Resilient. Leader.

The person who has reached a stage where they have something independent of outer conditions, something that is independent of failure or success, cold or heat, comfort or discomfort, starvation or plenty, such a person has a second body.

~ Maurice Nicoll

How would you describe what it means to be resilient?

One of my clients is navigating her way through a corporate culture of soullessness. Does that word resonate? It’s a value-system of productivity at the expense of humanity. She knows how to play that game; she just doesn’t want to anymore. Less skilled colleagues get promoted, those who can posture and pander but lack empathy, lack an essential heart for the welfare of others. And this within a massive company that wears a defining garb of philanthropy. How does one foster resiliency in this kind of environment?

Classic definitions revolve around the ability to bounce back from hardship… and that’s certainly true. Hardship comes to us all, and the way we respond to obstacles shows how resilient we are. The author above, however, describes it a bit differently: He describes a kind of distance entirely from the machinations of the external world—an inner stability and perseverance that is practically indifferent to the storms of life and circumstance. It’s like you’re tuning in to another bandwidth, an alternate reality that is buffered from the vacillations of the visible spectrum.

Too Pollyanna? Too woo-woo? I don’t think so.

While I don’t live in this space comprehensively, I have my seasons of orienting my compass to this different meridian. A truer north. And when I do, it makes all the difference in the world. Do you know this space?

Without this leadership charism, we simply ping-pong back and forth between the loudest stimuli, ever reactive, ever over-stimulated by the surrounding noise. This is a poor posture from which to lead. And those who look to us for guidance feel the secondary trauma of such instability.

It turns out that a key evidence for the quality of resilience is inner stability in the face of outer drama. Not just the ability to bounce back, important as that is; no, it’s more. It’s an internal gyroscope that keeps us oriented toward purpose and identity despite external turbulence.

No wonder the Benedictine monks chose “stability” as one of their three core vows: We will anchor ourselves in a place of geographic and relational commitment. Indeed! As business and organizational leaders, we too need to find our internal anchor, our unwavering inner vision that helps us stay the course when the waters get choppy.

Stability. Second body. Resilience. No matter what you call it, this is the fundamental attribute I cultivate in my clients. I hope you find your way there too.

 
Jerome Daley