On Resistance and Resilience

About ten years ago, we adopted two kittens a few months apart.

They were exactly what you’d expect: lively, playful, and often nocturnal, with no regard for our sleep schedules or personal space. I vividly remember being jolted awake from a deep sleep by a mystery object sliding across our dresser, followed by the loudest crash I’d ever heard. The culprit? A mason jar filled with coins that shattered on our brick floor.

As I separated shards of glass from quarters and pennies, I couldn’t help but feel completely overwhelmed. What had we gotten ourselves into? Would these mischievous little creatures ever calm down? And what if we needed to hire a cat trainer?

At the time, I had no idea what was ahead. If I could go back and talk to my past self, I’d probably karate-chop my younger self in the trachea and say, “This is not overwhelming.”

But, at the time, it sure felt like it. The chaos of two playful kittens felt like a lot, but I just wasn’t as resilient back then.

Fast forward to a month ago, and we welcomed two more kittens into a house already full of activity: two kids, a dog, alpacas, cows, a farm, chores, a business, a side job, and ongoing caregiving. The new kittens are just as playful (perhaps even friskier) but I’m not overwhelmed by them at all.

Instead of feeling like I did back then, I’m mostly just delighted. Especially by Pearl, who has the most adorable floof between her toe beans. There’s something about gently tugging that floof that melts all my stress away.

In 2023, I went through one of the most demanding stretches of my life. Between parenting, caregiving, and running a business, I remember standing in the kitchen at 2 AM, unsure whether I’d even eaten dinner, knowing that in three hours, I’d need to be functional again. It was a year that forced me into survival mode.

What surprised me later was that my level of overwhelm wasn’t actually any higher than it had been in the past. Things were so clearly out of my control that resistance mostly faded away. Not because I was enlightened, but because I didn’t have the energy to argue with reality. I had no choice but to put one foot in front of the other and keep going.

That experience reshaped how I see resilience.

We often think of resilience as being about strength—about standing firm against pressure like a wall. But resilience actually comes from flexibility. It’s about being able to absorb the energy of stress, stretch, bend, and then return to form.

Resilience isn’t about not changing; it’s about being able to change without breaking.

Resistance isn’t just difficult, it burns energy. Acceptance, however imperfect, allows us to store energy for the moments that matter. Now, years later, I can feel that energy slowly rebounding.

I see a similar thing during family photo sessions.

Often, it appears when kids aren’t “cooperating” with what a parent expected to happen. The internal script tightens, and resistance starts to creep in. Once resistance takes hold, it’s easy for patience to snap, and the whole dynamic shifts.

But I’ve also seen the magic that happens when families practice resilience during a session.

What helps isn’t controlling the chaos, it’s softening into it. Warming up gradually, releasing expectations, and making space for the surprises that will inevitably arise. Letting the moments stretch without snapping.

When resistance drops, something else emerges: laughter, play, connection, and moments of tenderness that no one could have planned.

These days, when I feel the weight of overwhelm creeping in, I know it’s a sign that I’ve fallen back into thinking that things need to be a certain way for me to be okay.

More often than not, the relief comes when I remember that I can show up, do my best, and let the result be what it’s going to be. And what’s overwhelming me is often something precious that deserves my attention, not an obstacle to my happiness.

In the end, resilience isn’t about being tough or rigid. It’s about letting go of resistance and softening into the moment.

Here’s to a new year filled with moments of joy and plenty of floof.