Last week I spoke at a resiliency conference at Children's.

I love the topic of resiliency. What makes people able to face a crisis and turn it around for something good? What is that wiring in our brain and how do we emulate everyday?

I tell my colleagues at work that our issues are not arms and legs and that no one will bleed out.....our marketing campaigns will be okay in the face of a challenge. They will live to see another day.

But Friday's conference was given for the hospital caregivers. What do I say to a group of caregivers who do face challenges where it could be arms and legs??? Where someone really could bleed out? How do I tell them to be resilient without sounding trite?

As usual, my talk was from the hip....nothing prepared. I was going rouge.

I opened with my Chicken Soup for the Soul story; the one about grieving and recovery. This story kills me. It was written and submitted before we lost Samantha. I received word on its acceptance a week after she died. It has taken seven years for me to like this story again.

I read this and think, "oh you poor Mama, to talk of grief with your Sweet Babu by your side. You ain't seen nothing yet."

I read this story to my audience with that caveat and that seven years later it is finally relatable. The very cruel thing about grief is that it takes time. It just takes time.

Our talk went onto my Google search for traits of resilient people. Based on The Google, resilient people are almost perfect:

- They are mindful and self aware
- They do not covet what other have
- They look at their hardships as a lesson in life
- They are always learning

 and they take good care of themselves.

I find this a load of hooey. My favorite resilient people are lippy and raw. They speak to their pain with truth and honesty around a glass of wine and deep fried cheesy poofs.

mmmmm cheesy poofs.

And I told this to my group.

Shootin' from the hip.

Sometimes all we can do to be resilient is to remember to brush our teeth and put on underwear.

I told this to the audience and they laughed.

I appreciated this for two reasons (1) Because I went to give my talk right after a comedian which I feel is amazingly unfair and (2) because if you a laughing with me, you are relating.

Stories of resiliency can be hard and difficult to relate to....they inspire us but at the same time make the audience think, "thank god that wasn't me."

According to The Google, unless we have experienced incredible loss, turned that loss it into joy and are now making hemp underwear to help orphans and practice mindful mediation three hours a day, we are not resilient.

Resilient people are so because they wake up everyday choosing to be.

It was fun to speak to this group. I left the day with bath salts, lavender hand cream and my underwear.

Resilient.

And happy eclipse! When I look up tomorrow at the sun (with my protective eyewear) I will take a moment and appreciate how very vast this life can be.