Ancestors and the Quiet Strength of Resilience

October reminds me that resilience is not always about force or resistance. Sometimes resilience is the ability to bend, to let go, to trust the cycle of endings and beginnings.

When we walk the path around the pond during our October Forest Gathering, we will be walking with our ancestors. Their lives were probably not easy. And, each of us carries stories of endurance within us, too. Some ancestors persisted through scarcity. Some survived through war, illness, or displacement. Others carried the burden of hardship with a quiet determination that still flows in our blood.

Humboldt Park pond at dusk

Resilience is not only what they passed down but also what we can practice each day. Every step we take in silence is an acknowledgment of their strength and an exploration of our own. To become ancestors ourselves means to leave behind not just stories of survival but also stories of tenderness. Resilience can look like refusing to harden. It can mean choosing kindness in a world that often rewards hardness.

In nature, resilience shows itself in the fallen leaves that feed the soil, in the roots that dig deep, and in the pond’s ability to hold both stillness and storm. We, too, can hold both — our grief and our gratitude, our fatigue and our courage.

As we gather, we are reminded that resilience is not found in standing alone but in remembering that we are part of a lineage. The strength of those who came before us rises up to meet us with every step. When the fire is lit after our walk, its warmth will carry forward that reminder: we are not the first, and we will not be the last. Resilience flows through us like breath, like blood, like flame.

If you'd like to experience this for yourself, please join me for this special Forest Gathering on October 25th.