Fragility and Resilience: The Hidden Balancing Act
How do we build a life that is strong enough to endure but soft enough to savor?
Life often feels like a tightrope walk between strength and fragility. We strive to grow resilient in the face of challenges, yet we fear becoming so hardened that we lose sight of joy, connection, and meaning. This delicate balancing act is what inspired me to write this piece. As a parent, a partner, and someone who has navigated the pressures of life, I’ve found that true resilience isn’t about avoiding fragility.
It’s about learning to live with it.
Lessons from the Past
When I was growing up, life wasn’t easy. Each day felt like a small battle to stay on track. I am an introvert and was a fairly anxious kid. Economically we were okay due to my father’s hard work but money was always scarce. By the time we reached high school, the pressure to find a vocation felt unrelenting. The anxiety of securing even a modest future hung over all of us constantly. In 1988, the numbers were stark: only about 6,000 places were available in the real engineering schools, while applicants numbered in the hundreds of thousands. A 2 to 3% acceptance rate. We lived on that razor-thin margin, unsure if effort would ever translate into opportunity.
Yet those years shaped us. They taught us adaptability and resilience. They instilled a strength that could weather setbacks and find paths forward. But they also left scars. Amid the hustle, we learned too little about joy, balance, and sharing our lives with others.
A New Perspective
Everything changed for me when I met my wife. I was 26; she was 22. From the start, she was the wiser one, though I didn’t see it then. I carried my youthful arrogance, “I know better,” for longer than I care to admit. But together, we began to build something greater than ourselves. As we raised our children, we also raised ourselves, reshaping our philosophies, principles, and perspectives.
Parenting brought clarity.
The fragility of life became more visible, and so did the need to balance that fragility with strength. We refused to let societal norms dictate how we raise our children or what they should aspire to become. It was tempting to lean into patterns: your daughter is creative but should really study medicine; your youngest has to try to go to an Ivy League school.
Our daughter, now 25, chose her own path and became an architect. She now works in design. Our 21-year-old son, gifted in math and storytelling, earned a degree in economics and political science, exploring a variety of liberal arts courses. He graduated in three years, believing college was unnecessary, and now seeks to spend some time figuring out his real talents and inspiration. Our youngest, at 19, is a freshman in engineering school, likely to be an entrepreneur or something else entirely. I still remember fondly when as a 5-year-old he’d say I want to be a stay-at-home dad.
Raising Resilient Children
We encouraged them to make choices and to understand the weight of their decisions and the possibilities that come with them. To embrace the liberal arts even if they dream of engineering. To cultivate gratitude and empathy. To stay optimistic, to put in the work, and to look after their health.
Most importantly, we reminded them that happiness isn’t tethered to external success.
We tell them: take your time. There’s no rush. The only thing we expect is that you find joy in life and know you can always come back to us. We will be here.
Fragility Is Not the Enemy
The world today is quick to label discomfort as danger.
Sometime back read a quote attributed to Greg Lukianoff: “If words offend you, call your parents and tell them you’re not ready for college.”
It struck me as harsh but true. Resilience comes not from shielding ourselves from every discomfort but from learning how to face it.
We have tried to give our children both roots and wings. A foundation of unconditional support but the freedom to find their way. Life doesn’t demand perfection. It demands presence, effort, and the willingness to grow.
We want to pay witness to the lives of those we love. Our partners, parents, children, siblings, friends, colleagues and even our business clients.
Why? Because we are human.
The Beauty of Fragility
As I reflect, I see the fragility in all of us - our children, ourselves - but I also see the beauty of that fragility. It’s not something to fear. It’s something to honor. From it, we build resilience, adaptability, and connection.
And so, we wait and watch. We are rooting for them to turn out full of joy, confidence, curiosity, and happiness.
As good human beings who people around them will want in their lives.
We're all doing our best ~ Assume Positive Intent!
Adi