“The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain”—Khalil Gibran
Pain is often sharp and immediate, arising from a specific event or moment, whereas grief unfolds slowly and repeatedly, returning in waves as a person struggles to adjust to a lasting loss or learns to live with the scars. The sting one feels on the sudden death of a dear one, or the moment when one is betrayed by a friend, or the harsh words of a loved one, or when faced with public embarrassment, are some examples of pain.
Grief, being a deeper, lingering experience, is reflected in the silence at home after the death of a close family member, or the vacuum one feels at the end of a long friendship. It is also prominent in the frustration of losing a sense of purpose on retirement or being forced out of service. What remains is not just disappointment but grief for a lost identity.
Grief is often described as a lightning strike that finds the monument of the self and leaves it in shards. We frequently mistake the “stone”—our routines, our previous identities, and our perceived stability—for our true strength.
We believe that to be whole is to be unbroken. However, true resilience is the light that survives the collapse. It is the capacity for recovery and maintained adaptive behaviour following a period of incapacity.
In modern psychology, resilience and grief are no longer viewed as opposites where one must "defeat" the other. Instead, they are considered to be in dynamic oscillation. Resilience is not the absence of pain; it is the capacity to carry that pain while gradually rebuilding a meaningful life.
Contemporary research, specifically the Dual Process Model (DPM) developed by Margaret Stroebe and Henk Schut, suggests that healthy grieving is a non-linear journey of moving back and forth between two types of stressors.
Loss-oriented stressors involve confronting the pain—crying, looking at old photos, and yearning for, say, the person lost. Mourning is necessary, where the individual concentrates on the pain of the loss itself.
Restoration-oriented stressors focus on navigating the "new normal". This includes learning new roles (for example, managing finances or household chores previously handled by the deceased), managing daily life, and even finding moments of distraction or joy.
Resilience does not require “closure” or moving on from the deceased or a fateful event. Instead, it involves transforming the relationship from a physical presence into an internal bond through rituals, memories, and stories
Resilience is found in the rhythm of shifting between these modes. Stepping away from the pain to focus on a task is not avoidance; it is a necessary respite that allows the nervous system to recover so one can face the grief again later. This “dosage” of grieving is an integral part of adaptive coping. Resilience in the face of loss is characterised by behavioural flexibility—the ability to adapt one's behaviour to the demands of the moment.
Studies indicate that nearly half of bereaved individuals exhibit a stable pattern of “low distress”, continuing to function in their roles even while experiencing intense “pangs” of inner grief and yearning.
Grief can act as a catalyst for bringing about profound personal change. This transformation, known as Post-Traumatic Growth, often involves an increased appreciation for life, deeper relationships, a greater sense of personal strength, and new spiritual or existential perspectives. This implies that the struggle with trauma can result in positive changes that go beyond pre-trauma levels. One can intentionally build resilience through some practices that may be difficult but are not impossible to nurture.
One of them is questioning whether the painful thought is helpful in life or is actually causing harm. Thus, resilient grievers can shift focus from destructive rumination towards constructive steps for daily living. Accepting its benefits, they find solace in positive emotions such as engaging more with nature and sharing laughter. Research suggests that gratitude and “benefit finding” prove buffers against depression and are among the most potent ingredients in thriving after loss.
Resilience does not require “closure” or moving on from the deceased or a fateful event. Instead, it involves transforming the relationship from a physical presence into an internal bond through rituals, memories, and stories.
This internalised representation continues to serve adaptive ends. Rituals and creative practices are essential psychological tools for navigating the oscillation between mourning and rebuilding. Rituals, for example, holding moots, visiting the graveyard, lighting candles at event venues, etc., and creative practices like painting and music, provide dedicated spaces for pain and distress.
These activities rebuild normalcy in life. They allow for the expression of the inexpressible. Art bypasses the logical brain, externalising deep pain that words cannot capture. Entering a state of "flow" can lower cortisol levels and provide a meditative respite from distressing thoughts. The Japanese art of Kintsugi, repairing broken pottery with gold, symbolises that we are not just “broken”, but re-formed with new, visible, and improved strength. This mirrors the process of resilience, where the cracks of our loss are filled with the "gold" of our growth.
A healthy grief journey is not about reaching an endpoint where the pain vanishes. It is about a lifelong integration of loss into a larger, more complex identity. The image of a cracked stone coexisting with a radiant heart and a tree of new growth perfectly illustrates this: our shattered pieces and our flourishing new self are not mutually exclusive.
By embracing the Dual Process Model, we learn to respect the “dosage” of our pain while actively engaging in the work of restoration. Resilience, ultimately, is the courage to be an active participant in our own healing—to allow sorrow to carve its depth, so that we may, in time, contain a joy that is all the richer for the struggle it survived.