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Pondering the perplexing decline of resilience with age and the looming spectre of The Recliner

Charmain Naidoo
By Charmain Naidoo
2 Oct 2024
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In my quest to find this quality that I have lost, I’m finding that it’s all about choosing ways to bounce back

I used to be resilient. What happened? I’m about to move into a new apartment and I’m a hot mess. Why?

I’ve moved house 28 times without a qualm; I’ve moved cities, nationally and internationally (Cape Town, Makhanda, Zastron, Durban, Gqeberha, London once, New York twice), without a sweat.

In fact, people widened their eyes when I used to say I loved moving – listed as one of life’s most stressful things, up there with divorce and the death of a loved one.

The excitement of redecorating. A chance to declutter. Taking in new views and angles of the city. Familiarising myself with the neighbourhood. Finding a new favourite coffee spot…

And so, I am perplexed by the levels of anxiety that plague my waking hours and have me in a looping first circle of Dante’s hell in the 3am witching hour.

I have become less resilient with age.

Bedtime ritual


So much has changed in the past decade or two. I marvel when looking back to the days when, at night, I climbed into my bed and went to sleep.

My bedtime ritual is more complex now: teeth guard, statins, eye mask, ear plugs, eye drops, nose drops, a loose blanket for easy on/off manoeuvres. And, of course, the soothing sound of alpha waves at a frequency meant to calm me into blissful sleep. It hasn’t worked so far, but I live in hope.

Ironically, I have been one of the loudest grumblers about the lack of resilience in this *snowflake generation, and about the parents who are raising them.

My mutterings include how incapable they are of handling tough things that happen in everyday life, and I lay the blame squarely at the door of their parents.

Why, I have voiced, would they learn to fight their own battles when their parents are there to take on everyone who dares to challenge or offend their little darlings?

When, as a teenager, I was (justifiably) reprimanded by a teacher for some transgression, my parents backed the teacher and happily complied with my punishment.

Threats of lawsuits


These days the offending child’s rights are at the forefront of teacher-parent discussions. (I mean at high-fee-paying schools for the privileged.) Tales of threats of lawsuits and of blackballing institutions meant to be responsible for their children’s learning abound. I have been wondering how these fragile young people are going to negotiate the herculean task of growing old.

How will they develop the resilience needed to face the hard times that lie ahead?

One has to define resilience: is it standing up to hardship or misadventure, or is it the ability to bounce back from it?

I like to think it’s the latter – that riding the storm until you reach calmer waters is the goal, with that silver lining in constant view. Those clichés seem to sum it up, but granted, it’s much easier said than done.

I have noticed that conversations with my friends have changed. Hot men, fashion, work and bosses, accomplishments and books now include a new range of topics.

The Recliner


A dear friend and I recently spent a good 45 minutes discussing The Recliner. I was telling her how I’d popped into a shop to buy a new ironing board and happened to pass a series of chairs – padded, with puffy armrests and arched just where the spine needs to be supported… Recliners.

There was the massaging Power recliner, the Durham recliner, the Nordic, the Ron Fabric, the Abby chair (which looks like a very fat baby spilling over with rolls).

I made the fatal error of climbing into one and luxuriating in the utter sensual comfort.

No! my friend admonished. We are too young for The Recliner. She admitted that she’d slipped into something called the Milano Riser – which ejects you from it by tilting upwards and letting you slip out. Good to know, she said, for when we’re really old and we need a bit of help to get out of furniture.

Our conversation turned to handrails in the bathroom, and when we would need to install them. We meandered on to our biggest current fear, coming down stairs. The prospect of falling is much on our mind, as a friend of ours is recovering after tripping over her own feet and breaking a femur.

Doing balance exercises is key and brushing your teeth standing on one leg is recommended. We allow ourselves just five minutes of talking about our ailments and so I quickly got in how annoying it is to walk in a loping limp that is, we agreed, so ageing. I have excruciatingly painful heel spurs. 

When I asked my doctor what caused them, he shrugged. Age.

But it’s not just moaning joints and ligaments and diminishing eyesight that require resilience, but also hearing! S and I suspected a friend of having early onset dementia because she was so removed from her surrounds. At first we thought it Zen. Turns out her hearing has deteriorated to such an extent that she simply zones out when in a crowd. She says it’s exhausting trying to keep track of conversations around her, so she opts out. It’s just easier.

This move to my new apartment has been difficult because I’m not as strong as I was during my last move. I tried to take a heavy gilded mirror off the wall, and couldn’t.

A component of self-confidence


Self-reliance is a component of self-confidence. Having to ask for help produces a special kind of mortification and needs a large dose of humility.

And so I have begun to ponder ways of increasing resilience to embrace what is and what is to be.

I have found that it helps to have lovely friends you can giggle with as you guide each other down a flight of stairs.

As it helps to have a jolly good doctor, homeopath and acupuncturist. Mine tell me I’m in rude health and refuse to let me think I’m old. Meditation keeps things in perspective and exercise just makes you happy.

Being of service makes you feel virtuous. Doing good is rarely about those you’re helping as much as it is about making you feel good about yourself. 

Who cares. Both do good.

But mostly, rewrite your story and shift the things you say about yourself. As my therapist used to say: you are not your thoughts.

Resilience, I am finding, is about choosing ways to bounce back. So what if I can’t lift a heavy mirror off the wall? My neighbour can, and happily will. In turn, I help him write a résumé.

Just get on with it, I can hear my mother’s voice in my head. Okay, Mama, I will! DM

Charmain Naidoo is a journalist and media strategist.

* Snowflake is a reference to those who are easily offended. It is not a reference to the derogatory right-wing term for liberals.

This story first appeared in our weekly Daily Maverick 168 newspaper, which is available countrywide for R35.

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