Real-life resilience - Robert Redford

As a film student, I spent most of my university years consuming older films that had shifted culture into a new era. One of those shifts seemed to emerge from a period of style, attitude and substance that ushered in a whole new kind of cool.

For me, that was watching Robert Redford and Paul Newman in Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid and The Sting. Each film was a reminder that risk, charm, and a bit of daring could be intertwined to provide a stylish kind of edge. Redford’s smile, his cool under pressure, his capacity to play both outlaw and thoughtful man. It was more than movie-magic - it was a signal that the envelope could be pushed, and that we didn’t have to follow someone else’s map of who a hero needed to be.

What I didn’t know, of course, was that behind the iconic roles that Redford played, was a life shaped by much deeper challenges. Redford, who passed away recently at age 89, had known profound loss. He suffered a fate worse than most - outliving a child. Two times over.

He had four children in total, but both of his sons died before he did. His first boy, Scott, died of SIDS at just two and a half months old in 1959. Robert was 22 years old and I can’t imagine the profound impact that would have had on his perspective. His second son, James, died in 2020 of cancer and Redford acknowledged that the grief was immeasurable as a result.

On top of that, he also lost his mother when he was just 18 years old. Another heart-breaking moment which would have shaped his outlook on life forever.

Redford may not have resolved every grief, but throughout his long career and his life, he found ways to create meaning, to build something beyond himself, to re-shape loss into purpose. He built a lasting legacy as a conservationist and cultural visionary, founding the Sundance Institute and Film Festival, and co-founding the Redford Center and the James Redford Institute for Transplant Awareness.

His ability to reframe loss, to harness pain into creativity, and to lean into purpose - all of that is core to resilience. We can’t (and shouldn’t) deny grief, but we can integrate it somehow. The neuroscience of grief and resilience tells us that when we lose someone, our brains don’t simply “bounce back” automatically. The neural circuits related to attachment, emotional regulation, and meaning-making are activated. Brain areas like the our ancient amygdala become extra alert, so the logical brain has more work to do in regulating emotion, reframing thoughts, and holding memory and meaning.

Meaning-making is especially powerful at that moment. Research shows that when people find or create some meaning from loss, the psychological outcomes are often much better. Depression and anxiety tend to be lower and growth after trauma becomes more possible.

Redford’s path provides examples of this. He built festivals, started foundations, chose roles that reflected complexity, and gave a voice to environmentalism and independent film. He refused to let tragedy define him entirely by channeling the loss towards deeper empathy and a stronger vision.

So how can we bring this into our own world?

In the modern workforce, loss is different from death but still exists in the form of loss of job roles, teams shifting, personal identity shaken, and declining mental health.

Here are some tools that align with Redford’s example. These aren’t fixes, but they’re practices to find ways through the fog.

1. Anchoring to a purpose. What legacy do we wish to leave? This is a question that can have profound impact on the path forward through any challenge. At moments of loss or transition (project fails, people leaving, personal challenges), we can pause and ask ourselves what matters most now? This helps us anchor our identity beyond whatever was lost so that we can reframe emotional pain into directed energy. Directed energy is the way forward. At work, it can show up in leaders who create rituals or conversations that align with purpose, reminding the team why projects matter, or creating the vision that everyone can buy into.

2. Creative processing. Turn the challenge into something creative. Share stories, write, put the loss into words or art, even if the output is ugly. However it looks, just building something to express our feelings can help integrate the loss in the brain. Studies show that getting the story in our mind out somehow can help reduce intrusive thoughts and rumination.

3. Rewrite the narrative. We can always revise our internal story. That means shifting from “this is an awful loss” to “Because of this, I care more about ____”. It’s not neglecting the grief, but choosing a pathway that offers acceptance and gratitude instead. Ways to do this include journaling, sharing your thoughts with peers, even storytelling in certain situations. We can share the setback, and also what we’ve learned.

4. Rewire with small practices. Neuroplasticity is our brain’s ability to rewire itself and, lucky for us, it never really stops. Yes, adversity can change us, but with practice, we have the capacity to rewire our brains. We can do this through mindfulness, gratitude, positive emotion cultivation, physical exercise, rest. All of these help regulate the stress response, strengthen connections between emotion centers and control centers. At work, we can do this with brief mindfulness or breathing practices, or creating time for nature or breaks. It’s powerful when we can develop any small habit that acknowledges small joys amid difficulty.

Robert Redford’s life was one of brilliance in so many aspects, but it also included tragedy and struggle. And a life like that proves that we’re never really on a smooth ride. That pain, loss, heartbreak….they’re all moments that teach us more about living.

There is no life without pain, but we can use pain as fuel by finding meaning and connecting loss to purpose. That choice, that reframing, is where resilience lives.

Until next time friends, stay resilient.

Carre @ Resilient Minds