Resilience Isn't Built on the Yoga Mat: How Small Everyday Moments Make You Stronger
It is not even noon, and I've already been in meetings for almost three hours straight. Meetings with wonderful colleagues, doing wonderful work, but my brain is barely treading water. I finally sit down to catch up on emails before lunch, only to discover there are twenty more than the last time I checked. The tide is rising. My shoulders retreat toward the high ground of my ears.
I'm just about to finally catch my breath when my phone rings. It's my daughter's school.
I have to come pick her up. Now. Lice.
And just like that, the date-night dinner I'd been counting on like a rescue raft disappears over the horizon, replaced by endless waves of combing and combing and combing. At this point, I’ll be lucky if I can even find 10 minutes for my meditation practice before bedtime finally submerges me.
You may fill in the blanks differently, but I'm pretty sure I'm not alone on Mondays like this.
Resilience Built One Moment at a Time
When life feels like it's about to sink us, we tend to reach for a kind of resilience that replenishes us in big moments: the morning meditation, hour at yoga class, the weekend to unwind, or the hard-earned vacation. Those experiences absolutely nourish our resilience. But they may not be where most of it is built.
Increasingly, resilience research suggests that our ability to stay grounded under pressure isn't shaped only by what we do during the times set aside for dedicated practice. Resilience grows in dozens of seemingly insignificant choices we make throughout an ordinary day. It’s a training that happens not outside the chaos, but right in the middle of the mess.
The breath before answering the email.
The pause before walking into the meeting.
The moment you sit quietly in your car before opening the front door after work.
These transitions are so ordinary that we barely notice them. Yet they may be some of the most powerful opportunities we have to strengthen resilience.
Power in the Spaces in Between
Neuroscientist Richard Davidson, founder of the Center for Healthy Minds at the University of Wisconsin–Madison, has spent decades studying mindfulness and resilience. One of the questions he hears most often is also one of the most familiar: How much mindfulness do I really need to do to make a difference in my day?
It's a reasonable question. We tend to assume resilience works the same way physical fitness does—put in more time, get more results. Researchers once expected the same thing. In the first ever randomized study of Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction in 2003, led by Davidson himself, his team predicted that participants who practiced more meditation outside of class would show greater improvements in well-being. But that's not what they found at all. The amount of formal meditation people reported doing had no relationship to the benefits they experienced.
It wasn’t how many minutes of practice people stacked up that made the difference, it was where those minutes happened. And through decades of subsequent research, Davidson and other researchers have found that some of the most critical windows for cultivating resilience come in the small spaces for practice woven throughout the day – what Davidson calls short times, many times. They're the tiny interruptions that keep us from living on autopilot—a conscious breath before speaking, noticing tension in your body before it spills into your words, or gently bringing your attention back after your mind has raced ahead.
The big moments matter. But so do the spaces in between.
Resilience is the Practice of Coming Back
At Kripalu, this idea sits at the heart of our RISE resilience program. RISE grew out of a simple observation: an hour of yoga after work or thirty minutes of meditation in the morning isn't always enough to carry us through an entire day. Most of us need our practice to meet us in the middle of a messy Monday afternoon.
One of the core capacities we cultivate in RISE is what we call Staying Centered—our ability to notice what's happening within us and regulate our thoughts, emotions, and behaviors so we can show up in the moments that matter in the way we want to be.
Notice what that idea doesn't promise. It doesn't say we'll never feel anxious, frustrated, or overwhelmed. Being resilient isn't about remaining calm all the time; it's about recognizing when we've been pulled off center and intentionally finding our way back.
That coming back certainly happens on the yoga mat and the meditation cushion. More often, though, it happens in ordinary moments all day long. You notice your shoulders tightening before replying to an email and decide to take three slow breaths. You pause outside the conference room before stepping into a difficult meeting. You let one long exhale mark the end of the workday before walking into your home. You silently acknowledge, I'm feeling defensive right now, creating just enough space to respond with intention instead of habit. None of these moments looks especially important. But each one is another chance to practice coming back.
Seeing the Day in a Different Way
Perhaps the greatest shift we can make in growing resilience isn't learning another breathing exercise or mindfulness technique. It's learning to see your day differently.
Most of us treat the spaces between activities as empty time. We reach for our phones while waiting for the elevator. We replay the last conversation while walking to the next one. We carry work through the front door before we've even taken off our shoes.
What if those transition moments aren't empty at all?
What if they're the places where resilience is quietly rehearsed?
Every moment between offers a choice. You can stay caught in the momentum of the last moment, or you can pause long enough to choose how you want to enter the next one.
That's what makes these small moments so powerful. Every conscious breath, every moment of awareness, every intentional return to center strengthens the same capacity we rely on when life becomes difficult. Like any skill, resilience grows through practice – not all at once but one ordinary moment at a time.
We often imagine resilience is revealed during life's biggest challenges. In many ways, though, it's built long before we need it—in the ordinary moments that rarely attract our attention but quietly shape how we meet everything that follows.
My meditation practice didn’t keep me afloat that Monday. If I’m being honest I didn’t meditate at all. But I did take a minute to just breathe before walking into the school. And we didn’t forget to talk about what we were grateful for at bedtime. That night, it was lice combs. Before I finally climbed into bed, I jotted down what I needed to remember from way back in those morning meetings, so I could finally just sleep.
I stopped wishing for a different day and showed up for the one I actually had.