When the Storm Comes: What Bald Eagles Teach Us About Resilience
For the last couple of years, I have been watching, with interest, the story of two eagles, Jackie and Shadow, that reside in the Big Bear Valley area. Last year, one of the three eaglets didn’t make it. This year, Jackie laid two eggs which were later destroyed by other birds. Fortunately, Jackie laid two more eggs which ultimately hatched. The cameras have been capturing their moves for years.
What strikes me the most is how these eagles weather the storms. I’m talking about wind, rain and snow and what Jackie and Shadow do to protect their young. Seeing Jackie sit motionless in freezing rain and snow, her body soaked, her wings heavy, her head bowed into the storm becomes almost unbearable to watch. Every instinct in me wants to rescue her.
But here’s the truth: she doesn’t need rescuing.
She is not suffering.
She is shielding.
Jackie is doing exactly what she was designed to do. When the storm hits, she doesn’t run from it. She becomes the shelter.
And that changes everything.
Strength Isn’t What We Think It Is
We often define strength as avoiding hardship. As getting out. As finding a way around pain, conflict, or adversity.
But real strength?
It looks like staying.
It looks like holding your ground when life is pouring down on you.
It looks like choosing to endure—not because you’re stuck, but because something (or someone) matters more than your discomfort.
“True strength isn’t avoiding the storm; it’s becoming the shelter.”
Built for the Storm
Biologically, bald eagles are extraordinary. With up to 7,000 feathers layered in precise engineering, their outer feathers lock together and repel water with natural oils. Beneath that is dense insulation that traps heat so effectively that even snow piling on their backs doesn’t melt.
Why?
Because their warmth is being preserved—not wasted.
While the outside world freezes, beneath her wings she creates a perfectly regulated, life-sustaining environment for her chicks. A micro-climate of safety, warmth, and survival.
From the outside, it looks brutal.
From the inside, it’s protection.
The Human Parallel
How many times in life has it looked like you were “barely holding it together”
when in reality, you were holding everything together?
The woman navigating divorce while still showing up for her children
The person rebuilding after betrayal, quietly doing the work no one sees
The single mom who absorbs the storm so her kids can feel safe
The survivor who keeps going, even when every part of her wants to collapse
From the outside, it may look like struggle.
But underneath?
You are creating safety. Stability. Survival.
You are the shelter.
Resilience Is Often Invisible
The chicks beneath Jackie don’t feel the storm.
They feel warmth. Safety. Protection.
And that’s the part we don’t always recognize in ourselves.
Resilience isn’t always loud or triumphant.
Sometimes it’s quiet. Steady. Unseen.
It’s choosing not to pass the storm on to the people you love.
It’s absorbing impact so others can breathe easier.
It’s standing firm when everything in you wants to run.
A Different Way to See Yourself
If you’re in a season where life feels relentless—where the storm just won’t let up—consider this:
Maybe you’re not stuck.
Maybe you’re doing exactly what you’re meant to do right now.
Maybe, like that eagle, you are stronger than the storm… not because you escaped it, but because you became something greater within it.
Final Thought
The world may see you and think, “That looks hard.”
But the people who are safe because of you?
They feel something entirely different.
They feel warmth.
They feel protection.
They feel love.
And that kind of strength?
That’s survival.
That’s resilience.
That’s power.
Until next time,
Coach Deborah Griffiths
Website: www.brokentoboldness.com
Email: deborah@brokentoboldness.com