Tibay ng Loób: On Trying, Failing, Learning and Resilience

How might befriending failure and strengthening tibay ng loób help us move towards greater flow and flourishing?

Aug 26, 2023

There’s a question people normally ask, when they want someone to dream big and meet their full potential: What would you do, if you knew you could not fail?

I’ve been thinking about this recently, and it feels like the more powerful question for me to ask is: What would you do, even if you knew you could fail?

Granted, no one wants to walk into situations where their odds of success aren’t great. At the same time, success doesn’t feel as successful if we were sure we would get a positive outcome. Triumph tastes sweeter when there are no guarantees.

In such instances, tibay ng loób, the Tagalog term for resilience, inner strength or fortitude play a huge role.

To break down my understanding of tibay ng loób, I go to some definitions of loób in Sikolohiyang Pilipino from scholars Rogelia Pe-Pua and Dionisio Miranda, where loób is defined as an “inner self,” “inner being,” “what is inside the self,” “holistic self,” “core of oneself,” and such.1

Another perspective is the definition of loób as a person’s will, more specifically, a “holistic and relational will”.2 Jeremiah Reyes takes time to distinguish this loób or will from the Kantian autonomy and will. Reyes asserts that loób is by no means “autonomous” and independent as is the case with his definition of “will”.
As for the word tibay, it can be translated to strength, endurance and stability.
Given this, we can conceive of tibay ng loób as strength of will — and one’s will to remain steadfast and recover — qualities of resilience and fortitude in the face of adversity and failure. And as Reyes asserts about loób being holistic and relational will, I also believe that tibay ng loób is something we also derive from different inner and outer resources, and not as an inherent quality.

We have resources for resilience not only through some internal resolve, but also from the support we receive from others, and the meaning that we make of our whole journey — including our failures.3

Side note: I also find it interesting to think about how true stability can only be found when we integrate flexibility in design. This had also come up in a team coaching session I had run recently where one participant talked about wanting stability and flexibility in the same sentence. We can liken this to what we can see in nature’s design, like bamboo that bends with the wind so it doesn’t break. We also see this in human design, like Japan skyscrapers’ capacity to withstand earthquakes by dancing as the ground moves beneath them.4 It’s a cool thing to think about — that designing for stability (as in the capacity to remain steadfast and enduring) is designing with flexibility (as in the capacity to adapt to new, different, or changing needs). Perhaps a reflection for another post.

At this point of this article or post, I’ll be posing a series of questions, and also answering them myself. My invitation is for you to also use these as reflection prompts to think about your relationship with trying, failing and learning. :)

Can you think of a time when you tried something and failed?

For me, I think of my coaching journey thus far. While conceptually, some of the things I’ve learned are not altogether new (given my background in psychology and facilitation), the new practices around coaching have been a big stretch for me.

Listening (as in really listening), reflecting back and asking questions as a coach are surprisingly harder than we might imagine, because the way we do those things in our everyday lives is not usually very mindful and intentional. Because of my defaults (and not being taught how to really listen in school), I failed to hit several markers in a number of coaching conversations, which I needed to earn my latest advanced coaching certification.

I tried to use each recorded failure as an opportunity to learn something that I could practice better the next time. I was very impatient with myself with taking so much more time and struggling a lot more than I had anticipated. Encouraging words from peers helped. Eventually, I managed to record the necessary coaching conversations, and, with great relief, finished my advanced coaching course.

What about the times where you didn’t get to the destination (the desired goal or outcome), but also had a hard time along the way (the journey)?

I suppose this has been my relationship with grad school. When I first applied for a Chevening scholarship for Masters in the UK in 2016, I didn’t even make the first cut. It could have felt like a catastrophic failure (because the process is ~9 months long, and you pin a lot of hopes and plans around getting it, even when you want to manage your expectations).

I used that failure to learn, and continue to build myself up to become a better applicant on the next cycle. I managed to secure the scholarship for my Masters in Sustainable Development at the University of Surrey on my second scholarship attempt, one year later.

More recently, nearly five years since my Masters, I acted on a growing itch for further studies — on well-being, positive psychology and coaching; I tried for another scholarship in another country. I didn’t make the first cut for this one either, and I’m not feeling as hopeful about my chanced if I try again. This was one of the most rigorous applications I’d had to complete, but I thought I had submitted a solid application nonetheless.

I’m not sure what else I could have done better that wouldn’t betray what is authentic for me to pursue. And so I sit here with this “failure” and this uncertain, open road ahead. Unlike my Chevening scholarship application, I talked about applying for this one quite a bit more with colleagues and friends. It felt like I had more anticipation around it, so I was also a bit more disappointed that I didn’t get it.

But each attempt, each application for things like these always serve as ways for me to get to know myself better, or get reacquainted with my present self.

What did you learn from this experience? What did / do you root in to help you stay standing?

I learned that as long as I’m clear with my intentions and the needs I’m trying to fulfill, whether for myself or for others, I will find different ways or strategies to still meet those needs. It helps that I have a foundation or root system that allows me to treat life as a learning experience, and to see learning beyond the confines of a classroom.

Connecting with myself and what’s really important to me helps me to not be so immediately deterred or discouraged by the setback — it just means that maybe, I’ll try again, or I’ll find different roots. Connecting with others at this time also helps me to make meaning of the lost opportunity, and find new windows and ways forward.

I move forward because of my desire for learning, creation and contribution. I want to learn, not just as a pedantic exercise, but to also distill what I learn so it can also serve others.

What options are open to you now?

Recent reflections in a coaching conversation (where I was being coached, instead of the other way around) revealed to me that while I kept looking to learn more (or in a way move energy from the outside-in), what I began to realize was that what I might need more is to move energy from the inside-out. Rather than consume, I’m recognizing a stronger need to create. And to share.

I’m still on the lookout for more learning opportunities (as Love of Learning is really one of my character strengths). At the same time, resilience has given me a different way of looking at a situation I do not have the power to change5. I can’t change the results of my scholarship application, but I can change how I see it and respond. I can choose to open myself up to other means of learning, even learning by sharing.

I’m exploring different learning and creating opportunities right now, and I realize I still have a lot of open windows, depending on the direction I want to take. Will share more about that when plans firm up. :)

How we think about failure, both actual and anticipated “failure”, determines how we might respond to it and grow.

What would you do, even if you knew you could fail?

I’ve been working on creative personal projects in the background, which I won’t detail right here, right now, suffice it to say that I’ve put off some of these things for a while now, due to to my fear of the vulnerability of showing the fruits of a “creative” process, and my worry over how it may or may not be valued by others. However, if I think about other creative endeavors that gave me joy, they gave me joy when I was concerned less about what others might think, and when I was more concerned with the consequence to myself if I was not able to do it.

I don’t want to always be wondering, possibly regretting. I want to do more things just because they could be fun and fulfilling, according to to my own personal yardstick and not anyone else’s. The process of unraveling has already begun, slowly, and I’m being patient with myself, while also making sure I’m no longer stalling because of fear, but because of really wanting myself to emerge as I will.

Now it’s your turn to reflect:

Can you think of a time when you tried something and failed?
What about the times where you didn’t just have a hard time along the way (the journey), but you also didn’t get to the destination (the desired goal or outcome)?
What did you learn from this experience? What did / do you root in to help you stay standing?
What options are open to you now?
What would you do, even if you knew you could fail?

Fun things: I don’t think I’ve mentioned here on Substack, but mid this year, I signed up to become the chapter lead for Culture First Manila. Culture First is a global community of people geeks dedicated to co-creating a better world of work. Earlier this month, we hosted a Resilience in the Workplace workshop, and it was evident in our discussions on personal and organizational resilience that recognizing, naming and mindfully expressing our emotions at work can be helpful for both the individual and the organization. As such, we’re also hosting an Emotions at Work workshop on September 20, 7-8:30PM (PHT), which I will be co-facilitating. Join Culture First Manila for free to get notified about upcoming events! :)

References on loob include:

Pe-Pua, Rogelia and Elizabeth Protacio-Marcelino. (2000) Sikolohiyang Pilipino (Filipino Psychology): A Legacy of Virgilio G. Enriquez. Asian Journal of Social Psychology 3, no. 3: 49-71.
Pe-Pua, Rogelia (2016) Unpacking the Concept of Loob (Inner): Towards developing culture-inclusive theories. Japanese Psychological Research 58, no. 1.
Miranda, Dionisio (1989) Loob: The Filipino Within. Manila: Divine Word Publications.

Reyes, Jeremiah (2015) Loob and Kapwa: Thomas Aquinas and a Filipino Virtue Ethics. Ke Lueven Doctoral School of Humanities and Social Sciences, pp. 1-317.

One of my favorite videos around this is the Ted Talk What I learned from 100 days of Rejection by Jia Jiang.

Henriquez, M. (2019) How Japan's skyscrapers are built to survive earthquakes. BBC. [article]

I know this can be a contentious thing especially when it comes to conversations on how Filipino resilience has been glorified.