That is Enough
“When someone is going through a storm, your silent presence is more powerful than a million empty words.” Unknown
Standing in the autumn sun, bike leaning against my leg we are talking, the conversation messy, kind of clunky and raw. My friend wants to know how I am. We are at an event with people and noise all around yet there we are standing amongst it all, deep in. Truth is I am fragmented, scratch the surface and you will see the cracks.
He replies, “I don’t know what to say”, as he momentarily looks to the ground. A silence falls even as the event happenings belt out noise. Absolutely in the moment I cannot find the words and his pause offers me the time until I can, I respond, “it’s okay, I have not known how to talk this either.”
Love and care are in the silence, and it takes a grounded person to be with you rather than rush in to fix, filling pauses with meaningless words or quoting a platitude.
He was there. That is enough.
Being human, wrestling for understanding and meaning whilst being held by compassion is the safe place for me. Those very cracks received the light, shimmered in with only gentle companionship and kindness.
He listened. That is enough.
My professional life has me sitting with people in some of the most distressing states of their lives, desperate at times for answers. As a new graduate, I wanted fix, make them feel better, find a solution and to see it all work out okay. Experience has taught me sometimes life can be brutal and unforgiving, and it can break you.
At times, for a lifetime.
Being with people as they struggle and to offer heartfelt presence is by far the greatest therapeutic intervention on this earth, I believe. People deep in their search, rummaging, questioning, breaking open and through. I have stopped being the helper. Honestly, I cannot fix anything for anyone, instead, in my work and personal relationships, I have come to trust people have all they need.
To become the witness. That is enough.
Yes, I have skills facilitating inquiry, to shape a conversation, to reflect what I am hearing, to ask bold questions, and therapeutic training and interventions. Mostly these days there is an innate trust in the energy, the unspoken, and not from some spooky, witchy sense, although I do like the sound of that.
Often pausing within myself and waiting for what is truly being asked to be seen, trusting myself from that space. On the phone I close my eyes momentarily, in person, I stop talking and take a deep breath. At work, you will see me at times place my hand on my heart which was never taught at university but, has become a practice for me to tune in. What arrives is part of me and them, part of the room and it is asking to be said.
Most often, I simply honour the moment and the person.
The space, the breath, the response arrives in these quiet moments.
That is enough.
What once used to frighten me, not knowing has become a privilege. In fact, it is what my work centres around in students and new graduates as they begin their career, before any modalities or therapeutic intervention. Soothing fears and teaching to be with the client is by far the greatest offering in the work.
To slow down, to be. That is enough.
Later, sitting by myself on the steps of Gypsy, my van, tears fall because in the pause my friend gave, I felt seen: my sadness, how hard this had knocked me and having words all scrambled in my head. Wholeheartedly grateful he did not go onto chase away the silence or even his own discomfort, he paused and then spoke his truth.
That very moment I began to breathe a little deeper. No magic words. No solutions. Just presence.
And that is enough.