The work of being present

For the last 3 weeks, I’ve focused on being fully present with someone I love.

A member of my family had an acute mental health event in mid-June. Out of the blue.

Since then, they’ve been living with me and my partner to make sure they get good rest, sleep, and food. Transportation for errands and appointments. Walks in the woods and books to read.

Most of all, they need deep acceptance and lots of listening. Which is always the important work when someone you love is struggling.

Being fully present with someone who’s afraid and in pain is the most valuable thing you can offer them.

Presence is a kind of temporary self-erasure so someone else can feel fully seen and accepted.

Because it makes it safe for them to say anything.

When someone senses that they don’t have to manage a reaction from you, they stop editing themselves. So they can say the ugly, angry, fearful, or absurd things.

Because you won’t run away, correct them, or change the subject.

When someone’s in pain, the instinct is often to fix, reassure, or explain. But those responses are aimed at minimizing discomfort—yours or theirs. When you’re present, you don’t ask for the pain to go away. You stay in the room with it.

Being present with someone in this way requires tolerating uncertainty. Not having an answer, but trusting that an answer or the next right step will eventually become apparent.

This is an asymmetric relationship

You're not there to be understood, agreed with, or comforted. The moment your own need to be helpful, right, or reassured leaks out, some of the safety evaporates.

To provide this kind of steadfast companionship, you need to be fully present and emotionally regulated. So I’m popping into your inbox to tell you how I’m managing to stay this present every day. Just in case you’re also having A Summer.

Here are the things I’m doing:

1. Attending to my physical needs. Eating well, especially when I’m not hungry. Going to bed and getting up at regular times. Walking in the woods every morning and doing yoga or lifting weights, even when I don’t want to.

2. Feeling my grief and sorrow. I use this emotional inquiry meditation, which I swear by. Feeling emotions is infinitely more comfortable than suppressing them.

3. Connecting with my partner. We hug often throughout the day and go to sleep touching each other.

4. Letting go of everything that isn’t urgent. If it’s not on fire, I don’t care.

5. Laughing. Mel Brooks and Monte Python movies have been a godsend for all of us.

6. Playing video games when my brain needs to turn off for an hour or two. Reading books that are shorter and simpler than my usual fare.

   
   

That's it. Nothing fancy. Just the things that help me be 100% there for someone else.