Just Be There

As a professional coach who genuinely wants to promote positive emotions, it’s easy to

forget that some days just stink. Maybe your spouse ignores you, your kids treat you like a combination of a cash dispenser and personal janitor, or your boss dismisses your best efforts.

I could easily patronize you with advice about gratitude, managing expectations, and gaining perspective. But wouldn’t it be better to simply acknowledge your frustration and join you in your feelings?

One of the most valuable lessons I’ve learned comes from attending funerals. I’ve heard many well-intentioned but misguided people approach grieving families with phrases beginning with, “You should…” "You should be thankful." "You should think about where they are now." "You should eat." "You should rest." "You should take time off." Thank you, kind sir or madame, for knowing exactly what I should or shouldn’t be doing.

We have this strange human tendency to give unsolicited advice or try to minimize undesirable situations in the hopes of "helping." I often fall into this trap myself, constantly reframing negative situations and shifting towards more positive thoughts. Yet there are times—more often than we recognize—when we simply need to sit beside a friend and cry with them, or scream, or quietly support them as they process their emotions. Allowing someone to process raw emotions without comment or judgement is a gift. Holding a trembling hand for a heartbroken mother. Listening quietly as a friend sobs over a job loss. Hugging the man who feels unloved and unlovable.

I remember being in Baptist Hospital in Winston-Salem, NC after having surgery for a brain tumor. My wife stood beside me as an unfamiliar doctor casually strolled in and told us that what we had thought was a benign tumor was actually cancerous. In an instant, my emotions spiraled to a place I had never experienced before. I quietly asked the doctor and my wife to leave the room. As soon as they walked out, I screamed. Something inside me broke. Overwhelmed with anger and fear, I didn’t know how to process those intense emotions.

I don’t remember any of the time directly after that outburst. Much of the time surrounding the surgery and treatments is foggy. But when I received that diagnosis, I didn’t need well-intentioned advice or platitudes; I needed sympathy and empathy—whatever “athy” was available.

In the Book of Ecclesiastes, Solomon proclaims that there is a season for everything. A season for living and one for dying. One for planting and one for harvesting. There is a time and place for encouragement, positivity, and wise advice. However, there are many seasons when we, as husbands and wives, sons and daughters, friends, family, co-workers, and neighbors, can best serve each other by simply being available when times are tough. Just being present and acknowledging one another may be all that’s needed. Yet, it can be incredibly challenging to hold our tongues until that storm passes.

What a blessing it is to have someone humble enough to say, ““I’ll sit quietly here with you until you tell me otherwise."

I know I could use more people like that in my life.

How about you?