Every teardrop is a waterfall.
― Coldplay
It’s almost a commonplace that it helps to talk things over with someone. From Time to Talk Day to ITV’s current Take Your Mate on Date campaign we’re encouraged to reach out when we need support and to be there for friends who need us. Fran and I are passionate advocates for mutually supportive friendships. We know first-hand the value of sharing openly and honestly with people we trust.
As important as the message is it overlooks one fact. It’s not always easy to be there for someone who’s going through difficult times, especially if it’s someone we know well and care about. It can be hard to listen without interrupting or offering suggestions and fixes. We may also find we’ve taken some of the other person’s stress, anxiety, or worry onto ourselves. These responses are understandable but in general they’re counter-productive. They get in the way of providing genuine help and support.
Fran and I were discussing this a few weeks ago. Fran mentioned that she worries she puts people off by oversharing, and this affects her response when other people want to talk to her about their issues. It’s true that oversharing can be problematic, as can being vulnerable with people unable or unwilling to accept the gift of trust it represents. On the other hand, the benefits of holding space for someone are often overlooked. For me, it’s invariably a positive experience. I almost always learn something about myself in the process.
I invited Fran to think of it as a valuable social service, rather than something to be wary of. “Being an empathy buddy or space holder,” I told her, inventing those terms on the fly, “isn’t about taking the other person’s problems onto yourself. What they’re sharing doesn’t have to fall on you or stick to you afterwards.” I thought for a moment about the term holding space. We use it a lot, but I’d never really considered what it means. “The idea,” I continued, “is to hold a space open for everything that’s being shared to flow into.”
I offered an analogy. “Imagine you’re standing beside a waterfall. If it’s a small waterfall with a small pool, you can stand close by. If it’s a big waterfall it will have a bigger pool and more spray and splashing. You would stand further back so you can appreciate it without getting wet.”
Depending what and how much is being shared, you can hold a smaller or larger space between you and the other person. Everything they are sharing flows into that space, like the pool below the waterfall. You both get to acknowledge it, observe it, then allow it to flow away. It was a small insight but we both recognised its importance. Before we finished our conversation I knew I’d blog about it, to develop the idea and share it in the hope others might find it helpful too.
Whatever their size, waterfalls demonstrate the transformational potential of movement. Waterfalls aren’t static features of the landscape. They are the result and embodiment of changes they’ve played a role in shaping and continue to shape. Likewise, our thoughts and emotions are part of the process, the flow, of what we’re living with and through. Sharing them is the equivalent of taking a friend by the hand to visit a secret waterfall we’ve found hidden away in the landscape of our life.
And if we’re changed in the process, this is no cause for regret or fear. In the words of poet and author Munia Khan, “Do not feel sad for your tears, as rocks never regret the waterfalls.”
Photo by Jared Erondu at Unsplash.
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