During the past few weeks, I’ve had a couple of opportunities to share what was real for me as I processed some loss and grief. In two of those moments, what I noticed was how unheard and abandoned I felt. My story became a launching point for others to share their own stories and the conversation derailed to focus on their memories, instead of the pain I was in. I wasn’t necessarily wanting these moments to be like, “Me-me-me,” but if I’m honest, I needed them to be about me for just a few minutes.
I’ve found this to be pretty common, though. In an attempt to relate, often we’ll jump in and share. I’ve done it a lot. You probably have, too. And, for me, instead of feeling seen, heard, and comforted in the midst of the pain I was in, I felt invisible, unheard, and worse than I did when the conversations started. In fact, as I walked through both of these experiences I found myself feeling very angry. The truth is, I just needed someone to sit with me, to tell me they understood how much it must hurt, and honestly, just to hug me.
As I worked through this process, I recognized how my personal experience connects to what we’re seeing more broadly right now. A whole lot of people are expressing their own stories of pain back and forth, and back and forth, and back and forth, at one another; my guess is that these individuals and groups of people are wanting to be seen, wanting to be heard and understood, and wanting to receive comfort in some measure. Sure, there are folks mixed up in there with motives that are extremely harmful, but if we’re willing to pull our attention away from the fringes and look in the middle, I think we’ll begin to notice the common threads of our humanity and need.
If it’s hard to hear our loved ones, to receive them in the midst of what they’re going through, imagine (and we probably don’t have to imagine too hard here) how we’re doing out “there” with those we don’t know so well. In an effort for our voices to be heard, our places of pain to receive comfort, we’re missing each other. And it’s devastating us.
Also during the past few weeks, I ended up on a call with a friend of mine who was able to hear me. She made space for me to share, she asked questions, she encouraged me in how she saw me moving through the grief, and she prayed with and for me. I left that experience feeling renewed, hopeful, loved, and motivated to move forward. What a difference the approach made.
But the truth is, my friend is equipped to meet others in that way. She’s practiced over many years. She’s grown in her ability to sit with others, hear them out, and respond with comfort, and in hope. One piece of recognition that helped me a lot as I considered all three experiences is that some folks were not equipped to hear me, while another was. When I accepted that truth, I felt a lot of compassion for those who couldn’t meet me in my pain. My anger dissipated and my expectations were, once again, better aligned with current reality.
It got me thinking about how I’m doing when it comes to showing up for those closest to me, and those along my path (in real life and real social media life). Am I postured to notice who is in pain? Am I able to hear what they’re actually saying? Do I want to? Am I willing to? How am I responding? Am I ignoring them? Am I sharing my own pain right back? Am I really listening and hearing them? Am I willing to bring comfort?
I don’t know about you, but I’ve been so tempted to point fingers this last year. I’ve been so tempted to align with one group or another group. I’ve been so tempted to ignore the pain of one group in order to advocate for the pain felt by another group. It has felt chaotic and confusing. And, I haven’t known what to do with it or how to best help.
In my life right now, I’m recognizing the challenging work of holding all of these realities in tandem. I’m recognizing how much it means to me when I’m seen, heard, and comforted. I’m recognizing how I can do that for others and I know that across the board, people are hurting right now. Like me, in the absence of being seen, heard, comforted, they’ve grown angry. That anger has escalated, taken to our online platforms, into our streets and cities, to our Capitol, and it has lodged itself in our hearts.
But what if you and I can show up, practicing as my friend has done for many years, and sit with, listen to, seek to understand, and bring comfort and hope this year? Without overpowering their pain with our own memories or stories, without taking on the offense by pointing fingers at other people or groups, without taking on resentment, judgment, and vengeance that grow out of unchecked anger, what if we held it all in tandem and really heard—everyone? What if in this grand reset we’re in, we became the most loving, helpful, understanding, comforting people? And what if, by choosing to look into the middle, we became the peaceMAKERS?
If you’d like to join me in practicing, it’s truly the reason I felt compelled to get my new book out so fast. You can preorder it and do the work alongside me—it will take you deep. (The complimentary workbook download you’ll automatically receive with your preorder exists for this purpose.) I’m here to better hear so that I can help create transformative solutions in 2021, my friends. What about you?