Holding Space

This is Paisley. She lived a long life for a Bernese Mountain Dog, 12 years, but she has been gone for a while now. You've heard the expression "I want to be the person my dog believes me to be?" This was Paisley's gift to me on a daily basis. No matter what mood I brought in the door with me after a long work day, she was there with her unconditioned dog love. I knew I was perfect . . . to Paisley.

I am thinking about Paisley and this gift that she gave me, as I reflect on a conversation I had with a friend. This wise woman (I hope she recognizes herself if she reads this) was talking about learning to just "hold space" for others, and let them do their own exploring, even when it would have been easier to give advice, to try and fix things. Our attempts to console, to mediate, to offer solutions are almost always well-intentioned, but I think they are seldom effective. This has been a hard lesson for me, being in a helping sort of profession, for it almost negates the value I have been trained to offer.

In the case of my friend, her holding space is particularly heroic, because she is doing this for her children. I have no children, but I can imagine how hard it must be to watch those we love suffer, and how desperately we one must want to fix things for a child. To trust the wisdom of her girls, rather than impose her own must be a very brave thing to do. I feel how lucky they must be, to have a mother who can stand back, like Paisley did for me, and offer that unconditioned support.

It was the core lesson I learned, if I really learned it, while being a coach: trust the wisdom in the other, and keep your own mouth closed! Imposed solutions, no matter how wise, seldom stick. It becomes even harder to practice this non interference when we observe suffering in the other, when we watch them floundering. Maybe such times are when they most need the person who just "holds space," who believes for them and believes in them when they find it impossible to see a light, or believe themselves?

This sort of holding space is really a spiritual practice. I cannot claim that I am good at it (as sweet Paisley was), but I strive to practice deep seeing in my conversations, for if I can see the innate perfection of another, I help them to embody it, to believe in it themselves. It really is enough: I am here to believe in you, believe FOR you, when you do not have the strength to do so yourself. Maybe that is the greatest gift we can give another being, that gift of seeing them, not in terms of their history or their biography, but in terms of their essence.

As I begin a new week, I hope that my eyes will light up and my "tail will wag" at each new encounter. I see you. You are enough. This moment. Yes, keep that tail wagging.