I was going to write about spontaneity today – in fact I'm half way through it already. But, I'm changing course because my kids are sick and I'm tired and I don't feel like getting enthusiastic about why letting go of some structure in life is a great thing. Which it is! So I'll probably write about that next week, but for now I'm going to actually be spontaneous, and write about something else...
When someone we love is sick, our natural instinct is to make them feel better. We make soup, offer to help with tasks, sit with them and so on. When it's our children, it's not just a powerful instinct but also a sense of responsibility - for the most part we are the ones who have to look after them.
But what about the instinct that kicks in when someone we love is not physically sick, but is feeling sad or worried or anxious or having problems in their relationship?
I think about this a lot when it comes to my children. Firstly, obviously, they're where the majority of my non-working time and energy is focused these days, so many of my thoughts play out around them. But also, their emotions are WILD. One minute they're hysterical with tears and the next with laughter. They are unpredictable and intense whirlwinds of feeling.
My son in particular, seems to have a strong emotional palate. He cries a lot and has done so since birth. He feels everything.
And in the moments when he is crying and he can't tell me why (and I know there's nothing physically wrong) I find myself thinking: I would do anything in the world right now just to make you feel better.
It's a normal thing to think as a parent, but, I know deep down that if I acted out that desire I'd actually be doing him a huge disservice. If I always tried to make him feel better I'd be robbing him of his capacity to learn to understand and manage his emotions. And I'd also be teaching him an unhelpful lesson: that feeling sad or frustrated or whatever other normal (but challenging) emotion he is experiencing is bad.
Of course the urge to take away pain, to distract them – let's go get ice cream! – is strong, but if we can hold back a little and give them support but also space and permission to experience whatever they're feeling, I think we're better equipping them for life.
And the same goes for adults. When a friend or loved one comes to us deeply in pain, it's rare that they're arriving with light stuff. They're facing grief, depression, anxiety, loneliness, infertility, relationship issues, serious illness... Heavy, complex situations and feelings that don't respond to quick fixes or platitudes.
But what do we do? We dive straight in with trying to fix them. We distract – shall we get drunk? – we share our own (often wildly incomparable) stories of pain, we give advice on topics we know little about, we churn out platitudes best left on fridge magnets in the bargain bin of a charity shop. (FYI, no shade towards the bargain bin of a charity shop, it's one of my happy places.)
By desperately trying to make someone feel better, we often inadvertently do the opposite. We can't take away grief or sadness from someone else's life anymore than we can from our own. And by responding in this way, we often unintentionally actually make the other person feel unheard or dismissed. We communicate to them that their emotional pain isn't acceptable or okay. We make it clear that we want them to not be feeling it anymore.
But difficult emotions are not bad. They're not fun, but they are a part of living a full and rich life. Grief is a reflection of love and loss. Sadness is is natural reaction to challenges in life. Even anxiety, burnout or loneliness are all telling us something. Our moralising of emotions – happiness = good / sadness = bad – isn't healthy or helpful.
So instead, what if the next time someone comes to us in pain, we try instead to listen fully to what they're saying? Try being completely present. Show them that we care and that we're there for them and that we love them. And in doing so, allow them the space to exist with and work out their feelings for themselves. Teach them that difficult emotions are not there to simply be pushed away.
Obviously, it's much easier for me to write this than to actually do it. More times than I can count I've tried to distract and advise my loved ones away from their pain. But I do try to remind myself that it's not my job to make other people feel better. (Heya, chronic people pleasers and empaths: you are not responsible for the wellbeing and happiness of everyone in your life!) It's my job just to be there.
So the next time someone you love is hurting – and FYI that person may be you! – consider simply being there for them. Show up with compassion and empathy and understanding and support. Forget what you think the situation requires. Instead just sit with them in their pain, and by doing so help them build a bigger container to hold, experience and come through it.
And then maybe also bring them an ice-cream.
Can you think of someone in your life who is struggling? What would it look like if you stopped trying to make them feel better, and instead focused on how they'd benefit from your comfort and support?
There is a spooky thing with your newsletters arriving into my inbox just when I most need them. Love each and every one. And dreaming of the day retreat already!
Ah thanks Lucy and good to hear! And me too, I'm so excited! :)