Bearing Witness

Responding with Presence and Heart

No matter how well we live, some days just stink. The dog dies, the prognosis is grim, the feared words are finally spoken. The clouds are thick and show no sign of parting. Or maybe we just wake up with our inner juices tending toward hopelessness and fear, and no amount of positive self-talk can lift us out of our gloom.

Often our tendency in these times is to defend ourselves against the truth of what is. We pretend we’re not sad or angry. Or perhaps we sink into blame. We may lash out or even numb ourselves from the sheer ache of our existence.

The sages among us teach us that there is another way. They teach us to look life's difficulties right in the eye – to lean into the sharp points, as the Buddhists say - and to meet them with a faithful and loving heart. They teach us the difficult and necessary skill of being willing to stick by the side of life, even when the road grows unbearably bumpy. Even when there is nothing we can do, they teach us, we can always stay present and hold one another close, as together we weather the inevitable pains and sorrows of our lives.

Bearing witness means acknowledging the truth of what is, no matter how much we like or dislike it. It means being present for both the joys and the sorrows of our lives, and it means being willing to stand shoulder to shoulder with those around us as we live through our ups and downs together. It reminds us how deeply our lives are entwined and it reminds us that we are not alone. It means never walking away from ourselves and never giving up on others.

Zen teacher John Tarrant tells a story about visiting his mother in the hospital when she was nearing the end of her life. As soon as he walked into the room, he said, he felt unbearable pain from all directions. Family members were busy plumping pillows and filling water glasses and consulting nurses and watering plants. Initially, Tarrant busied himself with things to do, he said, but found that painful, too.

So finally, he sat down next to his mother. He took her hand in his, he sat close, he whispered in her ear. He gave up trying to fix anything, opting instead to simply be present with her. Although he still felt sad, he said, the deep angst he had previously felt dissolved. He felt close to this mother and he felt love fill the space between them. And he even sensed that his mother was softening, too, and maybe breathing just a little bit easier.

I think of this story every time I’m at a loss for what to do. When we can fix things, we do. But when we can't make everything all better, we can still be present, hold the space, and lean in close together in the true light of love.

We may even be able to offer such steadfast comfort to ourselves, when our hearts are filled with ache. We give up – for a time at least – our urge to fight our way out of sorrow. Instead, we sit with what is. We sigh, we cry, we may even swear or shout. We allow ourselves to feel whatever we need to feel, with the sure knowledge that we will see the light of day again.

The beauty of bearing witness is that it works regardless of what the world has to offer. We can bear witness to tremendous joy. That’s why we attend one another’s weddings and christenings and birthday parties and retirement celebrations. And we can bear witness to one another's sorrows. We do both of these things out of abiding love and out of recognition of our deep bonds and shared lives.

We could give bearing witness a try, both when times are easy and times are rough. What would this look like exactly? Perhaps you find yourself with a few unscripted moments with a loved one, and instead of doing or saying anything you choose to offer your loving presence. Or perhaps a friend will knock on your door with a bucket full or sorrows, and instead of offering them a ten-point plan for how to fix life, you sigh, soften, and offer your empathy and understanding.

Or maybe you will find yourself in need of a supportive shoulder.  Maybe you will be your own best friend and whisper to yourself, “Relax, sweetheart, it’s going to be okay. You are in pain now, but you are going to manage, one way or another.” And if that feels like just too much, you might seek out your most empathetic and supportive friend, the one who will offer up those words on your behalf. The friend who will bear witness to your life – just as you surely have done for them – and stay by your side, aching with you and also holding you close. And, of course, always offering you love.

For true love, in the end, is steadfast and loyal, and so very strong. It is the friend who refuses to give up on us, no matter how rough things get. Love wants us to be happy and free. But when we aren’t, love sticks around nonetheless, holding us close until we are able to turn toward the light once again.