I was at a meeting and an acquaintance came in. I knew she had been going through some hard times lately, and my first reaction was, "Oh, this is going to be awkward. I don't want to talk to her." As I talked to her, I felt uncomfortable for not knowing what to say or how to approach the elephant in the room. Selfishly, I didn't want to go out on a limb for her, and didn't know quite how. As we all left, I overheard another woman saying to the acquaintance, "I'm sorry things have been hard for you lately. It's good to see you. I'm glad you're here."
I was so impressed by the simplicity of her statement and the tone of concern she said it with, I vowed to remember and try to emulate her genuine compassion and willingness to broach the "elephant zone."
When you don't know the right thing to say, it's easy to say nothing and it's easy to spew advice. I'm not sure if either of those are the right approach because they don't convey concern. One conveys apathy and the other, selfishness. I took Tziporah to a neighborhood wedding shower shortly after she was born. It was wonderful to be there and talk to my friends. I appreciate all the life experience of the older women and the way they reach out in friendship. One dear woman, in chatting with me about the new baby, said, "You look tired." She said it with such an air of compassion and understanding, it was as if the words came with a hug. I felt like she had acknowledged me. Of course I'm tired! I'm supposed to be tired with a newborn, and all I needed was someone to relate to that without giving me advice about resting. I almost cried, I was so grateful for her kind gesture of sisterhood.
We're not always going to say the right thing, and everything we say won't always be taken the right way. But we can say something. Vulnerability creates connections between people, and if we never reach outside our comfort zone, we can never make the kinds of friendships that last and matter. Now, if I can just learn to "say something" without saying the wrong thing or interjecting my own opinion or giving unsolicited advice, I'll feel more comfortable reaching out like my kind friends know how to do. Life is such a learning process!
I was so impressed by the simplicity of her statement and the tone of concern she said it with, I vowed to remember and try to emulate her genuine compassion and willingness to broach the "elephant zone."
When you don't know the right thing to say, it's easy to say nothing and it's easy to spew advice. I'm not sure if either of those are the right approach because they don't convey concern. One conveys apathy and the other, selfishness. I took Tziporah to a neighborhood wedding shower shortly after she was born. It was wonderful to be there and talk to my friends. I appreciate all the life experience of the older women and the way they reach out in friendship. One dear woman, in chatting with me about the new baby, said, "You look tired." She said it with such an air of compassion and understanding, it was as if the words came with a hug. I felt like she had acknowledged me. Of course I'm tired! I'm supposed to be tired with a newborn, and all I needed was someone to relate to that without giving me advice about resting. I almost cried, I was so grateful for her kind gesture of sisterhood.
We're not always going to say the right thing, and everything we say won't always be taken the right way. But we can say something. Vulnerability creates connections between people, and if we never reach outside our comfort zone, we can never make the kinds of friendships that last and matter. Now, if I can just learn to "say something" without saying the wrong thing or interjecting my own opinion or giving unsolicited advice, I'll feel more comfortable reaching out like my kind friends know how to do. Life is such a learning process!
5 comments:
What a beautiful comment that friend offered. I'm going to remember that.
Very wise post. I'm sorry, I was one who talked about rest. Just now I checked a post after Tziporah was born and sure enough -- I selfishly gave you unsolicited advice in my comment. {{cringe}} And to add insult in injury, I never followed up with a meal! For shame! I will sneak one in. :)
The week after my brother died we had dinner with Jeff's family. They were warm, but no one acknowledged that darn elephant. My sister-in-law asked cheerfully, "So how was James' birthday party?" and I wanted to shout, "It was the day after my brother died, don't you know?" Much later in the visit another sister-in-law arrived, came up to me and simply said how sorry she was about my brother. I melted in tears, and she said she was sorry to make me cry. No, I told her, I was going to be sad no matter what, and I was so grateful that she said what she did.
Your words remind me that acknowledging someone's problems -- not ignoring, not fixing them, not advising -- is a caring approach.
That was a very compassionate comment and I loved the wisdom in this post. Good to remember.
I agree! It is so hard to know what to say sometimes. Some people have a gift to know what to say. I will just try to follow their example.
That was perfect! I'm going to try and remember that too...
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