“When we honestly ask which persons in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving much advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a gentle and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our moments of powerlessness…makes it clear that whatever happens in the external world, being present to each other is what really matters.”

– Henri J.M. Neuwen

RESURRECTION ROAD

As someone who is hired to help fix problems in the workplace and geared to assist loved ones to cure various ills, the above quote was a revelation. Not that fixing and curing isn’t helpful, but being fully present for another human being who is under dark skies and in dire straits is perhaps the greatest gift of all. In fact, being fully present for another is a prerequisite for effectively fixing and curing. It may even be the most challenging part of the process – turning off all the noise between our ears and truly being there for someone, becoming a 100% listener and an open vessel by which the person in need can pour their concerns into with trust.

Recently, I had an experience of such loving support. One night, after three weeks of travel, I hit the wall of exhaustion. Earlier that day, my computer was usurped my malware that paralyzed the operating system; the hard drive had to be wiped clean to remove the invader, and then reloaded. Several programs were missing, including an entire contact directory, and my external backup was thousands of miles away at my office. I received a Skype message from a young lady and we proceeded to video chat. Initially I planned to cut the call short as I could barely muster the energy to lift my head. I shared with her the exhaustion I felt, and the difficulties with the computer. It looked as though her face and the screen were separated by a hair as she listened so intently, even smiling heartily. She said virtually nothing for long periods but maintained her attentiveness. No fixing, no curing, just the warmth of her presence restored energy to my voice, rejuvenation to my body, resurrection to my spirit.