I had a revelation recently while puking my guts out on a fishing boat in the middle of the ocean (what can I say the job sounded like one grand adventure). My revelation is as follows: sometimes someone being present with you amidst your suffering makes all the difference, no words required.
I had taken a job on a fishing boat, unsure if I would get seasick (I had never experienced motion sickness). Well it turns out that I got severely seasick and couldn’t keep anything down for weeks. I was completely miserable, questioning how I was going to make it through working on this boat everyday until we returned to port. There was one profound moment when I had finished up in the factory, stumbled my way to the gear room, and vomited my guts out in a trash can. One of the guys saw me barfing and grabbed the medic. She came while I was sitting hunched over, my head hanging down, trying to suppress the nausea and trying to get the foul taste out of my mouth. She saw my expression and didn’t say a word but rather sat next to me in the heavy silence of the steamy hot gear room. It made all the difference just knowing that I wasn’t alone. Someone was recognizing and holding space for my suffering.
It made me think of other instances of being comforted by presence alone. I think of my childhood cat, who would often curl up on my chest when I was in distress. I think of the way my dad would accompany me for all of my shots and blood draws when I had a phobia of needles growing up. I think of group exercise, where knowing others are in it with me, keeps me motivated to continue through the discomfort. Can you think of examples in your life? This exercise provides valuable insight into how to show up for others and how they can best show up for you.