Are you the compassionate witness someone needs?
Helping others tell their story
Hello Readers!
I missed you last week! I just returned from a fall beach break where we (finally!) celebrated my son and his girlfriend’s graduation from college this past spring. I really appreciated the extra dose of sunshine as the clocks fell back and the nights grow longer. It was also a sweet salve to wake up on election day without the chaotic buzz of the US media in our face.
If you’ve been a reader here for a while, it comes as no surprise that the election results were not what I hoped for as a Christian, a woman, an educator, an anti-racist, and a mom to a queer kid. This week, I shared on Instagram that my friend Gillian and I met for our first post-election Tulle and Tea ritual. It’s the first Tulle and Tea we’ve shared in ten months--a plot twist in her family’s life left them in survival mode for the better part of this year, and sometimes a weepy cup of tea in yoga pants was the best we could manage. (Read about the evolution of our teatime here).
I wrote a bit on IG about why we needed this particular Tulle and Tea, and I also mentioned in passing that Gillian and I both make a living by helping other people tell their stories. More accurately, I make enough money to support my bagel habit and Gillian supports her family as the co-founder and CCO of a film production company. We are not the same, lol. But our work overlaps in that we both create space, offer creative feedback, and provide people with the tools they need to use their voice so that others can hear it— essentially, we help people say what needs saying.
As a writer, the propulsive urge to share my words and my story can lead to an unhealthy inwardness at times. Another challenge of storytelling is how often I find my hands tied when it comes to writing about the stories that are impacting my life the most off the page without exposing other people (however badly they behave) to public scrutiny. Enter one of the greatest gifts of being a writing instructor—when it’s not prudent to share my own stories, my classroom becomes a place for students to share theirs safely.
Over the past eight years, I’ve read true stories about loss, grief, abandonment, racism, addiction, queerness, living with a disability, mental health concerns, divorce, religious trauma, poverty, immigration, and so many stories about the unconditional love of pets when people fail us. You wouldn’t believe how many pets are out there saving young people’s lives. Every semester a few students tell me they’ve never written about an experience before—the one that shaped their lives the most—and many of them are better for having written it.
Sometimes the story opens a door that they wish had remained closed, and we spend the rest of the semester fighting together for the student to stay present and get the help they need from our school resources. This part frightens me sometimes, to be honest. On the first day of fall semester, one of my students required immediate psychiatric attention after responding to an innocuous prompt about summer vacation. Offering critique on a student’s writing craft can also get a bit sticky when they’ve written about a painful subject. It’s not always received well, unsurprisingly.
I hope the best for the students who aren’t ready to share their experiences yet, and I especially hope they find a safe place to share their story when they’re ready to tell it. For the students who are ready, they’ll find me waiting with weekly prompts to draw out whatever it is they’d like to share with the class.
Why does this matter to you, dear reader? It matters because we all have a story to tell, and we need someone safe to receive it. We can also be the safe space for someone to share their story. I confess, as a parent, I wasn’t always a safe space for my children to tell the truth. But I’m trying to make up for it now by offering to my students what I couldn’t always give my kids and what so many of them are missing with their own parents.
Years ago, on the night before Thanksgiving, after pushing food around on her plate and not eating a bite of it during our family dinner, our precious girl came out to us. She didn’t know how we would react, and I consider it a miracle that she trusted us with the truth anyway. We want to know and love every part of her, exactly as she is, and her story has a happy ending for our family. I know from my students that this is not always the case.
As we gather around tables for the holidays this month and next, consider how you might become a safe space for someone else’s story. I want to hear the joyful, silly, funny stories as much as anybody, but those are easy to share and receive. There is at least one person at your table who needs their hard story to be heard by a compassionate witness.
Could you be the compassionate one who simply says yes to listening without judgement?
I’m still a work in progress as a listener and receiver, and I’ve found it’s much more difficult if the individual who shares their hard story with you is someone who has harmed you in some way. In that case, they aren’t your safe space. Your spirit is not a burial plot for their pain. Boundaries are a good, good thing.
And if you’re the one who needs your hard story to be heard, I pray you find a compassionate listener who receives you just as you are today.
Reflective Practice:
I’ll leave you with a writing prompt I used in class that generated some beautiful work from my students.
· Write about a time you crossed paths with a stranger who impacted you in some way and the results of that interaction.
Is there someone you’d like to share this story with later?
Consider sharing it this holiday.
One last thing:
If you’re a writer and you’re not sure how to tell your story, I’m here to help!
My digital Writer’s Work Shoppe has downloadable resources you can use today:
1. 100 Creative Writing Prompts to help you get words on the page.
2. A Query Letter Template to pitch the story you’ve always wanted to tell.
3. A Nonfiction Book Proposal Template to help you refine and sell your big story.
AND my personal favorite—The Writer’s Rule of Life is a guide to help you build a sustainable, spirit-led creative life and achieve your writing goals.