On holding space for yourself

Sometimes support looks like listening and holding, not troubleshooting and fixing.

Practice required to do it for myself.

You've probably heard of holding space, a way of supporting someone by listening and relating, without fixing. The "not fixing" part can be especially hard—we want to help ease the burden. Not to mention that our brains are happy solution-making machines. But often the best way to help is to listen and hold the moments of struggle.

That's how I generally understand it anyway. Heather Plett has a whole book about it, The Art of Holding Space, where she writes that holding space is, "what we do when we walk alongside a person or group on a journey through liminal space. We do this without making them feel inadequate, without trying to fix them, and without trying to impact the outcome. We open our hearts, offer unconditional support, and let go of judgment and control."

I could practice my whole life and still be learning it.

I like Plett's visual of a bowl for holding space, like a loving container for the person and their pain. When I first learned about holding space, I was all bowl holder—rarely in the bowl myself.

Maybe you can relate.

Some of us have fallen into a caretaker role, for any of a thousand reasons. Or we're naturally a good listener, also for just as many reasons. Sometimes it's just plain easier to listen than to formulate your own thoughts and feelings into words.

Then there are some of us who don't have people in our lives to hold space for us when we're struggling. Maybe our loved ones don't know how, or we don't have anyone who feels close. We might think of ourselves as independent, outsider types who don't need it. Maybe on some level that we're not even aware of, we don't feel safe enough to deeply trust anyone. I'm curious about that last one in particular.

Lately I've been thinking I could use some time in the bowl though. It feels a little weird to say that—it's not a familiar feeling, to want to be held like that. So I'm attempting to hold the bowl for myself, which seems like a good starting point. It hasn't been easy trying to be gentle and holding my own being when things get unsettled. Instead, I'm more familiar with habitually turning to my personal go-to distraction of food, with Netflix as a runner-up. Neither method ever fixes anything, especially as they slide into becoming insatiable which is an even bigger problem. I don't need more problems.

This whole being-in-a-bowl thing has me wondering: what's in the bowl with me? Am I hanging out in a bowl of salad veggies or am I trying to hold space for myself in a bowl filled with buffalo chicken dip (which imagining seems pretty gross)? And for that matter, are leftover thoughts from some random Netflix show swimming around with me too?

It sure would be easier to hold space for myself if I weren't swimming in trash.

So I'm practicing holding myself in a non-trashy bowl and being gentle with myself when it periodically does become trashy.

P.S. I think I'm missing a key point about holding space while I’m judging bowl content.