Prompt 181. Darling, I Am Here For You
& Elizabeth Lesser on the Gift of Presence
Hi friend,
My bags are packed and I’m being admitted to the hospital today, to begin the bone marrow transplant process.
The past week was busy: a flurry of appointments and preparations and more roller coasters. On Wednesday, my brother went in for his bone marrow donation, and I accompanied him. Since he’s done this before, we knew what to expect, which was several hours in a hospital bed hooked up to two IV lines, his arms straight at his side. Unsurprisingly, he was cracking jokes, saying he was being harvested of his life force. Later when I asked him how he felt, he dropped his head to the side and said weakly, “Everything is fa-a-a-ding.” Just a little gallows humor on a Wednesday morning!
Lately I’ve been thinking so much about community. I keep seeing concentric circles rippling out from me—my parents and brother and Jon, my medical team, my friends, this beloved community. I also see each person surrounded by their own concentric circles, all overlapping with mine. While we were in the donation unit, Adam indulged in some chocolate a fellow teacher had given him, and after we got home, he pulled two giant paper banners from his backpack. They were from his fourth graders: one for him, scrawled with sweet farewell messages for his medical leave, one with encouraging notes for me. It was so moving to see him being held by these children, and to feel them holding me, even though they’ve never met me. It was buoying: lifting us up from the depths to the surface.
So often we talk about resilience as stemming from the individual, not the collective—and of course, there are individual roots to resilience. According to the author Andrew Zolli, the most resilient people are the ones who believe in their own agency and who work to uncover meaning in the highs and lows of life. But an equally crucial component in resilience is having a strong community. And the two most important factors Zolli identified in cultivating a strong community is that you build your community before you need it, and that you do so with an initial act of generosity.
Today’s prompt is about that exact kind of generosity—about showing up for the people we love in our very human and messy ways, trying and failing and trying again. It’s from my beloved friend Elizabeth Lesser, the bestselling author and co-founder of the Omega Institute, who in her generosity and her dedication to building community is a model of Zolli’s method. I couldn’t be more honored to share her words with you.
Sending love,
Suleika
P.S. This community showed up for me brilliantly with book recommendations—then a dear community member named Sue Levin showed up for you. She sat down with a cup of coffee (a woman after my own heart: she takes it with half-and-half and a little heavy cream too) and compiled all the recommendations into a spreadsheet, which can be sorted by title or author. If you’re interested in perusing it, you can find it here!
P.P.S. Carmen will be hosting our next meeting of the Hatch, our virtual writing hour for paid subscribers. She’ll send out a Zoom link the day before—subscribe to join!
The Isolation Journals is my newsletter for people seeking to transform life's interruptions into creative grist. Both free and paid subscriptions are available. The best way to support my work is with a paid subscription, where you get added benefits like access to my advice column Dear Susu, an archive of interviews with amazing artists, behind-the-scenes tidbits from me, our virtual writing hour the Hatch, and other opportunities for creative community.
Prompt 181. Darling, I Am Here For You by Elizabeth Lesser
People need people. That’s one thing I have learned during the pandemic. But people also drive each other crazy (another thing I’ve learned). We need each other, but so often we don’t know the basics of just being with each other. That’s never more obvious than when someone we love is suffering—whether they have a serious illness, or a headache, or a heartache. When I was my sister Maggie’s bone marrow donor, the easy part was having my stem cells harvested (a lovely word they use to describe a not-so-lovely procedure.) The harder part was knowing how to help Maggie during some of the most extreme suffering I’d ever witnessed. We’ve all been there—trying to support the ones we love when they are hurting. And we have all been the ones hurting. And still we flounder in our helping.
I had a front row seat in the theater of how-not-to-help when I was Maggie’s caretaker after the transplant. When well-meaning friends expounded on the healing power of juice fasts, or the amazing clinic in Germany where so-and-so’s cousin was cured, or how negative thinking might have caused the cancer, I’d watch Maggie’s face twist into a look of weary—and sometimes wrathful—disbelief. Some people were over-helpers, filling the awkward spaces with too much advice, too much talking. I’ve done that; maybe you have too. And some friends, in their confusion or fear, didn’t help enough. I’ve done that too—not making contact because I didn’t want to say the wrong thing or intrude on someone’s privacy. But avoiding the one who is hurting also goes into the how-not-to-help category.
So how to help our beloveds in their illnesses, their struggles—or merely in these troubled times? My favorite advice comes from Thich Nhat Hanh, the Vietnamese Zen monk, poet, and peace activist who died in January. All over the world, thousands of people would gather to listen to Thich Nhat Hanh, perhaps expecting complicated theories that would unlock the secrets of life. But it was his very being that was the teaching. He was the most peaceful person I have ever been around. In an interview Oprah asked him the best way to help another person. In his lilting accent he said, “The most precious gift you can give to the one you love is your true presence. So my mantra is very simple: Darling, I am here for you.”
It turns out that while health articles, a meal chain, and even your bone marrow will go a long way in helping, it is the marrow of our very selves—our unadorned presence—that we crave from each other. When I think back to those dark winter days after Maggie came home from the hospital, what I know she appreciated the most were the hours we spent stretched out on the long window seat in her kitchen—she on one side, me on the other, our feet touching, and the silence, the deep healing silence. And me repeating just under my breath, Darling, I am here for you.
Your prompt for the week:
Write about the gift of presence. About a time when someone was there for you. Or when you were able to be there for someone. Or when you wanted to but just didn’t know how, or you tried and it was not well-received, or it flopped, or backfired.
How did it change you? What did you learn?
If you’d like, you can post your response in the comments below, in our Facebook group, or on Instagram by tagging @theisolationjournals.
Today’s Contributor
Elizabeth Lesser is the author of several bestselling books, including Cassandra Speaks: When Women are the Storytellers, the Human Story Changes; Broken Open: How Difficult Times Can Help Us Grow and Marrow: Love, Loss & What Matters Most. She is the cofounder of Omega Institute, recognized internationally for its workshops and conferences in wellness, spirituality, creativity, and social change. She is one of Oprah Winfrey’s Super Soul 100, a collection of a hundred leaders who are using their voices and talent to elevate humanity.
What to expect in the weeks to come…
I’m going to keep up with things as much as my health allows, so you’ll continue to receive the free newsletter with prompts every week, though it’s possible that at some point, a few of my nearest and dearest may be writing in my stead.
As for paid subscribers, we have a really special installment of Dear Susu coming soon. We’ve also have scheduled our next meeting of the Hatch—it’ll be Sunday, February 20 from 1-2 pm, with Carmen hosting.
The Hatch is our virtual coffee shop, where we gather for an extra dose of community, accountability, and a productivity boost too. Subscribe to join us!
Dear Suleika, You have no idea how much I needed to see “Darling, I am Here For You” when I woke up at 4:30am after fitful sleep, full of worry and fear about how I will help and comfort my 8-year-old darling daughter, who will be having a bone marrow transplant in March. Thank you.
My wife suffered from a rare auto immune disease for 14-1/2 years, including 6+ years in a care center. During those years, I went to visit her nearly every day. Some days we did "stuff" and some days, we just sat there and enjoyed each other's presence.
She passed about 17 months ago, but I would do it all over again....every. single. day. That's what "in sickness and health" and other parts of the marriage vows mean.