Hold Presence for Others
You and I, whether we acknowledge or dismiss it, change people with our energy. And I am not talking exclusively here about your inner circle of family and friends, but rather the shoulders you rub every day as well as those on rare occasions.
I learned about the magnitude of energy years ago…well before I understood or even recognized what it was…when our daughters were born 10 weeks prematurely. There is outstanding research supporting premature siblings thriving, in otherwise desperate circumstances, when they are able to sleep side-by-side in the same isolate. Sounds easy enough to apply, but in hospitals where the primary objective is to prevent disease, this often doesn't happen for fear of germs spreading. We fought to have our girls together in an incubator…and the hospital granted us our wish…for 1 hour each day. Once they were out of their isolates, however, they were allowed to share a bed around the clock…much to our delight! Simple fact was, they did better when they were close to each other. And they still do.
As much as I LOVE my story, the one I am about to share will take your breath away. It did mine.
Marion Woodman was in India when she became sick with dysentery and captive in her hotel room for weeks. Finally, desperate to escape the room, she gingerly made her way to the hotel foyer one afternoon to sit and write a letter to her husband. Sitting near the end of a long, empty couch, she began to write.
Although there were other seats available, a very large brown woman came and squeezed between Marion and the end of the couch, so close that their arms were touching, so close it made it difficult for Marion to write.
Marion scooted away, angry at the invasion of her space. The woman scooted closer, pushing up against her. "Every time I moved, she moved, until we ended up at the other end of the couch."
Once she stopped moving away, Marion realized what a nice, big warm arm the woman had. And so they sat, a thin bird of a sickly white woman and a big brown woman, arm to arm. They shared no common language, so they sat in silence. Marion gave into the broad warm arm, the presence of the other, and relaxed into her.
The next day she went again to the hotel foyer to write. And again, the woman came and silently sat next to her, touching her. And the third day. And the fourth day, and Marion's health improved.
This couch dance continued for a week. One day a man appeared as the two women finished their silent, warm vigil.
"You're all right now. My wife won't come back tomorrow," he said to Marion, nodding toward her couch compatriot. Your wife? she thought to herself, startled. "Why is she here in the first place?" she asked.
Marion was unprepared for his quiet, simple answer. "I saw you dying and sent her here to sit with you. I knew the warmth of her body would bring you back to life," he said.*
Whether you are Marion or the stranger with warm arms, if we extend ourselves, remain open to the experiences life brings us, and are willing to be arm to arm in each others' presence…it just might make ALL the difference! As for me, I know it does…
*Story shared by Patti Digh in Life is a Verb.
