Song - I’ll Stay
She could feel it the moment he started talking.
The tightening in her chest.
The forward lean.
The quiet urgency.
He was hurting — badly — and every part of her wanted to do something. Offer a perspective. Suggest a practice. Reframe the story. Ease the pain.
Her mind raced ahead, already constructing solutions.
But something stopped her.
Not wisdom.
Fatigue.
She noticed how hard her body was working — not to listen, but to end his suffering. And she realised something uncomfortable: the fixing wasn’t only for him.
It was also to relieve her discomfort at witnessing pain.
She softened her shoulders and leaned back.
Instead of searching for an answer, she stayed with the sound of his voice. The pauses. The places where he swallowed words. The tremor under his certainty.
She said nothing.
Minutes passed.
His breathing slowed.
The story unwound on its own. Not neatly, not completely — but enough.
Later, he looked up and said, almost surprised,
“Thanks for not trying to fix it.”
She felt a warmth then — not triumph, not relief.
Respect.
For his process.
For her own restraint.
She saw that suffering didn’t always need repair.
Sometimes it needed room.
INVESTIGATION — “What Is the Fixing Really For?”
This investigation isn’t about stopping help.
It’s about seeing what’s driving the impulse.
1. Notice the body when someone suffers
When someone you care about is in pain, notice:
tightening
urgency
planning
leaning forward
impatience for resolution
Ask:
Who is uncomfortable right now?
Be honest.
2. Separate care from control
Care is responsiveness.
Control wants an outcome.
Ask:
Am I offering support, or trying to end this feeling — theirs or mine?
3. Look for the hidden belief
Often fixing is driven by:
“They shouldn’t feel this way.”
“I know how this should go.”
“If I don’t help, I’ve failed.”
Ask:
Is that true?
Let the question hang.
4. Experiment with presence
Try this instead of fixing:
reflect what you hear
allow silence
stay embodied
resist filling gaps
Notice:
What happens when nothing is pushed?
Often, regulation spreads naturally.
5. The deeper recognition
You can’t take someone’s suffering away.
But you can stop adding to it.
Presence says:
“You’re allowed to be where you are.”
That permission is often the beginning of change.