It’s toward the end of the work day (though I’ve got a couple more hours of facilitating in front of me), and I’m feeling tired. I’m tired because I’ve been using my brain so much today. I’m tired because my sleep, while generally good, was a wee bit interrupted last night (it was the first night that I was hot). And I’m tired from holding space.

I’m not complaining, just observing. The act of being present with another while they process the challenges that life is throwing at them is an intense one. It’s intense enough that a friend of mine who is a therapist started a thing she calls Cry Camp. Do with that what you will.

Truly, I’m grateful for the opportunity to hold space for another—in this case, a dear friend. It brings us closer together, and allows me to play a small role of support.

And it’s a lot.

It’s all true.

I just wanted to put this down to acknowledge it, to name it as real, and to normalize—just a tiny bit—the intensity that this very human and very necessary offering can have.

So, if you are a holder—at whatever level, to whatever degree—I see you.

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And that’s okay Sometimes all we have is the words we pull out of ourselves at the end of the day