“I have fifteen minutes, and I’d love to spend them with you.” The voice on the other end of the phone belonged to a close friend who was in the midst of his own busy day, and yet was able to find a small window of time for us to connect. A small window was all I needed.
What I was searching for in those fifteen precious minutes was a safe space to say exactly what I wanted to say, unfiltered. I was in need of a place to be heard and seen, and to be able to feel exactly what I was feeling with no attempt made to fix, mollify, or find a silver lining. In that moment there was none to find.
For fifteen minutes he listened, and listened, and listened some more. Safely within the emotional equivalent of a soundproof, padded room, I was able to hear myself speak, and express deep emotions that needed to come out. Those fifteen minutes made it possible to handle the next fifteen. And the next and the next and the next.
We are all in need of safe spaces in which we can show up live and uncensored. Places where we can say what is true in that moment even when what is true is messy, ugly, and broken. It is from there that that we can find our way forward to deal with the mess, discover beauty in our ability to handle what we’ve been handed, and catch a glimpse of how we might put our broken selves back together again. Not put back together as before, but in new ways. Better ways. Stronger, more authentic, and courageous ways. Ways that begin with the gift of fifteen minutes with someone who’d love to spend them with us.
