Giving Comfort Takes More Than Good Intentions
Try These Ways to Ease the Pain of Those You Care About
Along with joy, suffering is one of the surest bets in our lives.
No matter who we are, it is one of the most essential of human experiences, with loss, death, betrayal, regret, illness, failure, and isolation as their companions.
But sorrow means we’re alive. It makes things matter in a different way. Everything is not alright. To deny it brings its own troubles.
Often the pain we feel is the dividend we pay for loving, being involved, active, and bursting with the connection. Other times, we find that “shit” indeed just “happens,” without warning or instructions.
It’s hard to know how to reach out to people in pain. We might wish to carry the part, or all of their suffering, even though we know we can’t.
Just because we want to help doesn’t mean we are automatically helpful.
There are things we can do, as well as things we shouldn’t do, to more effectively reach out to people we care about.
Understand who you are as a helper in this particular situation:
- What are your strengths? Are you a do-er or a listener?
- In what areas are you comfortable? For example, are you effective with people who have had setbacks, but overwhelmed by long term illness?
- How well do you know this person? Do you understand what they’re facing?
Honor the uniqueness of what they’re going through.
- Suffering is universal, but even strikingly similar situations are not the same. Each person in pain has a unique story— there are no divorce templates, or child abuse prototypes.
- What is the story of their journey?
My greatest teachers have been my patients. Each of their stories and struggles is different and I’d be in trouble if I assumed I had their M.O. at the beginning of a difficult journey, just because it sounded familiar.
One fearful six-year-old girl was terrified of getting a vaccination, to the point that she had meltdowns for three straight weeks.
My automatic reaction was that this was a low-level problem, easy to solve. Everyone in her life communicated the insignificance of her struggle. In fact, this child might as well have been stalked by a bear, for the amount of anxiety she had.
“It’s no big deal.” “It probably won’t even hurt.” “Be a big girl.” “It will take 2 seconds.” are the kind of responses she got.
I had to meet her at the level of her terror and not diminish it, as I’d been doing. I told her that I’d been thinking a lot about her, and I decided that this was very serious business and she had to tame her worried feelings.
We needed to do something very serious. So, we collaborated on a “battle strategy.”
She returned the next week and slowly removed her sweater to reveal the sorriest looking old Band-Aid and held her arm with silent pride.
“Well, I was right to be scared,” she announced. “It was very “serious.” But I decided to be brave. With wide eyes, she asked, “Do you know what happens when you get brave? You get this!” We spent the whole hour on the moment-by-moment narrative about her 2-minute battle.
She had her story. And that story would influence her empathy for other kids in similar situations. She would tell it repeatedly as a way of mastering something that paralyzed her.
Helping the Helper
Frequently, there is a partner or family primarily involved in the challenges of suffering. Many times, the most help we can give the person is to assist their caretakers. “How about I take the kids to soccer?” “Take a break and go to the movies with me.” “I’m going to order dinners for next week.”
A person alone will often benefit by a quick pick up of their house, or meals, or a drive in the country, help organizing payment of bills. “What would you like me do today? may get more of a response than “Do you want me to do anything today?”
Bite Your Tongue
- The Big Lie. “I Know Exactly How You Feel”
Just drop this from your vocabulary right now. Whether it’s getting a reaction to your Covid booster shot, a relationship breakup or an episode of depression, I believe that you might think you know. But you don’t. And to try to communicate the fact that you do, is an unintentional, but real cruelty.
- It diminishes the suffering of the person you are trying to comfort. Part of the power of suffering is the loneliness of it.
- Yes, maybe you’ve got the broad-brush strokes — it hurts, it lasts too long, it is scary. But you don’t know the fine points.
- If we deprive someone of the respect for the power of his individual pain, we may be saying “I want to help you, but on my terms.”
2. “You think you’ve got it bad?” therapy
- Many people try to comfort others by imagining even worse scenarios than they’re already in. “Well just imagine how much worse it would have been if he left you when the kids were little.” “Well, you’re lucky it’s not a double mastectomy.”
- An offshoot of this adds a little guilt in case you’re feeling sorry for yourself:
- You- “I'm feeling really down today.
- Your mother- “Oh, did I tell you that Mrs. Jones was just diagnosed with Alzheimer's?”
- You “I'm really in pain.”
- Your friend — “Did I ever tell you about when I broke both legs?”
3. “Helpful” advice
- When we are hurting for someone and want them to feel the comfort of our connection, we often make the major mistake of offering our “wisdom.” It comes from kindness and caring, but it morphs into something else. When I had a very painful miscarriage, people said:
- “It’s not your fault.” (I never thought it was).
- “Get back up on the horse right away.”
- “Give it some time before you try again.”
- “It's too bad you didn't take those supplements I gave you.”
- “That’s why you shouldn’t tell people till after the first trimester.”
- “It's probably just as well.”
Silence really is golden
- Silence is underrated. Sometimes there isn’t anything to do or to say. Sometimes we just need to BE with a person who is suffering.
- It also communicates:
I see you.
I see your pain.
I am not afraid of it.
It has touched me.
I will be there for you in whatever way you need.
Shorten the Road
There was a king with 3 sons who couldn’t decide which one should inherit his kingdom. He was tired and had a long walk home. He said to the first son, “Shorten the road for me.” The son didn’t know how. The king turned to the second son and said, “Son, shorten the road for me.” Again, nothing. He asked the third son, “Shorten the road for me.” The son started walking and talking with his father until they reached the castle.” (from Alice Taylor “At Home through the Fields”
We can’t change the rocky roads for people. We don’t have that kind of magic. But we have the magic of ourselves and the will and the ability to make connections to people in pain, who need our witness and our comfort. As companions along the road, we can ease their journey. We can shorten the road.