There’s a stray line from a novel called The Book Thief. One of the main characters, Hans Hubermann, is sitting with his foster daughter after she’s just arrived at Hans’ house. The narrator says, “The first couple of times (Hans) simply stayed – a stranger to kill the aloneness … Trust was accumulated quickly, due primarily to the brute strength of the man’s gentleness, his thereness.”
I love that phrase: “the brute strength of the man’s gentleness, his thereness.” Sometimes I’m saddened by the ways I’ve practiced somewhere-else-ness or someone-else-ness. Of course regrets don’t help me practice thereness. So here’s my goal these days: to practice thereness, to be fully present to God and others, to have the real me show up and pay attention to the real you. Jesus, help me to be there.
One of the most powerful things we can give to those in grief or tragedy is our “thereness.” Sometimes we think our words are more significant than they really are. Our availability, our sheer presence is most important and displays love in ways our words will never be able to do.
Thanks Bonnie. Yes, you are so right. I used to think people wanted me to fix them or to agree or disagree with their pain. Most of the time suffering people are looking for our thereness or what Simone Weil called our “attention.” That is so powerful and such a miraculous act of love.