The Honour of the Ask

I’m sure it’s not an accident that I’ve waited for this gorgeously bright and beautiful day in lower mainland, BC to start to share some thoughts inspired by a book I’ve been reading, called “Dark Nights of the Soul” by Thomas Moore.

I haven’t finished it yet, but I’m enjoying the peace I’ve found while reading it. While my lens and experience of the world don’t have a huge overlap with that of the author, I find so much to appreciate in a person who bravely walks toward the topics others avoid, who notices and names the hard things about being human.

While he (so far in my reading) leaves some important aspects of darkness as it relates to being human out, I do appreciate the compilation of aspects he has covered.   

Across those, themes emerge, some that feel already known to me as a therapist, and some (there’s definite overlap!) that feel comforting to me to hear and be reminded of in my humanness. (I think this book may potentially inspire a few separate posts…but for today….)

My thoughts are on the way that hard times (hard feelings, hard experiences, hard lives) are something we feel called to protect each other from. We don’t tend to lean with much confidence into our friends and family when we’re lost, overwhelmed, or in pain. (though I am thinking of some proud therapeutic moments to the contrary and what a big deal those are, how responsive people can sometimes be when they know what we need). I guess it’s simple enough to understand that we don’t want to burden them.

But speaking for myself as a human in the world, I actually WANT to be burdened by my friends and family (no, it’s not evidence of an occupational hazard). I have certainly fallen everywhere on the continuum of helpful and not when someone in my personal world is struggling, and don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying I think I’m supposed to spearhead their solution. I’m saying I would love to be told what they need. Is it a hug? a ride? food made with love? some errands? a cup of tea and a good companionate stare out the window? Yes. I can fit that in. I can see the complete size and shape of the ask AND with all that my life asks me to hold, I can feel secure that my needs and responsibilities won’t be overwhelmed by it. Even if I think they might be overwhelmed…a concrete ask means that I have a working understanding of what would be helpful and can be another advocate or rallying point for connecting help with more capacity for an attuned response.

Sometimes I like to remind folks that attunement isn’t mind reading, it isn’t perfect call and exact response, it’s just response. It’s shared grief when the response can’t be exactly met. So often folks will say (from the need for help or the hope to help) that a casserole doesn’t change anything…but a casserole isn’t just a casserole…it’s acknowledgement, it’s care, it’s time and labour and thought and often, love. I really think that culturally, we need more casserole, yes?

So (assuming you’re with me) if it’s just a casserole and not an unsolvable problem that feels dark and fearful and potentially upsetting to our already overwhelming daily lives, that’s doable, isn’t it? And then doesn’t life suddenly become more manageable AND more connec

ted? Not because we checked a box and not because we believe a casserole saves souls, but because being asked for help is an honour, because taking the risk in vulnerability to be seen struggling and in need of care shows trust, and because being asked and answered affirms our belonging.

And one of the biggest lights in the dark for our community of humans is belonging.