There is great beauty in the simple* act of bearing witness. To just be, and be there, for another in what they are going through in that moment. Not to fix. Not to provide advice. Not to agree. Not to negate. Not to do something. But to just be and acknowledge and honour the emotions and feelings and thoughts and to honour each other in our shared humanity.
In that there is also a great power in the simple act of bearing witness. To allow what is there to pass, to open, to become a clearing, to allow love and beauty and empathy and verve and whole heartedness to arise once more.
It is a beautiful moment of generosity, of empathy, of connectedness, and of who we all are together.
(I was fortunate to be able to provide this once, to a lone person crying within a large crowd. A few of us were drawn to them, crouching down and reaching out with a single hand, wordlessly lending our presence and our attention. Bearing witness to and honouring their anguish, and in so doing honouring that for what or whom they were anguishing for. As their storm subsided we began to leave, one by one, still silent, leaving with them as they returned to the present, serene and smiling.)
* Simple in that it consists only of being present and attentive and for the other. Not-so-simple if we are not used to being present, or not facile with being vulnerable, or become distracted by our inner chatter or judgement or make it about ourselves or anything of that sort. But when we practice mindfulness and work to transform and self-cultivate and remove our own baggage and barriers we are not only more available for ourselves but for others as well.