Yesterday I sat with a friend who had recently experienced a series of devastating losses. His body slumped and lifeless in his chair, his eyes welling up with tears. He talked about the pain and constriction in his chest and how he hadn't really slept in weeks. I wanted so badly to say something to take away his pain or to teach him the different emotional releasing techniques that have served me so well over the last 20 years. But I could sense that my words were not what he needed in that moment. So, I sat with him. As words periodically formed in his mouth, I sat, and I breathed with him. I breathed into my Hara, and I softened the area of my heart. I opened my senses to the room around us. Gradually, I felt his heart start to open, and I noticed his breathing deepening. He started to open up about how he was really feeling and I just sat and breathed with him. Sometimes people don't need our ideas or our words. They just need us to sit with them. And to breathe. Maybe even to breathe for them until they can catch their breath again. This is the physical labor of Zen.
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