The Way of the Circle: The Power of Just Sitting With It

I wasn’t sure what to expect when Diane, a trusted friend, asked if I’d like to go along with her to a women’s circle. I accepted immediately, without any questions or reservations or information.

We left our hometown of Lafayette, IN on one of those early fall nights. The air was crisp and darkness quickly enveloped us, seemingly way too early in the night compared to the long summer nights of the Midwest.

We made our way to a nice neighborhood and majestic home in Indianapolis. The house too was dark, so dark that I questioned if we had found the right place. Yet the door was answered by a gracious woman with silvering hair, who led us into her library, where six other women sat in a circle, some in soft armchairs and others in stiffer, cold folding chairs.

The room, too, was darkened. Not pitch black, but a mimicry of the darkness we had just traversed in the car. Shadowy dark. Grey dark. Womb-like.

The darkness was pierced by the light of a single candle in the center of this circle of women, flickering and creating both light and shadows.

After a quick reminder of the circle's flow, we began. One by one, in order from left to right, each woman had a chance to share what was on her heart and mind. Stories of healing and hope were followed by stories of heartbreak and grief.  Real stories from real women – who found this a safe space to share deeply, joys and sorrows, pain and healing, light and dark.

I was touched by the stories, but what stayed with me even more was what happened in the circle. These women created a space where you could share anything, light or heavy, dark or light. And that your words, your experiences, would be welcomed and accepted just as is.

There was no dialog, no trying to fix or coach or teach or understand. Just listening ears, seeing you, hearing you, accepting you.

Coming from the business world, where action, not acceptance, was the modus operandi, I was shocked into silence. I was accustomed to believing that being helpful meant doing something.

The Transformation

And there, in the dark, amidst laughter and tears, something magical happened. The very act of being able to speak the hard things, to give them voice, pulling them from deep within into the shadowy room, where others were witnesses, but not judges or fixers or problem solvers, had alchemized the entire group. The heaviness was lighter. The somberness was replaced by calm. There was an invisible web of energy, not created by words or actions, but by standing witness to each other and the sharing that had occurred.

The Way of The Circle

Over the next few years, I learned more and more about the “circle way” in a variety of contexts. I sat on the board of a women’s organization that was built on the framework of a circle, rather than a hierarchy. I was part of women’s circles at my yoga studio. I studied the work of Peter Block and his community building, and found the same elements. And I began to pull more of the circle methodology into my work facilitating retreats.

In retrospect, women (and humans in general) have often gathered in circles – around the fire, around the quilting frame, around the dinner tables. And in those circles, all were equal and welcomed and listened to.

The “circle way” can manifest itself in many ways, but shares these common elements:

• Everyone has an equal place.

• One person speaks while others listen.

• What is shared is received rather than fixed.

• Stories are held with care, respect, and confidentiality.

And no matter the setting, the outcomes are consistent:

• A lightening of the spirit when a load is shared or a difficult truth given voice

• The healing aspect of being both seen and heard

• The sense of connectedness experienced when you are fully present to another person’s experience

What I've Learned

Each time I am blessed with being “in circle”, I come away more centered, more grounded, and more aware. At times, I have a deeper awareness of my own journey, struggles and blessings. All the time, with a broadened perspective, awareness, and a reminder that, as humans, we all carry so much that is not seen.

However, my key learning, after many circles, is just how powerful “just sitting with it” can be. It might be fear, grief, heartbreak, joy, sorrow, anger, or any other number of intense human emotions.

No matter the emotion, the ability to be present with another and to listen, to listen hard – without interruption is a gift. Just “sitting with it” means you suppress your own discomfort and don’t allow yourself to divert, avoid, or lighten the other’s experience. It means that you stay in listening mode and avoid judging, fixing, consoling, analyzing or minimizing – all things we are well trained to do. It means giving the other person your full presence and trusting that nothing more is needed.

For all too often:

• We rush to reassure: It will be okay.

• We offer solutions: Have you thought about...?

• We search for silver linings: At least...

• We share our own similar story.

All of those can be well-intended. But sometimes they subtly communicate: I need you to stop feeling what you're feeling.

“Just sitting with it” might seem lazy. It is not. Instead, it moves the work of the moment away from your head and into your heart.

“Just sitting with it” might seem unhelpful. It is not. Perhaps the most helpful thing we can do is be fully present and allow them to express what matters to them freely.

“Just sitting with it” might appear to be easy – it is not. Sitting with another’s reality is emotional work – and the work is not to take on the emotion, but to acknowledge it so that the energy it creates can be surfaced and released.

“Just sitting with it” might appear to be doing nothing. It is anything but.

There comes a time for action; however, action is often driven out of our discomfort with emotion and shirking from hard truths. Circle time is a time to “be,” not to “do.” It is in this way that we gain the clarity and focus that can artfully guide our doing.

My Hope for You

Of course, I hope that you, too, can experience a well-planned and executed circle (join me on one of my sojourns!).

Yet, if you pay attention, there are circles everywhere if we choose to create them: two friends over coffee, sitting beside someone grieving, listening to someone who is struggling, or resisting the urge to solve an adult child's problem.

I entered that darkened room years ago believing that being helpful meant knowing what to say or what to do.

The circle taught me otherwise.

Sometimes there is nothing to solve. Nothing to fix. Nothing to make better in that moment.

Sometimes the greatest gift we can offer another human being is a place beside us, our full attention, and the courage to sit with whatever comes.

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