Build with Clay #99: Presence
A bi-weekly newsletter sparking personal growth
Hi, reader!
Trivia for today: If you took all the water from the 5 Great Lakes and spread it evenly across the contiguous United States (48 States) - what would the depth of the water be?
With that, welcome to the 99th newsletter! This one is all about Presence.
A story.
Excerpt from How To Know a Person by David Brooks:
“I recently read about a professor named Nancy Abernathy who was teaching first-year med students, leading a seminar on decision-making skills, when her husband, at age fifty, died of a heart attack while cross-country skiing near their Vermont home. With some difficulty, she managed to make it through the semester and carried on with her teaching.
One day she mentioned to the class that she was dreading teaching the same course next year, because each year, during one of the first sessions of the course, she asks everybody to bring in family photos so they can get to know one another. She wasn’t sure if she could share a photo of her late husband during that session without weeping.
The course ended. Summer came and went, and fall arrived and, with it, the day she dreaded.
The professor entered the lecture hall, full of trepidation, and sensed something strange:
The room was too full.
Sitting there, along with her current class, were the second-year students, the ones who had taken her class the year before.
They had come to simply lend their presence during this hard session. They knew exactly what she needed, and didn’t need to offer anything more.”
A thought.
After my dad’s passing in December of 2018, I found myself preparing for his funeral.
I was attempting to hold it together for my mom, my brother, my dad’s friends and family and lastly, myself. (To no one’s surprise, it was also the same week I had my first ever panic attack.)
While I will always recall the love, thoughts and prayers I received from many people during that week, two things stick out:
First, the day before the funeral, a close friend from Atlanta flew in to accompany me and another close friend to dinner. I was able to get feedback on the eulogy I had written, share stories and have some semblance of normalcy before a really hard day.
Second, while sitting in the church parlor alongside my family, waiting to be ushered into the funeral, I happened to glance outside. Through the large window I saw a family friend from Florida heading into the church with her parents. She was days away from getting married and I knew had made quite the sacrifice to be there.
Six years later, their presence still sticks with me. They, along with many others, had come to simply lend their presence during this hard moment. They knew exactly what I needed, and didn’t need to offer anything more.
Who can you be present for?
A quote.
“Sometimes just being there is enough.”
- Unknown
Answer: 9 feet deep (Thank you, Bill and Kathy for that question!)