The Value of Presence
When you think about moments that have truly shaped your life, chances are that friendship is quietly threaded through many of them. Friends are people who show up when you need comfort, give you courage when you’re uncertain, believe in you when you don’t. They support you when you take a risk, start anew, face heartbreak, or celebrate a win.
Friends steady us when life tilts.
Years ago, I went through one of those periods when the landscape of life feels both vast and uncertain. I had relocated across the country by myself, trading familiarity for possibility. Although I told myself it was a new beginning, the quiet that followed was heavier than I’d expected.
My sense of belonging had not caught up with my new address.
Each day was a mix of small tasks and long silences. The house echoed. One evening, having gotten lost twice while driving to the day’s appointments, I had to navigate violent thunderstorms on the way home.
When I finally arrived – I gave into tears – a private moment of discouragement that most of us know too well.
I sat slumped on my office floor, surrounded by half-unpacked boxes, questioning my decisions when my phone buzzed. It was my friend Anna: “Don’t cook. I’m bringing food.” I assumed she meant that as moral support from afar.
But twenty minutes later, the doorbell rang.
There she was — drenched from the rain, carrying take-out bags with her trademark smile, as if to say: Of course I came. We sat in the middle of my chaos, eating dinner from paper cartons, talking about everything and nothing. She didn’t offer advice or try to lighten the mood.
She simply made space for me — for all of it: the uncertainty, the exhaustion, the self-doubt.
Her presence steadied me in a way no words could have. That night reminded me of something essential: friendship is not built on efficiency or problem-solving. It rests on our capacity for presence.
Genuine presence requires compassionate curiosity. It means holding someone, as my husband says, “with cupped hands and open heart.” Often, we cannot fix problems others are having – and we shouldn’t try. Our presence is felt in the generous act of showing up, the willingness to simply “be” with someone and accept their situation exactly as it is.
Offering our presence to someone is really a form of love.
Over time, I’ve come to see that friendship offers far more than companionship. It reminds us, through genuine presence, that our worth does not depend on performance. Friends mirror the best parts of us when we’ve lost sight of them and lend us strength when our own supply runs low.
“True friendship comes when the silence between two people is comfortable. ”
Even research confirms what the heart has always known: close friendships correlate with longer lives, stronger immunity, and greater emotional stability. But the data only points to what we feel intuitively — that social connection itself is vital to well-being. To be genuinely known and still loved is one of the most stabilizing experiences a human being can have.
When Anna left that evening, nothing external had changed.
The rain still fell, and the boxes still waited. Yet something interior had shifted: a small but certain return of hope. Having such a friend had given me back a sense of balance and humanity.
Friendship, I realized, does not erase difficulty; it transforms isolation into belonging.
And yet, in a world that prizes busyness and individual success, friendship can be one of the first things we neglect. We tell ourselves we’ll reach out soon, we’ll plan that lunch, we’ll reconnect later — and before we know it, “later” has become years. The truth is, friendship needs our time, our attention, and our willingness to stay open.
What You Can Do
Think of a time when someone was very present to you. How did that make you feel?
Identify one person who has stood beside you in a challenging time. Express your gratitude — directly, and soon.
Ask yourself: who in my circle might need presence more than advice right now? Offer a call, a meal, or quiet companionship.
If you’re the one feeling isolated, practice the first step toward reconnection. Attend a gathering, send a message, or take a walk with a neighbor. The smallest gesture often opens the widest door.
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And that’s The Gist of It™ - Promoting humanity by building strong bridges and healthy boundaries in relationships
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Marilyn Gist, PhD