The Art of Sitting Beside
Its Not You. You don’t own it. It doesn’t own you.
Have you ever just had something inside of you—an ache, a weight, a dull throb of something unresolvable—that you've tried to get rid of but can't? Maybe it’s a grief that lingers, a regret that resurfaces, or a life situation you just can’t change.
The art of sitting beside means we stop trying to absorb it, fix it, or pretend it’s not there. We simply allow it to exist. It’s like letting a quiet guest stay the night, but not giving them your bed. Like sitting beside a silent friend but not engaging in conversation, just letting them be.
This idea came alive for me recently, and honestly, it changed something fundamental in how I hold space for the parts of life that don’t feel fair, or beautiful, or finished. You see, some things we just have to learn to live with—not own, not identify with, not wrestle into a neat box. We just sit beside them. Like a friend we don’t entirely understand but have grown to accept.
What Is “Sitting Beside”?
Sitting beside means letting something exist without fusing it into your identity. It’s the difference between saying "I am lonely" and "I'm experiencing loneliness." One makes it part of your self-definition. The other just sees it as something passing through.
Non-identification: This thing might shape some of your days, but it’s not who you are.
Non-ownership: You don’t carry it like a badge or a burden. It’s not yours forever.
Mindful presence: You learn to breathe next to it, like sitting on a bench beside a quiet stranger.
I started practicing this with a deep ache I’ve carried for years—the longing to feel fully part of something. A village. A tribe. A family. And I’ve never quite felt that. Even when I’m surrounded by people, there’s a sense that I’m slightly outside the circle. Instead of fighting it, I’ve started to just sit beside it. It’s not my identity or who I am — it’s simply part of my experience in this life, because it comes with the path I’ve chosen. But I know I’m someone who is perfectly capable of belonging. So I let it be.
Not judge it. Not try to fix it. Just let it ride along.
The Psychology Behind The Art of Sitting Beside
This isn’t just poetic rambling. Psychology backs this up in beautiful, practical ways:
Cognitive Defusion (Acceptance & Commitment Therapy) - This fancy phrase just means learning to separate yourself from your thoughts. You’re not your thoughts. You’re the one watching them. So when a painful thought shows up, instead of thinking, “I am broken,” you might say, “I’m having the thought that I’m broken.” It’s a huge shift.
Acceptance - Mindfulness research says allowing things (rather than stuffing or battling them) actually helps regulate emotions better. So yes, ironically, sitting beside sadness can make it more manageable.
Self-as-Context - This one blew my mind: you are not the content of your experiences. You’re the observer, the witness, the space where life unfolds. Everything else—pain, joy, drama—is weather passing through.
Affect Labeling - Just naming what we’re feeling—"grief," "fear," "shame"—has been shown to calm the nervous system. You become the namer, not the thing named.
Why It Actually Works
Because here’s the truth:
When we stop fusing with everything we feel, we breathe better.
When we sit beside a tough moment instead of becoming it, we stay in our own power.
When we stop calling everything “mine,” we create space to move forward.
Sitting beside it is like saying, "Yes, you're here. No, you don't get to steer."
A Real-Life Example
I’ll give you a personal one. There’s a deep ache in me that I’ll probably carry forever: the ache of not feeling fully at home anywhere. I’ve lived in different countries, floated between cultures, adapted and adjusted—but always with this sense that I’m orbiting rather than rooted.
And instead of making that ache my identity ("I’m a loner," "I’ll never belong"), I’m learning to sit beside it. I don’t hate it. I don’t glamorize it. I just acknowledge it. It rides in the passenger seat, but I don’t hand it the wheel.
Some Tools to Try
Want to practice the art of sitting beside? Here are a few gentle tools:
Leaves on a stream: Picture your thoughts floating down a stream like leaves. Don’t grab them.
Just let them go.
Emotion labeling: Try saying, “I’m noticing a wave of sadness,” instead of “I’m sad.”
Sensory check-ins: Where in your body is this feeling? Just observe it without judgment.
Breath anchors: Focus on the breath as your tether. Let everything else just be background noise.
What the Experts Say
Some brilliant minds echo this whole vibe:
Dr. Steven C. Hayes, the creator of ACT, talks about cognitive defusion and self-as-context. You are not the mess. You’re the one witnessing the mess.
Dr. Kristin Neff (self-compassion guru) teaches that mindfulness means being present with suffering without over-identifyingwith it.
Jon Kabat-Zinn, mindfulness pioneer, reminds us that we don’t have to “get rid” of anything to be free. We just have to relate to it differently.
Daily Life, Real Practice
Try this:
- Pause. Name what’s arising. “Ah, that’s frustration.”
- Say to yourself, “I’m sitting beside this.”
- Don’t try to solve or fix it right away. Just let it sit there. Observe.
- Gently refocus on your breath, your surroundings, or what truly matters to you right now.
Wrapping It Up
The art of sitting beside is gentle, wise, and quietly revolutionary. It helps us unhook from the myth that we are every thought or feeling we’ve ever had. It creates breathing space. It teaches compassion. And it reminds us that not everything needs to be fixed—some things just need to be allowed.
Let your pain pull up a chair. Offer it a cup of tea. But don’t hand it the keys to your identity. That’s the quiet power of sitting beside.
You don’t have to hold it all. You just have to hold space for it.