Honoring the quiet labor of presence.

Have You Noticed Your Holding Space Muscle?

I’ve been thinking about what it feels like to hold space—not just in coaching, but in daily life.

It’s subtle. Easy to miss.
Like when you pause before offering advice.
Or when you sit quietly next to someone without needing to fix anything.
Or the way your body softens when your dog leans into you and you just… stay.

I call it the Holding Space Muscle.

It’s not something only coaches or therapists use.
It’s something we all do, often without realizing it—
With friends. With family. With animals.
Even with clay.

When I’m in the studio, working with the flow of the slip and glaze, everything slows down. My hands listen. My breath steadies. I’m not forcing. Just following the material. That’s holding space, too.

And like any muscle, this one needs care.
Rest. Boundaries. Nourishment. Recharging.

Because presence is a form of labor—sacred, invisible, often unspoken.
And it deserves recognition and care.

Some days, holding space looks like deep conversation.
Other days, it’s a quiet walk with a friend who is struggling.

I’ve learned that the days that feel most full are usually the ones where I gave space—
To someone else, or to myself—and let that be enough.

Learning to recognize and honor the quiet labor of presence. Again and again.

photo by Elizabeth Duvivier