A Place to Tell the Truth

A safe space for caregivers to speak and listen.

A Place to Tell the Truth is an online gathering space to speak what’s true without pressure to filter, fix, or even process what others think about your feelings or situation.

It is a place to tell the truth about what you are holding and questioning in general, but specifically around caregiving: caring for ill or aging parents, children with complex needs, or others for whom you are a primary care provider and support.

Why this?

Caregiving is hard work, even when it comes from love.

If you are a parent, there is the routine push-pull, up-down that can feel anything but routine. If your child has complex needs, the worry and considerations are amplified.

If you are caring for aging parents, you may be faced with a complicated range of situations and feelings.

Maybe you’re heartbroken at the changes in your parent or feeling sticky about caring for them in a way they never cared for you. Maybe there are big physical and/or mental health diagnoses and you’re overwhelmed, or worried about what’s headed down the pike. Maybe there are tough sibling dynamics, or no siblings at all.

Whatever you’re faced with, you may feel there is no place to put it all, nowhere to tell the truth.

You may want someone to tell you what to do, but you also know that sinky feeling of getting lost in other people’s thoughts and opinions.

It may feel like the only option is to suck it up and keep it in. Keep going. Keep busy—doing, fixing, tending. Surely you’ll get to the bottom—or the top?—at some point.

This approach makes sense. Our culture loves it! But it also comes at a cost.

Repressing what’s true grinds us down. It diminishes our natural capacity for hope, clarity, and compassion and works in direct opposition to our inherent wisdom and light.

Of course telling the truth about caregiving isn’t the only answer. It isn’t a fix for the layered challenges.

But it is a way to make some space while we do the work. It is a way to stay with ourselves, our strength and our joy. It does help. 😍

A Place to Tell the Truth is a place to:

rest, be renewed, listen, lighten the load, connect, reconnect, clear, breathe

IT is:

A place to be heard. And more importantly, to hear your own voice. We benefit from the kind presence of community but the intention is to listen to our own inner guidance vs. defaulting to the opinions of others. 

A place to listen. Hearing other people's stories can be deeply nourishing. And when we refrain from rushing to our own reactions and advice, we receive.

An opportunity to show up in new ways. With yourself and others.

IT is not:

An open rant. Can you vent? Of course. But we are not here to swap, build, or comment on each other’s complaints.

A support group or therapy session. While the intent is for this to be deeply supportive, we are not mental health professionals and we are not offering counseling or advice.

A place for any single person to lead based on their credentials or life experience. Every person is the expert on her own life. By showing up in honesty and care with others, we deepen our connection with ourselves.

“If we are willing to embrace the challenge of becoming whole, we can’t do it alone. We all need other people to invite, amplify, and help us listen to our inner teacher. We all need trustworthy relationships — tenacious communities of support — if we hope to sustain the journey towards wholeness.”

— Parker J. Palmer

FORMAT

  • Brief intro: reading, meditation, or other

  • Open share: Each person has a chance to say whatever she wants. The rest of us listen.

  • No fixing or advice. Also no pressure to share.

  • If there is interest, we reserve time at the end for sharing resources and information.

QUESTIONS?

  • What if I don’t know anyone? What if I do know someone? What if I laugh? Say something ugly? Cry?

  • There is no one way to show up, other than with an open heart and mind. Come as you are.

  • And, all questions are relevant and welcome! Send them here.

LOGISTICS

  • First Friday of every month (upcoming dates: Feb. 2, March 1, April 12)

  • 9-10:30 am PST

  • Zoom (register below for link)

Interested? Tell us who you are.

You will receive a Zoom link after registering. To keep the container safe and curated, please refer people to this page but do not forward or share the link.

A final note…

I am putting this idea out in the world because it was something I desperately could have used for the 15 years I was a caregiver to my dad.

When he became suddenly and urgently sick in 2008, I became a caregiver overnight. He was young, just 71, and I wasn’t prepared. I was stunned and overwhelmed, and more or less remained that way as his needs intensified over the years,

After one of my dad’s many critical diagnoses, this time a metastatic cancer that doctors predicted would take his life within months, I was talking with a trusted person about where I might go for support. This person led hospice and cancer support groups and said I might try one of those. I said something along the lines of, “But my dad and I have a complicated relationship. I’m not even sure how I feel about him dying at this point.”

He replied, “Well, you’d have to filter.” The words hit me in the gut like a punch. I thought, what on earth is the point of a support group in which you have to filter? 

I didn’t go to that support group, or any other. My dad lived another six years and our relationship didn’t get any less complicated. 

I shared some of my burdens with my family and friends, but my feelings also felt ugly, too messy. I felt trapped. I didn’t really need answers or advice, I needed a place to unburden my heart. A place to tell the truth. 

My dad died on May 27, 2022. He was a good man with a generous heart. I wish he had suffered less. I dedicate this offering in his memory, and to all of us doing the best to take care.

With love,
Christa