Platitudes Or Presence:
Where Are You Coming From?

By Dehyana

When grief comes crashing down, well-meaning voices often rush to fill the silence with phrases like “You’re strong,” “Time heals,” or “Keep busy.” “They’re in a better place.” It was God’s plan.” “Everything happens for a reason.” Yada, yada, yada….

We’ve all heard these phrases. Maybe we’ve even said them ourselves. But have you ever stopped to think about how they land on someone in the throes of grief, fear, sadness or despair?

“You’re strong,” “Time heals,” or “Keep busy.” “They’re in a better place.” It was God’s plan.” “Everything happens for a reason.” Yada, yada, yada….

The Impact of Well-Meaning Words

Now, take a moment to recall a time in your own life when you were in a dark place. Perhaps it was after a divorce, a miscarriage, a job loss, an illness, or the death of a loved one. Do you remember how raw and overwhelming your emotions were? Did someone try to make you feel better with well-meaning but shallow words?

If so, how did it feel? For me, hearing these platitudes and spiritual cliches during my darkest moments didn’t help. Instead, they made me feel unheard, misunderstood, and, ultimately, ashamed for feeling the way I did. It felt like the person wasn’t truly listening.

Can you relate?

Their words may have been spoken with good intentions, but they glossed over the pain, leaving me feeling even more alone.

“In any form of loss, what’s needed isn’t explanations but presence—someone willing to sit with us in the pain, without trying to fix or diminish it. Are you offering platitudes, or are you offering presence?”

The Power of Holding Space

We need to be a safe and supportive container for each other in order to heal, rather than rushing to problem solve. It requires an open heart and genuine curiosity about their suffering. Too often, we react with self-righteous opinions or unsolicited advice that create disconnection instead of understanding. When we serve love—we hold space with compassion and curiosity in the presence of pain.

“Are you willing to be fully present with someone in their deepest pain, offering an open heart and a true desire to connect?”

“Are you willing to be fully present with someone in their deepest pain, offering an open heart and a true desire to connect?”

Presence, Not Platitudes

Here’s what I’ve learned, especially in the wake of my daughter Jordy’s suicide: you can’t fix someone’s pain by taking it away. You can’t talk them out of it with spiritual clichés or “positive” advice. People don’t need a saviour; they need someone to sit with them in their darkest hour. They need validation because their pain is real, and it deserves to be acknowledged.

Our society often promotes the idea of “being strong,” as though strength is the highest virtue in the face of suffering. But I’ve come to see this as a complete misunderstanding. True strength is NOT about bypassing your feelings and emotions—it’s about allowing yourself to fully feel them. In the third dimension, love and pain are two sides of the same coin. You can’t experience one without the other. That’s the nature of life.

Modifying your behaviour to appear strong or to “fit the role” is not true transcendence. It’s suppression, and that suppressed pain will manifest somewhere in your body as disease.

“Modifying your behaviour to appear strong or to “fit the role” is not true transcendence. It’s suppression, and that suppressed pain will manifest somewhere in your body as disease.”

The Discomfort of Witnessing Suffering

When you’re with someone who is deeply grieving, notice how it makes you feel. Are you quick to give advice or share an optimistic perspective? Do you feel the urge to “fix” them? Or maybe you just avoid them? Whatever the case may be, pause and ask yourself: What about their pain is making me uncomfortable?

Sometimes, the discomfort we feel when witnessing someone else’s suffering reflects unprocessed pain or powerlessness within ourselves. Instead of offering quick fixes, take the opportunity to sit with your feelings. What might they reveal about your own relationship with pain and vulnerability?

A Call to Be Present

The next time you encounter someone in pain, resist the urge to offer platitudes or spiritual advice. Instead, just be there. Sit with them. Listen. Acknowledge their pain without trying to make it go away.

Presence is far more healing than any words you could ever say.

Let’s stop avoiding suffering—our own and others’. Let’s meet it with compassion and understanding, courage, and the willingness to simply be with it. After all, that’s what love looks like in the face of pain.

“The human soul doesn’t want to be advised or fixed or saved. It simply wants to be witnessed—to be seen, heard, and companioned exactly as it is. When we make that kind of deep bow to the soul of a suffering person, our respect reinforces the soul’s healing resources, the only resources that can help the sufferer make it through.”—Parker Palmer