The healing power of being seen

Friend, last week, something rather extraordinary happened at my son’s middle school concert (really!), and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.

It was one of those big spring performances where band, orchestra, and chorus all take turns on stage. The auditorium was packed.

My son’s band opened the evening, and just before their second song began, the band director introduced the chorus teacher, who would be accompanying them on the keyboard for that song.

The students got ready. The band director raised her hands, poised to start leading them, when she looked over to a suddenly empty chair behind the keyboard. She paused a second, looked somewhere behind the curtain, and said, “Okay, I’ll be playing the keyboard!” and rushed over to it just in time for the students to begin their first notes.

We all looked around a bit confused and curious about what had just happened, but were quickly redirected when she owned the keyboard and kept the band on track from the side of the stage like a pro. (Truly, I can’t give her enough props for that!)

A little while later, it was the chorus’s turn to take the stage, the chorus teacher (previously MIA) leading the way. The song went off without a hitch, his back turned towards us from the middle of the room where he was playing the piano. When the song finished, he stood up, turned around, and addressed the audience unexpectedly.

“I’ve been going back and forth about whether I wanted to say anything,” he started. “But I feel like I should…”

“The reason I left the stage before was because I had a panic attack,” he explained to the standing-room-only auditorium. He shared that anxiety and panic are things he has struggled with. You could hear a pin drop.

And then he said the thing that my twelve-year-old son later called a “W.” (Which apparently, in preteen language, means it was really cool.)

He moved his gaze all around the auditorium, inviting others who struggle with something similar to consider him a resource because he understands how hard it is.

As he took his seat again, the auditorium erupted into applause: parents, students, grandparents, fellow teachers, all acknowledging what courage that must have taken to say out loud.

Why Vulnerability Creates Connection

He didn’t owe anyone an explanation. He could have quietly moved on with the evening, and nobody would have questioned it. Instead, he chose vulnerability.

He chose to take something painful, uncomfortable, and possibly quite embarrassing, and turn it into an opportunity to normalize mental health challenges—and an invitation to be a resource who gets it.

Life often teaches us to hide the parts of ourselves that feel messy or difficult. We worry that if people see us struggling, they’ll think less of us. We convince ourselves that strength means having everything together. Faking it until we make it.

And yet, the moments that tend to stay with us are rarely the moments of perfection or performance.

The Healing Power of Being Seen

They are the moments of honesty—when someone is willing to be seen. When pain is used as a tool to remind us of our shared humanity. When we connect through what lies beneath the surface.

Healing often begins when we realize we are not alone. Whether you’re navigating grief, anxiety, burnout, or a major life transition, being seen by someone who understands can soften shame, create connection, and remind you that your experience is deeply human.

Sometimes the most powerful medicine isn’t advice. It’s knowing that someone else gets it.

Why Human Connection Matters During Difficult Seasons

That’s such a big part of why I created Arden Healing, my little healing practice in Lewiston, NY. Not because I’ve figured this whole life thing out—actually, quite far from it.

But because I’ve walked through grief. I’ve navigated trauma. I’ve experienced anxiety, loss, major life transitions, and the many ways life can knock the wind right out of us.

And over the years, both through my own healing and the many modalities I’ve studied and practiced, I’ve gathered tools that truly help people find their footing again. The same tools that helped me when I thought I’d never feel okay again.

And, perhaps most importantly, because I know how hard and lonely it can feel when it seems like you’re the only one in the room struggling.

What To Do When You’re Carrying Something Heavy

Friend, if you’re carrying something heavy right now, I invite you to do a few things:

• Talk about it. Bravely share your truth when the opportunity arises—and if it feels safe to do so.
• Look for the people who have gone through it and, if they feel aligned, ask them what has helped them heal. If you don’t have those people in your circle, there are so many wonderful books and podcasts available that could help you feel less alone in your experience.
• Continue showing up in the world—even, and maybe especially when, it feels more comfortable to hide. Your pain needs room to breathe. Give it fresh air, nature, and things to do. (Even going to a middle school band concert could give you the breakthrough you needed to push through another day.)

You Don’t Have to Carry It Alone

And I also want to echo the invitation that the orchestra teacher made:

I’m here. And I get it.

If you’re navigating grief, burnout, anxiety, or a major life transition and would like support, Arden Healing offers Reiki with sound healing, somatic energy coaching, and private yoga sessions in Lewiston, NY, and online.

You don’t have to carry it alone.

In Love, Light, and healing,

P.S. This all reminds me of a quote by Robin Williams: “Everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about. Be kind. Always.” 💛