eight minutes

With a carefully curated mix of humor and education, expertise and vulnerable storytelling, I laid out the research behind Complex PTSD and detailed how it inched its way to my doorstep throughout the year following Isla’s ultra-rare diagnosis.

I then discussed all of the mental health tools that have been heavily researched in this area and went into depth about what worked and continues to work for me. 

I carefully analyzed each slide and planned and prepared for every possible question … except one. 

“What did you need from everyone around you that was not a therapist?”

I asked her to explain the question further even though I knew exactly what she was asking. To preserve what was left of my visibly-shaken professional demeanor, I needed to buy time.

“I understand and believe all these tools you have mentioned are helpful and clinically-based but what about those around you that weren’t mental health professionals? What did you need from them? What can we do or give to someone in your situation if we are not a therapist?”

After a long silence, I answered, “8 minutes.”

——————

In January of 2023 a piece in the New York Times sparked a viral conversation about the power of an 8 minute phone call to improve your emotional well-being. 

Mental health influencers in the social media space began to take notice and mentioned the 8 minute phone call in several podcasts and posts throughout the year. 

Naturally, it caught my attention.

They postulate that it only takes 8 minutes of hearing a loving and familiar voice to allow for emotional regulation.

I did a deep dive to find the physiological explanation for this phenomenon and kept coming back to answers based on the science that supports breathing techniques. It takes 5-10 minutes of breathing exercises to reset your nervous system where the parasympathetic (rest and digest) and sympathetic (fight or flight) nervous system find themselves in healthy equilibrium. In this context, 8 minutes feels medically and clinically relevant, from what I can tell.

It was during this deep dive that I found a 2021 study where participants who received brief phone calls several times a week experienced significant and rapid reductions in depression, loneliness, and anxiety compared to those who did not receive calls. It seems these small, intentional segments of communication within our most valued relationships can have a profound impact on our overall perception of our life and our situation. A wildly untapped, and completely free, mental health resource.

I want to take it one step further for you because the audience member specifically asked how to help someone who is in emotional pain or deep in new grief. 

For these hurting people, the 8 minutes that you gift will be the hardest to give because it requires you to hurt too.  

At first, this will prove to be way more challenging than you expect because, when you love someone, you don’t want to see them hurt. Your brain, your body, your mind only wants to see them happy and healed. You will want nothing more than to make them “feel better” – quickly. 

So, we naturally rush this along for our own comfort, compromising theirs.

Side bar-

Phrases said to me during the most tender time:

“Ah, this is just a tough season. Things will get better.” 

“Oh, but she is happy right now so it’s all good.” 

“Doctors always give worst case scenarios and they are usually wrong.” 

“You are smart. I’m sure you will figure it all out.” 

“Don’t worry about what hasn’t happened yet.”

True (unfortunate) story-

Within 24 hours of announcing Isla’s new diagnosis, someone actually said these words to me on a phone call “Lisa! Now you can lead women’s groups for moms whose children have died or are dying!” 

The saddest part is, I was so stunned and flailing, I didn’t object. 

Now, there is a huge difference between being invited as a guest to a pity party and being a live witness to pain and grief. Don’t get them confused. A lot of what I am spelling out here is meant for the early days and weeks when it all feels heavy and impossible to navigate. 

During that time, I am convinced that real, true, active listening while holding space for someone is one of the greatest displays of love.

What do you do or say for these 8 minutes (or more)? 

You offer quiet grace, where tears are met with understanding rather than dismissal.

You offer your presence without offering solutions or silencing their suffering.

You witness and honor THEIR truth as THEY see it.

You actively listen without interrupting or giving advice. 

You accept the person’s emotions and experiences without criticism or judgement.

Simply witness the grief, no need to compliment their strength. 

Feel their pain, no need to praise their bravery.

Listen to the sounds of their sorrow, no need to congratulate their ability to hold it all together.

Your word/phrase bank can include: “Tell me more”, “I am listening”, “I am here”, “You are right”, This is so painful” “Yes, this is unfair”. 

Verbally validate all that they share.

This process is so important for the person grieving because grief needs and wants to be witnessed and whatever is not witnessed is stored away. And all that is stored away will present itself in the body one way or another – usually when you think “everything is better now”. And right about here, from stage right-side-of-the-brain, enters the signs and symptoms of PTSD and Complex PTSD. 

Now it is time for a confession.

In the early months of this year, a friend of mine needed my 8 minutes. I was too scared of how she would receive me. She lived with an almost full-term baby with no heartbeat in her belly for an entire weekend and I felt paralyzed. We were not as close as we are now and at that time I didn’t know if I had the right or privilege to be considered a friend close enough to ask for a front row seat to her grief, but looking back now, all I had to do was offer.

While I will never make this mistake again, that experience and that friendship helped me to understand why so many people I love and that love me didn’t offer their 8 minutes. 

This post was not intended to honor my grief, it was intended to honor her’s. 

It was also intended to honor the friend that gave me way more than 8 minutes and let me scream ridiculous things into the dark sky one hot summer night, all the while just nodding and crying right alongside me. 

Brave reader, let’s be the 8 minutes for someone when they need it. You will know when, you will know who, and now – you know how. 

And when you need the 8 minutes, send someone the link to this blog post and ask for 8 minutes. 

The right people will consider it an honor.