PowerPoint Johanna: Helping, Fixing, and Learning to Sit in the Suck

I recently had a pretty big "oh sh*t..." moment.

And although my story has a strong element of humour running through it, the truth is that it was one of those realizations that actually kind of hurts when you figure them out.

And given the number of years I’ve been a ‘listener’ as part of my volunteer work, the literally hundreds of hours of training in active listening, and the countless conversations I’ve had while supporting people through some of life's hardest experiences…

I actually thought I had the whole “being supportive” thing nailed.

Well… apparently not so much. Or at least not the way I thought I had.

So here’s the story… I was driving home from work one day after a conversation with a colleague who was going through something rough. During the conversation, I thought I was listening. I felt like I was being supportive.

I thought I was helping.

But here’s where I realized afterward that I’d stepped in “it”… (You know… the kind of “it” you need to scape off the bottom of your shoe…)

Somewhere around her second and third sentence, my brain had already identified the problem, diagnosed the root cause, developed three possible solutions, and opened PowerPoint.

Mentally, of course. I wasn't actually building a presentation.

At least not yet.

One of the things I've learned about myself is that I have a pretty strong action bias.

I like progress.

I like solutions.

I like figuring out how to move things forward.

I think of myself as a bit of a ‘fixer’.

And in many areas of my life, that's worked well for me.

It's helped me navigate grief… It's helped me learn new skills… It's helped me step into volunteer roles that once would have terrified me… And it's helped me build a podcast from scratch.

But every strength can have a shadow side.

And one of the shadow sides of being solution-oriented is that sometimes we start solving before we've truly understood the problem.

Or worse... Before we've truly taken the time to understand the person and what they are feeling about the problem.

Because not every conversation is a request for advice. Not every problem has a solution.

And even when it does, people don't always need our solution.

Sometimes what they need is connection.

The colleague who came to talk to me that day wasn't really bringing me a problem. At least not in the way I thought she was.

She was dealing with a difficult workplace situation involving another person, and it was affecting her emotionally, psychologically, and mentally.

What she needed wasn't a strategy. What she needed wasn't a five-point action plan. And she definitely didn't need a PowerPoint presentation.

What she needed was someone to listen. Someone who understood the situation. Someone who could acknowledge how difficult it felt. And someone who wouldn't judge her feelings or immediately try to fix them.

In hindsight, I realized I had been listening for problems while she was sharing feelings.

And those are not the same thing.

That realization sent me down a rabbit hole.

How many times had I done this before?

How often had I mistaken problem-solving for support?

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that helping and fixing are not the same thing.

Fixing says: "Let me solve this."

Helping sometimes says: "I don't know how to solve this, but I'm here with you."

That is a much harder skill than most people realize, because when someone is hurting, our instinct is often to make the pain stop. To reduce their discomfort. To offer advice. To provide answers. To help them find a way forward.

But some experiences don't need to be solved immediately.

Sometimes people need space to process. Sometimes they need to feel seen – and sometimes they simply need to know they aren't alone.

Empathy, Sympathy, and Climbing into the Hole

One of the concepts I've learned through volunteer work is the difference between sympathy and empathy.

Sympathy often sounds like: "Oh, you poor thing."

Empathy sounds more like: "That sounds really hard."

There's a subtle but very important difference. Empathy doesn't look down at someone from a distance. It sits beside them. It acknowledges their experience without trying to take it over. And that's important because there is another trap that helpers can fall into.

It's called enmeshment.

That's when we don't just sit beside someone in their struggle - we climb right into it with them. We absorb their emotions and we take ownership of their problem. We start carrying something that was never ours to carry.

That's not support either. Because now there are two people stuck in the hole.

Real support lives somewhere in the middle.

Not fixing.

Not rescuing.

Not absorbing.

Just showing up.

Another Habit I'm Trying to Break

This realization also forced me to look at another phrase I use all the time: "You need to stop beating yourself up about that."

I always mean it kindly, but I've started to realize that it's often another form of fixing.

When someone says: "I feel terrible about what happened”, my instinct is to reassure them and make the feeling go away.

But if they're still talking about it, they're probably not finished processing it. They're still trying to understand it, learn from it, and make sense of it.

And by trying to immediately remove their discomfort, I may unintentionally be dismissing something important to them.

Sometimes people don't need us to erase the feeling. They need us to sit with them while they work through it.

What About People Who Stay Stuck?

I'll be honest… This is the part I still struggle with.

I have a hard time watching people complain about the same thing over and over without taking action. The fixer in me wants to hand them a flow chart and a three-step plan. My patience gets stretched pretty thin, pretty quickly.

But I've had to learn that their readiness matters – not mine. People don't always change when they know what to do. Sometimes fear gets in the way… Sometimes grief gets in the way… Sometimes uncertainty gets in the way.

Support isn’t taking ownership of someone else's growth. It’s respecting that their journey belongs to them. Even when we wish we could push things along a little faster.

If there's one thing this whole experience taught me, it's that support is often much simpler than I make it. But at the same time, it’s also much harder.

I'm trying to learn to:

• Listen more and talk less.
• Ask what support looks like instead of assuming.
• Stop assuming advice is wanted.
• Resist opening PowerPoint before the other person finishes talking.

Because support isn't fixing… Support isn't rescuing… Support isn't absorbing… Support is staying present while someone else figures out the roadmap for their own journey.

And if you're anything like me, and your instinct is to immediately solve every problem that crosses your path, maybe that's something worth reflecting on too.

Sometimes people don't need our answers.

Sometimes they just need our presence.

Before you go...

Whether you're reading this with a cup of coffee, killing time during your lunch break, or while avoiding something else on your to-do list, I'm glad you're here.

This article began life as an episode of the Transformative Journeys podcast. If you'd rather listen to the conversation, you'll find it wherever you get your podcasts.

And if you're in the mood to wander a little, there are plenty of other articles, podcast episodes, and free resources waiting for you over at transformativejourneys.ca .

No pressure.

Just possibilities.

And an invitation to take care of yourself.