Companionship’s Five Practices, Part 3: Side-by-Side

By Rev. Mark Stephenson 

Executive Director, Pathways to Promise

Once, a friend shared with me that she lives with schizo-affective disorder, which sometimes gives her visual hallucinations. A few months later, she called and said, “It’s raining on my television set.” I had never before had someone speak so plainly about a hallucination they were having, and I had to choose how to respond.

When we care about someone, we’re tempted to push, cajole, or argue with the person when they express having experiences that are contrary to fact. Fortunately for me, for years before my friend called, my mother was training me to walk side-by-side with her as her dementia worsened. Mom would ask me about appointments that I knew she did not have, or she would ask for people who had passed away years before. I had learned that arguing with her was fruitless and disrespectful. 

Similarly, when we care about someone, we are tempted to give them advice when we see them making decisions that look to us to be foolish or self-destructive, but as Companions we remember and affirm the other person’s dignity and agency. (When the other threatens harm to themselves or another, we’ll take action to get them help.) The third (of the five) practices of Companionship, Side-by-Side, calls us to “develop a relationship as equals, looking out at the world together in order to understand one another and to see what possibilities lie ahead...we do not try to force our perspective on the other person but, rather, try to understand the world as he or she sees it. In companionship, we learn from each other.” (Craig Rennebohn, The Way of Companionship, p. 29.)

Thanks to my mom’s tutelage as I walked side-by-side with her, I was able to take the perspective of my friend when she called about her TV. I responded by turning her statement into a question, “It’s raining on your television set?” She answered affirmatively; so I asked, “And how does that make you feel?” She said, “Oh, I’m not worried. I know this is a hallucination.” Curious, then, why she called me, I asked, “So help me understand why you’re calling me about this.” She answered, “I just needed someone else to know what I’m experiencing at this moment.” I said, “Ahh. Thanks for honoring me as the one you called about this experience.” She thanked me for listening. By walking side-by-side with my friend, she felt safe to share with me a bit of the world that I never would have known otherwise, and that’s always an honor.