On Holding Space

What it really means to listen, to honour, and to simply be there.

There’s a phrase we hear often these days — especially in wellness spaces, therapy circles, and long conversations between close friends:

“Holding space.”

It sounds gentle. Spacious. Even poetic. But what does it actually mean? And why does it matter so much?

At The Source, it’s a phrase I return to often — whether I’m teaching a morning yoga class, sitting across from someone in the podcast studio, or simply sharing a quiet moment with my daughter.

For me, holding space is not about fixing anything. It’s about being present enough to let things be what they are. Without judgment. Without urgency. Without needing to fill in the blanks.

It begins with presence.

I spent years on the radio, trained to keep the conversation flowing, to fill every second with words, rhythm, engagement. But in real life, I’ve come to realise that the most powerful moments are often the quiet ones — the pause after someone speaks their truth, the breath before a story takes shape, the stillness that holds it all together.

Holding space is the opposite of performing.

It’s the practice of being there — fully there — without looking away.

It took me a while to learn that. Wait, let me rephrase that. It took me a while to unlearn the ‘performative’ aspect of connecting and lean in towards fostering deep connections sans performance. It took me longer to even get comfortable with the idea. There’s a fair measure of vulnerability involved in allowing the world to SEE YOU, free of artifice, free of needless chatter.

But what a relief, when you realise you don’t have to have all the answers. You just have to stay. And in showing up with vulnerability, you allow the other person to reciprocate. 

And in this silent reciprocation lies growth and hope. 

HOLDING SPACE

The invisible work of witnessing

Every day at The Source, I see this unfold in tiny, powerful ways.

A student stays back after class, eyes full of something they don’t yet have words for.

An interview guest pauses mid-sentence, surprised by their own emotion.

Even my daughter, — not yet three — will sometimes stop what she’s doing, look me in the eye, and just be. Fully present. Demanding nothing but my presence in return.

We live in a world that rushes to respond. But holding space is about the opposite.

It’s about resisting the urge to fill the silence.

It’s about letting people land — as they are.

And then there’s holding space for yourself

This, perhaps, is the hardest bit.

It’s one thing to show up for others — it’s another to show up for yourself, without judgment or distraction.

Some mornings, it’s just me and my breath in the shala before the city stirs awake.

Some nights, it’s giving myself permission to feel the heaviness without trying to talk myself out of it.

Holding space for myself has meant learning to honour my own rhythm.

To know when I’m tired. To say no without guilt. To be soft yet clear.

To not always turn everything into a lesson or a podcast or a performance. And lately, to honour the seasons of life that my body is in physically.

Sometimes, it’s just about being with myself. Quietly. Kindly. Honestly.

What holding space isn’t

Let me be clear:

Holding space does not mean taking on someone else’s pain as your own.

It doesn’t mean rescuing them, or offering spiritual one-liners in place of real listening.

And it certainly doesn’t mean tolerating harm or abandoning your own boundaries.

It’s not martyrdom.

It’s not performance.

It’s not about centering yourself in someone else’s process.

Instead, it’s a slow, conscious choice to be a witness.

To hold the door open while someone finds their way through.

At The Source…

When we built The Source, I knew it had to be more than just a studio.

It had to feel like something. A space you could exhale into.

A place where people could come to speak, stretch, stumble, breathe, begin again.

Whether you’re on the mat, behind the mic, or just quietly figuring life out —

this is your space to land. To be heard. To be held.

No rush. No pressure. No masks.

Because holding space isn’t some lofty concept. It’s a practice. A daily act of love.

And it begins, always, with presence.

Much Love,

Shezzi M

Founder, The Source