What It Really Means to Hold Space: The Seen and Unseen of Sacred Facilitation

In recent years, the phrase "holding space" has become more common, shared in conversations about healing, circles, community care, and conscious leadership. But what does it truly mean? Beyond the Instagram quotes and gentle facilitation language, there is a deeper, older, more embodied understanding.

To hold space well is not simply to be calm or kind. It is to become a vessel, an active presence with both visible and invisible threads of responsibility. It asks something of us.

Holding Space Is Being a Listener

At its heart, holding space begins with deep listening. Not just to the words people say, but to what isn’t said. The silence between sentences. The tremble in a voice. The energy in the room.

Listening means I don’t rush to fix, soothe, or interpret. I make room for what wants to come forward. I soften the urge to control the moment and trust the wisdom of emergence.

But to truly listen, I must also quiet my own inner noise. That means tending to my own emotional reactivity, my projections, and my need to be the “good facilitator.” It means doing the personal work before I enter the circle, so I don’t unconsciously make someone else responsible for my discomfort.

Holding Space Is Being a Protector

In any circle or shared space, visible or not, I take on the role of protector. That doesn’t mean I dominate or control, it means I take responsibility for the edges of the space, so others can safely soften within it.

Protecting space may mean setting boundaries, naming harm when needed, or guiding the energy back to presence if things spiral into chaos or collapse. It’s knowing how to anchor when the room gets shaky.

But protection is not always loud. Sometimes it’s a subtle clearing of energy, a gentle redirect, a whisper to the land for support.

Holding Space Is Being a Shape-Shifter

When I hold space, I don’t just stand in my human identity. I shape-shift. I stand in both the seen and unseen. I’m speaking to the people in front of me, but I’m also listening to the land beneath us, to the ancestors in the room, to the spirits of the place.

I hold hands with mystery and walk in-between. Not to control or perform, but because the unseen is part of the space, always. Animism teaches me this. Nothing is ever truly alone.

To facilitate from an animist heart is to remember that the circle is not just made up of humans. The drum has presence. The tree outside the window is participating. The silence is alive.

Animism Informs My Facilitation

Animism is the root of how I work. It reminds me that everything is in relationship.

I don’t enter a circle as the authority. I enter in service to the web of connections, to the more-than-human kin who are part of the work. I don’t claim to “create” transformation, I help tend the space where transformation can arise.

This means I speak to the land when I arrive. I offer to the fire, the forest, Father sky, Mother earth. I listen to the drum not just as a tool but as a being. I ask permission. I acknowledge presences we may not have language for, and I stay curious.

When I facilitate, I’m in a relationship not just with people, but with the unseen forces that hold us all. The old ones. The ancestors. The wild intelligences that live in rock and bone. And I listen when they call for a shift in time and energy.

The Responsibility of Holding Space

This path isn’t romantic or easy. It’s weighty and wild. It asks me to be humble, to tend my own wounds, to stay in alignment even when no one is watching.

And yet, there is beauty here. Sacredness.

To hold space is to be a bridge. A guardian. A servant of mystery.

And every time I step into the circle, I remind myself:

I’m not here to lead from ego.

I’m here to walk beside the ones who gather.

I’m here to listen with more than ears.

I’m here to hold, not as a cage, but as a nest.

If this way of holding space speaks to you, you might feel drawn to my upcoming Circle Facilitator Training. It’s not just about tools and techniques, it’s about rooting deeply into the unseen, the land, and the sacred responsibility of guiding others. You can read more about it HERE