Making Space for the “Out of Nowhere”
Recently, I was supporting a friend through some difficult news. We hadn’t spoken in quite some time.
At the moment her message came through, I was walking the aisles of Home Depot, mentally juggling window blinds for privacy, a growing list of home projects, and the quiet urgency that comes with preparing for the holidays. My phone pinged.
Text messages can be hard to read for tone and context. But sometimes, even in just a few words, you know the message deserves more than a quick glance.
As I looked around to ensure the aisle I would be pacing in Home Depot would be private enough, I noticed her messages carried a sense apprehension. They were the messages that would come in after someone was courageous enough to share their need, only to follow up with apologies for inconveniences and for the contact that came magically “out of nowhere.”
A small soft smile curled on my lips and not because anything was funny, far from it. It was becuase that recoil was all too familiar. I felt connected to her in that moment. I typed back:
“It’s okay. I make space for the out of nowhere.”
I tapped her name, held the phone to my ear and waited for her response. The first thing I heard through the small speaker was, “Thank you for saying that.”
That moment has stayed with me.
It stayed with me because it addressed an opportunity we all have to communicate our availability in a world that demands efficacy, productivity, and a schedule. It reflected on the way we present ourselves to other knowingly and unknowingly. It made me realize the value of those “out of nowhere” friends and family.
The Way We Present Our Availability
As a parent, it’s easy to see how time fills up: school schedules, after-school activities, appointments, projects, practices, and the constant role of chauffeur (sometimes I even autopilot to the wrong place). As a leader, there’s another low hum entirely, meetings stacked back-to-back, inboxes filling faster than they can be cleared, travel, deadlines, and decisions.
Life. Fills. Quickly.
And yet, life doesn’t always ask permission before it arrives.
The out-of-nowhere is inevitable on both sides. I’ve been the one reaching for support and the one being reached for. Either way, it requires vulnerability and someone who can be emotionally available without fear of judgment or consequence, someone who can respond with curiosity and not withdraw when feelings enter the room.
Brené Brown, a vulnerability researcher, reminds us this is how connection and trust are formed. Simon Sinek adds that trust grows when leaders prioritize people over performance and are able to offer their full presence without an agenda.
And while some may call these “soft” skills, their absence has very real consequences. They help explain why people feel isolated after tragedy. Why families fracture. Why employees quiet quit. These capacities are not optional. They are essential to our human experience. They are essential to connection.
In that moment, I was grateful for the times I had recognized an “out of nowhere” moment and responded accordingly. But as someone who reflects deeply (and often analytically), it also made me think about the moments I missed, like the times someone didn’t reach out because I “looked busy.” Or one that hurts in reflection, when that person has been my son or daughter.
And when I was the one in need, I remember reaching for my phone, only to put it back down. Or choosing not to step into a supervisor’s office because I felt the same hesitation: This is just too out-of-nowhere.
Which brings me to the real question:
What do we miss when we don’t communicate our willingness to pause for the unexpected?
How do we respond without defaulting to overwhelm or avoidance?
Three Mindset Shifts to Make Space for the “Out of Nowhere”
From “I don’t have time” to “Can I offer 20 minutes?”
The out-of-nowhere doesn’t always require an open-ended commitment. Often, it needs a pause long enough to be felt. Research and leadership theory remind us that trust grows when someone experiences full presence, even briefly. Twenty minutes of intentional attention can lower emotional intensity, signal safety, and create enough connection to move forward. It turns availability into something bounded and intentional.
From “Can I fix this?” to “Can I stay with this?”
We are trained to problem-solve. As parents, we teach skills while allowing space for failure (which is why we sit on our hands when a child insists they don’t need a jacket). As leaders, we promote ownership while managing deadlines and outcomes. These roles awaken the fixer in us. But when we listen without redirecting, people feel validated. When we listen with curiosity instead of preparing our response, we hear what matters most. And when we allow emotion to exist, we reduce our fear of it.
From “Should I carry this?” to “What is mine to hold?”
This is where awareness meets boundaries. Being someone others can reach does not mean absorbing what belongs to them.
Let me say that again: being someone others can reach does not mean absorbing what belongs to them.
Pause and ask:
What do I have energy and space for right now? Is that fair to me—and truly helpful to them?
What support beyond me might be needed?
How can I stay connected without becoming responsible for the outcome?
Learning to make space for the “out of nowhere” isn’t about doing more, but it is about responding with intention, presence, and healthy boundaries.
