They Don’t Need a Yacht
Brennan J. Kent / March 19, 2026
When someone is drowning, they don’t need a yacht. They just need something that floats. A rope. A raft. Even a beat-up buoy tossed their direction. Because in that moment, they’re not thinking about comfort or presentation—they’re just trying to breathe.
And I think we forget that sometimes.
When we see someone struggling—at work, at home, in life—we hesitate. We wonder if we have the right words, or the right response, or something meaningful enough to actually help. And when we’re not sure, it can lead to inaction. We hold back because we don’t feel equipped to show up the “right” way.
But people in hard moments aren’t looking for perfect. They’re looking for present.
No one in the water is asking if a yacht is coming to rescue them. They’re just hoping something—anything—reaches them in time. And yet, we convince ourselves that if we can’t offer something polished or profound, maybe we shouldn’t offer anything at all.
That’s just not true.
Most of the time, people don’t need to be fixed. They don’t need a perfectly worded message or a well thought-out solution. They need someone to help them catch their breath. Someone to sit with them long enough to gather their bearings. Someone willing to step into the mess and remind them they’re not alone.
I think about the times people have shown up for me. They didn’t come with a keynote speech or a golden answer. They came with presence. They sat with me. They walked into the fire with me. And that mattered more than anything they could have said.
One moment that sticks with me came during a really difficult season in my life. My wife and I were navigating a pregnancy loss, and there was a quiet distance growing between us. One night, I walked into the bathroom late, and my toothbrush was sitting there with toothpaste already on it.
That was it.
No speech. No big conversation. Just a small, simple act.
Maybe it was a reminder about my breath. But what it really felt like was an olive branch. A quiet way of saying, “I see you. I still like you. I’m with you.”
It sounds small, maybe even a little insignificant. But in that moment, it meant everything.
Because when you’re struggling, you’re not looking for a yacht. You’re just looking for something that helps you breathe again.
So if you’re ever wondering whether to reach out—do it. Even if your words aren’t perfect. Even if you don’t have a solution. Even if all you have is something small to offer.
Throw the buoy.
Send the text. Sit down next to them. Do the small thing.
You don’t need to be a poet to step in when someone is taking on water. You just need to be willing to show up.
Because more often than not, that’s exactly what they need.
