From a young age, I noticed that people shared things with me. Their histories, their stories, their secrets, their wishes.
This continued into adulthood with friends and work associates. Over the years, I’ve heard a lot of people’s deepest, and sometimes their darkest.
I’ve received the calls for help. I’ve read the texts with subtexts. I’ve listened, and I’ve helped.
I used to call myself the Camp Counselor, as though I was the unofficial listener and dispenser of advice. As though I had a hat on, which offered my services.
This, perhaps, is my way forward in the world of traditional medicine.
Providing a space to talk is often the first step for anyone in their journey to healing. Most times, simply getting something “off your chest” leads to the emotional healing that is needed to commence physical healing.
And sometimes that space isn’t a space at all, but instead a face, or a presence. Someone who you can simply talk to.
Of the many doors the universe is opening for me right now, one is definitely into the room of platicas, or talk spaces. The word in Spanish is platicar, which means to talk.
Whether it be twenty minutes with a friend I haven’t seen in years, or messaging on What’s App with a colleague, the sharing of thoughts and worries and hopes and desires and confusions is happening.
I am listening, I am learning, and I am here for them. I am here to give them that space they need.
The added benefit for me is to share that space with them as they share. The gift they give me is my own opportunity to vent too; to commiserate alongside them.
After all, the one thing we all share is that we are human, and we all need space.
I believe this is certainly true for men, who often sacrifice their mental space. Guys: we are vessels, too, and we tend to fill our bottles to the breaking point.
And so, dear reader, one of my missions on my journey to being a curandero—a healer—is to give space to talk. If you need it, reach out. Find me. I’m here. And I will listen.
Twitter or Instagram @btaylorgarcia