It is said that talking is 'good' for us. It is a beneficial process. It helps healing. It helps us acknowledge certain things we may otherwise be blissfully unaware of - whether that be a conscious or unconscious decision. Sharing problems, lifting a heavy weight from our shoulders, bringing the unconscious into awareness, bringing the unspoken to the surface.
Whichever way it is thought of - talking is helpful. Otherwise why would we pay therapists to sit in stillness while patiently reflecting back to the client the million dollar question - 'and tell me, how does that make you feel?'
Well, today the phrase 'all talked out' seems most appropriate.
An hour with the new lady at the clinic this morning - surprisingly it wasn't too bad. Then a tutorial with my academic tutor at uni for an hour and a half, followed very closely by another tutorial with my placement tutor for an hour and a half. Must note that these are rather long tutorials.
I am not complaining. My tutors are quite lovely human beings. I am actually incredibly fortunate to have people in life who willingly take time out of their day to sit in a room with me and talk. To talk and also to listen. To be present and to be there. To care. To validate while offering new ways of thinking and opening up avenues of possibility.
To be validated is to be recognized in an authentic and absolute state. No falsified pretense, just natural simplicity. Sounds simple, but I think it's a feeling that holds some of the most real and meaningful powers. So, maybe too much talking only promotes a lot more contemplation. Which can be a lovely thing in my books. It's quite evident that I think maybe a little too much at times, but probably just as much as most, if they just open their minds once in a while.
Enough writing for 3.15am...