Somewhere between the raging hormones and general displacement of life, I forget there’s such a thing as therapy. Therapy comes in many forms and can mean different things to different people. For some, therapy means talking to a professional (not for me). For others, therapy might mean a long run (also not for me). When I think about the word, I typecast it as an outgrowth of meditation, which also has a pretty comprehensive definition.
Therapy, for me, is communicating. I love a good story, and I love people who can convey good stories well. I believe that conversations have all the healing potential. The term itself comes from the Latin word "vertere" (to turn) and con (with). Conversations, therefore, are a curative process of turn-taking dialogue that can be both verbal and non-verbal.
I never fully understood the power of conversation until yesterday. The Laguna Beach backdrop couldn't have been a more perfect setting for such an interaction, and I'm positive that no amount of narcotics could ever get me as high as I felt. I couldn't stop smiling for hours after. And that's when I realised, a frank conversation is like sunlight: it's imperative for your health because no one wants vitamin D deficiency.