The Space In Between or
Some Notes on Relational Medicine
By Rebecca Diaz
But as long as you remember what you have seen, then nothing is gone.. ― Leslie Marmon Silko
The medicine is in us, my friend.
You, born of natural wisdom
―a misfit and rebel to a fully functional society.
I wonder what to say to you often,
fumbling with the desire to wake you,
taking in grief as obstacles grow inside you.
Who will usher their arrival?
Who will be there to receive them,
walk beside you as they manifest,
breath by breath―this is a labor of sorts.
You and I sit long in their qualities of confusion.
Together, we greet their way of making meaning.
I hold this in regard, brokenhearted, then take them in as my own
―learn to love them like potted plants.
Feed them the food of relationship: a shared bowl of french fries, empty sardine tins,
a small beaver dam, two crows circling overhead, long drives through mountain peaks,
whispers from unseen voices, the kind of gaze that reaches other worlds.
Could I say this to you, share the imprint you’re leaving?
This is not a care I’ve known before. It is uniquely unfolding.
It reveals itself in the way you run low to the ground and sweep in fast.
The way you fling wide open like windows and slam shut in the slightest gust⸺transparent, heavy, luminous.
Steadied along the path even as a presence befuddles.
You are iron will and tenderness.
You are earth, hibiscus, and dogwood.
You walk this world sensitive to the subtleties of the wind as it breaks against our backs.
We run like children, starting and stopping to tell a story or break open milkweed pods
―seeds spread all along this path.
You launch a flight of ideas in the woods,
and we sit beside the creek searching for words that fit you,
taking deep sighs when one is found.
Watching you wake to the awe of connection is a gift, my young friend.
I value the seat beside your wildness.
Take my shoulder, while we’re here,
memorize the bodies standing at your back as obstacles come and go,
remember this place where we held cold stones and
contemplated their shape, where you willingly lent yourself to my path
and I to yours. The two of us easing and growing
from the space in-between.
Rebecca Diaz MA LPCC (she/they) has worked at Windhorse Community services since the fall of 2019. Rebecca was hired as a team counselor soon after completing their counseling practicum with Windhorse Community Services. Rebecca currently works in Assistant Team Leader and Team Leader roles. Rebecca is also a psychotherapist and works with individuals and couples in group practice. Rebecca is a graduate of the Naropa Master’s program in Contemplative Psychotherapy and Buddhist Psychology.. Rebecca believes social identities are sacred — race, class, gender, ability, sexual orientation, difficult states of mind, and expression. They welcome, celebrate, and invite clients’ social identities into the healing process. In their spare time, Rebecca loves to explore bodies of water, study and write poetry, and collects thrift store tchotchkes
Rebecca, what a vivid journey to read this. I can feel and see very word and stanza. Thank yo so much for your offering and being in this world!
Thank you for feeling your way through this and sharing it. I appreciate you so very much.
Rebecca, thank you for sharing this. It awakens in me a connection and reminder of this as medicine. Knowing how to go towards medicine and offering medicine by the willingness to connect. In appreciation.
Thanks for this reflection, Beka. I love what you say here, “go towards medicine” through the willingness to connect.
Love this so much Rebecca! 🙏
Beautiful, thank you for sharing your experience and putting such wonderful words to such a complex relationship of learning, care and healing.
Thanks, Art. It is so complex and simple at the same time, too.