On Holding Space.

Something about me that most people find out pretty quickly is that I'll talk....probably beyond the bounds of social acceptability for any given situation. I actually have noticed that in public or with strangers and passersby I actually talk less than other people; I'll always use a self-checkout if one is available and I rarely go out of my way to engage with strangers. But put me in a situation where I'm expected to mingle and I will mingle til I drop. I will befriend at least one, if not many, people at a wedding where I know only someone standing at the altar; I will strike up conversation with a group of people at a holiday party I was invited to through a tangential connection; I will ingratiate myself with everyone at the potluck. 

I've often said that talking is my superpower. I can talk about anything or nothing for as long as needed and if I think the other person in the conversation isn't sure what to say or needs some time to warm up, I'll just chatter away until they feel comfier. I'm sure this bothers some people and is less than helpful at times when I'm oblivious to it, but I think overall it's a good quality of mine. 

The downside is that I have a hard time turning my desire to speak off which only worsened in the deep isolation of quarantine pandemic days. I pipe up entirely too often in the myriad book clubs I'm in and sometimes worry that other folks don't get the chance to contribute as much as they want as a result. Granted, this is a deeply ingrained habit from my classroom days, when most kids loathed speaking up in class and I almost always had something readily available to yammer on about. I've seldom, if ever, been afraid to be the first to speak up. 

But I've recently realized that it has a positive side I haven't always noticed, too. My chatter is inclusive. Yes, I can inadvertently monopolize a conversation, but I will do this to everyone equally. And when there is someone who has a harder time communicating, I will put in effort to include them if at all possible, which I've learned is not a trait that everyone shares. This week two people in dramatically different contexts mentioned that their loved ones who speak English as a second language and have a more difficult time connecting with English speakers because of it told me that those folks are more willing to talk to me than anyone else. And I think that's a pretty big compliment!

While I often feel like I should be striving to talk less, it sometimes helps to remember that the very thing that feels excessive can be an advantage to some people. It's always nice to feel included. I'm really glad that my incessant jabbering has opened the door for at least two people I see regularly in my life in Austin to feel like they are included and can talk to me.

I'm not really sure what my point is with all this (other than to brag, I guess) but I think maybe it's about the fact that the things that make us unique are often our greatest assets, even when they feel like things to be embarrassed about. I hope that reading this reminds you to embrace your idiosyncrasies and watch how they enable the people around you to feel safer and more welcome.