“You were a healer in another life.”

That’s what she said to me. She was a witch of a lady. As in, I really think she was a witch. Lady bugs crawling on her arms, spiders in her hair. The kind of stuff you read in children’s novels. She also told me I was in my 4th dimension, I’m not even sure what that means. She told me that I radiate light. I tried to take this all in but as always it was hard for me to reconcile how I feel about the universe and how I feel about God. A love of crystals and astrology paired with a love of crosses and Jesus. Somehow the pieces of my life never fit into place quite right.

But I believed her. Because as soon as she said it everything finally made sense.

I’m a hand holder. Every time someone tells me something painful, something awful, I reach for their hand. You would think these awful stories would be an occasional thing but they happen so often I used to look for storm clouds above my head. Something to explain why tales of human suffering are drawn to me. Why do people want to tell me their terrible things? Maybe you could say I’m a good listener or that I empathize really well. But these are people who don’t even know me. They don’t know what I’m good at. But they spill it out on the table in from of me, and I take their hand.

I always felt like it was a way of transferring. In my mind I was trying to pull something from them, take it onto myself. I would always feel heavier when they left. A burden placed upon me because I haven’t found a way to be immune to other people’s pain. But I’ve always felt better for it. Like I knew how to somehow take their pain inside of me and disperse it. But I’ve never thought of it as healing. I always just saw it as this moment of peace share between two people. That maybe they, for this one moment, don’t feel alone in whatever they are feeling.

So maybe I was a healer in another life. Maybe I’m a healer in this life. Who’s to say you can’t be whatever you want to be? Who’s to say you can’t do great extraordinary things?

I used to believe I could mind over matter pain. Doctors have stood in awe of my pain tolerance. I always think to myself, “You don’t know what I’ve been through. This physical pain doesn’t compare to the pain that’s been in my heart.”. But maybe in those moments when I take someone’s hand is just like this. Maybe I help people mind over matter their emotional pain for a minute. Maybe it heals them.

People do great extraordinary things all of the time and their names never make it into the history books. But maybe their names just make it into people’s hearts. Maybe I’m in someone’s heart. Maybe that’s enough for me.