Fierce Compassionate Counseling

North Austin Psychotherapy

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Growth during change

About a month ago, I resigned to the fact that I’ll likely be doing online sessions for a while.  I had been going to my office periodically to water my plants.  I love my office and plants do too.  A large sliding glass door lets in a lot of natural light and all the plants that I’ve brought there have thrived. When I went to water I was surprised and excited to see the new growth and them all looking wild and happy.  My office is unlike my house, where I have two children, two dogs, and two cats.  There’s decent light, but nothing like my office.  Bringing plants into my home is like a death sentence – a random succulent or ivy will survive, but that is only because they’re the sturdiest of plants and they are put far from the reaches of children or critters who may hurt them.

Last month I decided to bring these plants home.  I felt like I was sentencing them to death.  So, I found the best places in the house and hoped for the best – but expected the worst.  Surprisingly within a week, two of my plants from my office had grown new leaves.  How could that be possible? How could growth still happen when they’re being chomped by our newest puppy, didn’t have the best light, and just experienced a change in environment?  It was exciting to see and the lesson wasn’t lost on me.

Frequently with clients they come to therapy struggling with something in their life – there can be a lot of pain and suffering. Something doesn’t feel right. Often someone may feel stuck and unable to make the changes they want in their life.  However, I’ve found that even under these circumstances people can move through these difficulties and still grow!! Positive change can still happen even when we have the proverbial puppy chomping on us.  It’s truly incredibly and helps remind me in my own life that when things feel difficult that growth is still possible and will happen – just be patient, be curious and compassionate.

Safety

This is the 13th week that I’ve been providing sessions remotely.  Prior to that, I always provided it on an as needed basis.  For example, with clients with a sick kiddo at home, someone traveling for work, for a mom who could not get away completely from work and we had to do session during her lunch break, or for a client who felt so depressed that she could not leave the house.  This has been a completely new thing providing therapy services through a screen full time. In some ways, I feel fortunate that my clients adapted quickly, and that I was able to continue to provide support during such an uncertain time. But I miss the space that’s created when I’m sitting with my clients.  I miss my office, my plants, and being able to actually sit with someone. Doing these sessions from home, just feels different.  However, truly one of my favorite parts of doing remote work – meeting the fur family members of my clients.  I’ve loved seeing every cat, dog, even some baby raccoons that are being rehabilitated before going back into the wild.  These are animals that I hear so often about in session that I now get to meet.

As things open up more in Texas, clients ask when I plan to go back into the office.  I’ve always replied with I don’t know yet.  I’ve listened to other therapists argue that we must provide services and that we must do it in person.  Others strongly argue that it is incredibly risky for ourselves and for our clients to meet in person.  I thought that I could just look to someone else to help me to decide what would be best.  Tell me the right thing to do and I’ll do it. However it’s no that easy. It’s not straightforward. Like most things I found that I had to sit, and think, even feel some discomfort in order to decide what works best for me and my practice.

I began to realize that right now, today, if I sat in a room with someone, I would wonder if I was potentially getting  them sick or if I could get sick and pass it to someone else in my life.  My thought is, that this fear would be an undercurrent of our sessions and that potentially the safety that is so important in my therapeutic work would be challenged by this.  As a relational therapist, I try to root the foundation of my work in the relationship established between me and my client.  Along with my client, I strive to create a strong, collaborative and secure relationship. Unfortunately right now, with the risk of transmission of COVID-19, for me that very safety is compromised.  Yes, I could wear a mask and ask my clients to do the same, but I just don’t have eyes that can communicate emotions well, and I wonder what that would be like if my clients couldn’t see what I was feeling.

However, by continuing to do sessions by video I sit closer to my clients than I ever have in the office where we can both share an emotional experience. I can see them and they can see me.  We’re able to rely on the already established relationship from previously meeting face to face, and I hope that sometime soon we can meet again in my office.  For now, I’m here and look forward to seeing you, even remotely.

 

Uncertainty

It’s been almost 4 weeks since the news of Covid-19 got very real for me –  SXSW had been cancelled, the NBA suspended the remainder of their season, and the Moontower Comedy festival was postponed.  Also, a couple of days later my kids school closed a day early for Spring Break.  We had planned to go to Mexico for Spring Break, but quickly realized that this shouldn’t happened and we rescheduled out trip for July, although we still feel like that may not happen.  Everything felt, and still feels incredibly uncertain.

As a social worker, I remember past work and life experiences where I’ve had to stay calm and been able to help others manage with personal disasters or natural disasters.  Covid-19 has felt and continues to feel different. I spend so much of my work with others talking about vulnerability and the importance of being genuine and honest with oneself.  However, how was I ever going to be able to support my clients if I felt so uncertain and was experiencing the full human experiences of feeling every single damn emotion – including sheer terror at 3p every day.

Fortunately, I had already planned to be out of the office the week of Spring Break so that gave me some time to sit with what I was feeling and to plan to move all my sessions remote.  As I emailed my clients about this change, I felt an incredible amount of anxiety and responsibility.  How was I supposed to encourage my clients to honor what they are feeling when this was something that was proving to be so difficult for me.

It’s been two weeks now since I began offering sessions via a variety of different platforms.  I’ve been searching to find the best one that offers the most privacy, provides the least number of glitches, and is easy to use.  I haven’t found it yet. I also have 4 different pairs of headphones next to my computer and keep cycling through them to try to figure out the best ones to use.  It’s been hard – but it’s been so good to be able to see my clients.  I’ve been more real with my own experiences through this and shared how vulnerable this situation is in session.

My pup, Randy, during one of my sessions last week

As a relational therapist, I am able to lean into the relationships that have been established meeting face-to-face.  It feels good and I’ve been able to connect with clients in a new way.  By helping others meet their own uncertainties with compassion, it reminds me to be brave and to do the same.  There is no right answer right now and everything is so completely uncertain.  We have no idea how far we have to go, how long we will be a part from one another, and how far our economy will fall as the employment rate plummets.  It reminds me of previous work that I did with disaster response.  Typically, our response was after the disaster subsided but Covid-19 feels like we are still in the middle of a hurricane. We haven’t even hit the eye of the storm for some respite.

Right now, we need to provide compassion to ourselves as everything keeps swirling dangerously around us.  This is terrifying.  This hurts.  This is almost too painful and feels unbearable at times, as we don’t know if we can continue to go on.  But imagine in the same way if you’re holding a small child with a broken arm – we cannot make that pain go away, but we can hold that child with compassion and love during the pain, we can comfort.  My hope is that we can all do that for ourselves in this moment and that soon we will be able to meet again.