Letting Go While Holding Space

I made the difficult decision this week to let go of my office and I’ve been surprised by how this has affected me. It feels like a loss. It feels like I’m giving up. It feels like I failed. Just look at how I even worded that first sentence – I had to “let go,” as if I were tightly holding on to something that wasn’t meant for me.

The pandemic and months of being in quarantine are bound to bring up feelings of loss and mourning. It may open up old wounds that you thought were healed or magnify new stress or hurt. I can see that the sadness I feel about choosing to no longer rent an office space, isn’t really about the office itself.

The sadness is a reflection of the meaning I’ve attached to this space. Renting this office was the beginning of my journey as a private practice owner. I painted the walls and ceiling, decorated with some of my favorite photos and items. I brightened it with flowers and enjoyed the view out my window. I held space for clients in their most vulnerable moments and shared in moments of laughter and silliness. I have fond memories of each person that helped me bring this space together and supported me on this journey. This office holds a deep significance and a special place in my heart.

The only photo that somewhat shows my office space

But these four walls aren’t the only place where I can create all of the beauty that I experienced in my office.

Teletherapy has been a surprisingly great experience. I feel like I can be just as present and attuned to my clients on our video chats as I was when we met in person. Teletherapy doesn’t change my ability to hold space for them in their sadness, anger, anxiety, or joy.

So no, I’m not really losing anything. I’m not giving up. And I definitely didn’t fail. I made a conscious, well-thought-out decision to no longer pay for an office that I’m not using. I made the decision that although plenty of therapists out there continue or start to see clients in person, I am going to continue with teletherapy. I made the decision to not give into my desire for comfort based on old habits and to continue with this new (to me) and equally effective method of providing therapy.

The day after giving my notice about my office, I woke up with anxiety. I started to doubt myself and thought about all of the therapists that continue with in-person sessions, the businesses that have opened up in my state, and worried if clients would even want to continue with virtual appointments. I noticed how these anxious thoughts started to trigger a physical response in the middle of my morning walk.

Then I realized, just because other people are doing it, doesn’t mean that it’s okay.

It’s the perfect mantra to apply to so many things in life. If it doesn’t align with you when you block out the noise and turn inward, then why do it? Doing the things that align with you, helps you to find greater trust in your decision-making abilities, regardless of what the rest of the world is doing.

In-person sessions in the time of COVID-19 just does not align with me right now. Finding acceptance in that fact helps to decrease my anxiety about it. Standing firm and trusting my own ability to make appropriate decisions for myself and my business definitely offer a confidence boost.

With Intern Banksy in our teletherapy space

Luckily, I have come across more therapists this week who are validating my feelings about things. They are also choosing to keep themselves and their clients (and by extension all the family, friends, and strangers that they each interact with) safe by choosing to continue with teletherapy. My hope is that insurance companies will see the value in this and continue to reimburse my fellow colleagues for this safe and effective method of conducting therapy. One of the difficult aspects of this pandemic has been our need to let go of certain comforts in order to keep our communities safe. I’m choosing to grow comfortable in the discomfort of something new, like teletherapy.

Letting go of my office space can still mean creating and holding space for myself and those around me.