Working from Home

I was doing a video appt. with a client this morning, we were ten minutes into the session and my doorbell buzzed (almost never happens during work hours). Two rings. Two more rings. A minute later, it buzzes again. I knew who it was: the bookshelf delivery that wasn’t supposed to be here for another week! But here it was. It would’ve taken 30 seconds to open the door, let them know where to put the boxes, shut the door to my office and continue the session. Did I feel a pull toward the door, a tug? Yes. Did I feel conflicted? Yes. But 100% I knew there was no way I would interrupt the session for something mundane. If the kitchen smoke detector was shrieking, I’d run there. But for this? I had zero doubt that I was going to stay and sit with my client, 100% all in. This is the beauty of tele-therapy: though I’m at home, our time together is ‘office sacrosanct.’ I love creating a safe and complete space—we’re diving into what’s important to you without distraction. Whether we’re meeting in person or video or doing a phone call, the time and space is sacred. It’s inviolable. I will not violate the sanctity of the emotional resonance. This sounds woo-woo. But it’s my truth: when I’m sitting with my client, our exchange and experience, our mutuality is the only Reality. Nothing else is worthy. It’s literally everything. Every second matters. It’s seminal and the silences between sentences speak. Every moment is liminal. I cannot drop the moment. As a thought experiment, let’s imagine I had said to my client, “Can you please excuse me for a second while I open the door, and I’ll extend the session by a couple of minutes?” My client would’ve likely said “Sure, no problem.” But the delicate moment would’ve been broken, interrupted, a kink in the emotional movements, the conversational process. A break in our connection.  Unless my client is brutally honest and hyper-aware of her inner world, she might never tell me the effect on her—and I will never know. I will have broken an implied trust: that I will be present for the entire duration of our time together.  I will not jeopardize our contract and my promise. From the first second until the last, I enter my client’s world till the door shuts behind us—whether it’s the physical door of my office, or in the case of tele-therapy, we click the X red “end call” button.” Through the incessant doorbell ringing, I found myself locked-in, present, attuned, attentive: I gave my client a container as vibrant and rich as if we’d been in person with zero interruptions. What a marvel. I celebrate it 🙂