I used to have a psychotherapy office on 40th Street in Manhattan, at the bottom of Times Square. It wasn’t my first location choice for a therapy office, but the rent was right for my needs. Over time it grew on me and I became accustomed to the grunginess of it while appreciating the feel of the crowded noisy streets in contrast with my quiet, yet warehouse-like office in the back of the building.

Many days I would go outside to grab a coffee around 3pm to break up the day and get ready for evening clients. As you might imagine, there were several places to choose from; Starbucks, Gregory’s, The Boulangerie, Paris Bakery, Au Bon Pain, and of course, a smattering of delis.

My favorite place was a deli across the street. Modest, clean and basically no different from any of the other delis in the area, except for the man making the coffee. He was an Asian man, perhaps in his 60’s; a little older than the other folks I usually see behind a deli counter. I would present the same order each time; “Hi-small regular with half a sugar, thanks”. He knew the New York slang and from my frequent visits probably knew what I was going to say as soon as he saw me. He would quietly turn around, make the coffee, carefully wrap a napkin around the cup, and hand it to me with two hands. I would take it with two hands, as I have learned that this is a gesture of common respect and politeness in Korean culture. But then, something incredible would happen. He would bow to me.

The first time he did it, I was shocked and felt a little giddy and embarrassed…talking to myself all the way back to my office. What do I do with this? Should I bow back? That’s weird, because I’m some American white lady. Would that be insulting to him? Why is he bowing? It’s just coffee!

But there was a feeling inside me- underneath the “should” of my intercultural etiquette conundrum, and beyond the embarrassment…I felt a warmth and a respect in my body. The coffee somehow tasted better than other coffee in the area, and I felt a sense of peace and wholeness that was both strange and familiar. My mind was racing, while my body felt so seen- so connected to this beautiful human being at the deli.

Each time I would go back, I planned to bow back, but several times chickened out. My intellect jumped in again, and said something like, “He probably does that with everybody out of habit,” and “It would just be weird for you to bow when it’s not in your culture’s gestural vernacular!”

I gave up trying and enjoyed his bow each time, feeling good about myself and started to leave a tip to compensate for my American sheepishness; “He was working, for goodness’ sake! This is his job! Leave a tip!” my guilt would say.
One day, I went in, ordered the coffee, received the cup, napkin, bow, and without thinking I bowed back. Immediately I felt this rush of incredible honor and respect for this man, and for his life. We were not strangers anymore – we were two people acknowledging a shared existence with an unspoken reverence that was meaningful.

In returning respect to him, I felt as if I received again. That was fourteen years ago. Today I often find myself bowing to clients as they leave the office; not an intentional movement until I am in mid-bow, my body reminds me of what it means to show respect and actionable acknowledgement to another person. I enjoy seeing their reaction; some look embarrassed, some smile…and sometimes, every once in awhile…someone bows back.

One day I was riding the subway. It was the end of the day, and I was exhausted and starving. I stood, barely hanging onto the pole in the middle of the car, desperate to sit down, and dreaming about what I was going to eat when I got home at the end of my 20 minute car ride. There was an incredibly obese man sitting down, and taking up two seats, and I watched as he devoured several bags of chips. One after another, they continually emerged from his enormous sweatshirt, and flowed into his mouth without a hiccup; the empty bags flowing equally form his mouth back into his sweatshirt pocket. He must have eaten about five bags of chips while my weary (hungry) ass stood watching.

Somehow, I saw his “heart” and my entire experience was different than it could have been. I could have been angry, and judge him for his body size that took up two seats (one of which I could have been sitting in). I could have judged the way that he ate horrific food, and didn’t take care of himself, or that he was violating the “no food and drink” rule on the subway. I could have been jealous that he got to eat while I was still so hungry, since I would have eaten my own arm if I could at that point. Instead, I saw his heart, and began to indulge in what I saw as his enjoyment of eating those chips. I fantasized about how great it would feel to have a great soft body that could simply take in all that salty greasy food, and how enjoyable it would be to eat five bags of chips at that moment.

Suddenly, he reached down into the bag that was between his legs on the floor, and pulled out a two-liter bottle of soda. I must have been staring at him, because it was then that I realized that he was looking straight at me. He smiled and said, “Those little bottles just aren’t enough for me.” I began to laugh, and he laughed, and we both just laughed together for a few minutes in the middle of a crowded New York City subway. Even as I write this, I can’t help but giggle. As he stood up to leave the subway car, he touched my shoulder and said, “You have a beautiful day, now, alright?”
I already was.

Give Yourself Time: We call it a therapy hour but it’s only 50 minutes. Get your money’s worth by arriving 10 minutes early to catch your breath, collect your thoughts and prepare for your session.

Business First: Take care of payment, scheduling and insurance questions at the start of the session. Nothing’s more awkward than ending a session with a big revelation or emotional breakthrough followed by three minutes of check writing and calendar navigation. Get all those logistical issues out of the way at the beginning.

Forget the Clock: Show up early, but let the therapist be in charge of ending the session on time. You’ve got enough to think about during the session, the therapist can be responsible for wrapping up.

Make it Part of Your Life: Therapy works best when you take what you’ve learned and apply it to the rest of your week. Between sessions, notice areas in your life you’d like to explore. Maybe you’d find it helpful to engage in…

Relationship Next: Following those business items, issues regarding the relationship with your therapist (if there are any) come next. This could be anything – you’re thinking about termination, you felt angry after the last session, you’re worried what she thinks of you, you had a dream about her, etc. These relationship issues take top priority because they will impact all other areas of your therapy.

Say the Odd Thought: Therapy is one place where strange thoughts are acceptable. In fact, the odder the better. Have a sudden impulse? Say it. Flash to a certain memory? Talk about it. The phrase some things are better left unsaid doesn’t apply here so speak freely and you might learn something interesting.

What do I Want? How do I Feel? These two questions are home base for clients who feel stuck. If you find yourself lost and don’t know what to talk about, revisit these questions and you’re bound to find material to discuss.

Go Deeper: If you find yourself running through mundane details of your week or hitting awkward silences, maybe there’s a deeper issue you’re avoiding. Ask what it is you’re not talking about and talk about it. Discuss what you’re discovering about yourself. Take the time to explore who you are, what you feel and why you do what you do. Push beyond it is what it is or whatever and tackle some deeper questions. Try: “I wonder why I ___” or: “Deep down, I really feel ___”.

Don’t Fear the End: From the beginning, talk about when you’ll know you’re ready to leave therapy. Rather than cut and run, let therapy be one experience of a truly good ending. All good endings help heal prior bad endings…and help you to create better endings in the future!

*Borrowed from Ryan Howes, 2010

Half of my decade as a professional dancer was spent with an aerial dance company. Setting my body into a trapeze and
dancing with other bodies, balancing, catching, holding each others weight, I’ve learned a lot about relationships.
Dancing in a trapeze takes a lot of work. As part of my choreography, I sat, nestled into the trap, sitting on the bar with my back on the rope, eyes closed, rocking to and forth in a performance. To the audience, I exhibited the image of a sleepy “lady in the moon,” who appeared to have not a care in the world. In reality, I was using only my shoulder blade to “grasp” the rope of the trapeze, breathing and balancing my own fear of falling at any part of the swing, with the absolute confidence in my present-moment embodied capability, as I let my hands languish beside me.

I had to trust myself that the strength that I had already cultivated over several years dancing could sustain the movement of my body in the trapeze.  I had to also trust that my dance partner, Janet, who was choreographed to climb up into the trap with me, could be aware enough of my body’s placement that she would not send me spiraling toward the ground. I had no choice but to trust or ruin the choreography. Using my feet as steps, She climbed into the trap with me and together we continued the dance in the air. Our awareness of each other was so keen, so respectful and present with each other that I could stretch myself out across the bar, legs extended, with only one hand holding the rope, and she, the tiny, 85 pound dancer could walk out onto my legs like a diving board without a hitch. Our energy and connection could maintain and fulfill not only our audience’s expectations, but also our own, as we performed our daring dance.

Like an emotional relationship, trust is the bottom line of the dance. Without it, one or both partners may go plummeting into a devastating disaster, landing in a pile of pain and confusion at the bottom. How does one trust, you ask? I suggest that it happens the same way that my dancing with Janet did: we practiced.

Practicing trust in a trapeze does not necessarily mean that I could simply place my physical well-being into Janet’s hands and simply “try it out.” Trust in a trapeze meant that I had to first cultivate trust in myself, know my own strength and resources so that I didn’t put too much pressure on her right away, and could ‘catch’ myself if I found that she was not strong enough at the moment, or not quick enough to intuit my movements to save me from a fall. If she missed, I didn’t scream at her or become angry because I was able to catch myself. In doing that, I was also able to give her a bit of leeway to “make mistakes.” By the way- this practice went both ways: I sometimes missed, and although I felt terrible about it, I also trusted that she could take care of herself.

This led to more daring pursuits, like the one I previously described. We didn’t just jump into the trap and she walking on my legs; we had to build to it. The practice took time, patience, mistakes, and sometimes some bruises. Some days we were miraculously attuned to each others’ movements. Some days we didn’t match. With persistence, however, we succeeded, and even surprised ourselves at what we could do. In the end, I know that only our two bodies could achieve the types of dances that we made. This is what made our work together all the more special.

As I embark on the great honor of being the first Guest Editor of the International Body Psychotherapy Journal, I am loudly reminded of the importance of being acknowledged. After receiving a multitude of submissions from authors asking, “Is my work good enough for your journal?” blasts as a parallel process to my own trepidation regarding my own ability to be a judge of their work.
Thankfully, I have been a university professor for five years now and have learned how to read first draft submissions. Many times I have watched a very proud and perhaps, at times, entitled student strut to my desk and thrust a paper toward me with expanded chest with matching smirk, expecting me to thank them for doing the assignment. I graciously accept the paper (so long as it is not late), and sit down on the train or at home to grade it. Sometimes a fabulous assignment is written, but most times, they are full of personal statements and opinions that leave me wondering if they have even read the instructions for the assignment.
After five years, I know that there are no bad papers. Poorly done, sure, but aside from the rubric, each student is giving me the best of what he or she could do at the time. This includes the last minute, hung-over student who couldn’t find a staple to hold the paper together. Each gesture tells me something about the student, and even though I have to give a grade (I take off a point for missing staples), the papers tell me so much about who they are and where they are at in their learning. I give them feedback according to where they are in their academic process.
I once had a student who sent me a 35 page “section” of a 10 page paper. As I began to read, I became more and more confused; the words were misspelled, grammar was atrocious, and the ideas jumped from place to place as if being chased by bees. In addition, the student would suddenly change the format of her paper, start a paragraph from the middle of the page, or insert a poem after half of a sentence. The most shocking was when she would change the color of her text!
After two hours, I arrived at page 3, exhausted. I had to find another way. I sat back, and asked myself, “What is this student trying to tell me?” Instead of continuing to decipher the grammar, (which would have taken me weeks), I realized that this student needed to express herself nonverbally. I asked her about her background, and not surprisingly she was a dancer. I asked her to include a dance in her final project to identify the themes of her research inquiry. Months later, at the end of the semester, she brought a video to my office and we watched it together. I was moved and astounded by the beauty and exquisiteness of her movement. By the end of the dance, I was filled with tears of pride! Writing was not how this student was going to move through the world. Her medium was dance, and in her choreography was the most articulate, profound, and insightful expression that I had ever seen in a student at her academic level.

Seeing each student, each author for who they are, and not needing to judge is part of how I conduct therapy with my clients. It never helps to judge; neither me nor for my client to judge her/himself. Acknowledging each facet of each client is, in itself, a process of healing, despite how my client is self-judging.
Acknowledgement in therapy is practically half the work. Being present with an experience, an emotion or lack thereof, or even something that feels so shameful that it cannot be spoken, is a part of healing. As I acknowledge my clients’ experiences, I help them to acknowledge themselves. This is where the healing begins. As I embark on the great honor of being the first Guest Editor of the International Body Psychotherapy Journal, I am loudly reminded of the importance of being acknowledged. After receiving a multitude of submissions from authors asking, “Is my work good enough for your journal?” blasts as a parallel process to my own trepidation regarding my own ability to be a judge of their work.

When folks talk about self-awareness, what do they actually mean? Often times it’s a response of “Oh, that’s just how I am,” or “Oh, that’s just me.” On the contrary, self-awareness is the ability to understand oneself in the current moment, just as you are and not how you think you should be!

Conceptual self-awareness is an idea of who you are; kind of like seeing yourself on a screen of a movie, or from the outside-in. It’s often  metaphoric- something that you can compare yourself with: “I’m like a wave; I just come and go with the flow…” or “I’m generally a happy/shy/angry person.”  Unfortunately, using metaphor can also allow judgments to arise, and often does not quite allow you to describe the things about you that make you unique (because you are likening yourself with something that is not you!)

Embodied self-awareness, on the other hand is not so vague. Bringing attention to your sensorial experience in the present moment, you might discover something different, rather than “like” and find that there is more to you than a comparison to something else…something that is more true to who you are.

For instance, meeting with a client who always entered the room with a bright and cheerful disposition, I was curious if she was aware of the way that she caved her chest in while she smiled. One day she sat down and, I felt my own smile “sticking” on my face. I asked her how she was doing, and with her big open grin, said, “Great!” while continuing to talk about the events of the week.

Something didn’t feel right to me, and I noticed that there was a smile that was stuck to my own face. I asked her to check in with her cheeks. Touching her cheeks, she said that she noticed that her face hurt right at the “apples” of them. I asked her to stay with the feeling of the pain for a moment, and within seconds, she began to weep. This was followed by anger. She said that she remembered how her mother always expected her to be a “nice girl” and smile for everyone in her family. She said that she felt angry about this, and a whole flood of emotions emitted from her- including fear. She realized that she had been living her life as a “happy person” to the outside world, while feeling sadness, anger and fear that she did not allow herself to experience until that session.

By checking in with her embodied experience, she was able to understand a deeper level of her experience; as she talked about her week, something very important was going on in her body that informed her of how she relates to people in the world.

Self awareness is also different from self consciousness.

We all know what self-consciousness is like. We contract, either emotionally or physically, and try to hide. Shameful feelings are at the surface, and those we are in contact with do not get to see who we are. Self awareness, on the other hand, is what happens when you allow yourself to celebrate who you are; live fully embodied and present in each moment. You become kinder, both to yourself and to others. You reach out, rather than contract, and, well…laugh a whole lot more.

“It’s like I don’t care so much about things that used to bother me!” Another client recently said to me. “I’ve stopped fighting with my fiancé. I don’t feel victimized anymore, because I feel like I really know myself now and can trust my own intuitions and judgments. Oh, and I’m not judging myself so much!”

Self awareness, through embodied practice can change the way you live in your skin, and the way that you live in the world with others. For more information about how to feel better inside yourself, make an appointment for somatic psychotherapy! It’s not what you think!

Hello! Welcome to my blog. I hope you find the information here helpful. I have dedicated this blog to honoring past clients (anonymously, of course!) and helping current and future clients to make the most out of their experiences in therapy with me.

For starters, I’d like to offer some tips for new clients who are searching for a therapist. First and foremost: be picky! If you are really going to commit to the therapeutic process, you want to make sure that you are comfortable with the person sitting across from you. Here are some other tips for starting therapy:

• The first time you meet with a therapist, you will probably feel nervous. This is normal! You are embarking on a new adventure, and not knowing what to expect, so anxiety is normal. However, letting it keep you from attending your first session can keep you in the loophole of suffering. Give me a call and tell me that you are nervous. Maybe one more phone connection will help you to make the first shift. This is probably the toughest part of therapy, and perhaps is a great way to start your first conversation once you arrive.
• Just like exercise keeps the body in shape, weekly therapy sessions keep your mind in shape! Pick a time and day that you can commit to. We have a circadian rhythm that helps us to manage our energy. Choosing a regular time and day to meet with increase your progress while you develop your skills in self-care.
• Ask questions! This is your session, and you have a right to ask whatever you wish. Your therapist will answer questions that are pertinent to your healing.
• Just like all other services, policies are in place to help make the services run smoothly. Personally, I require a 24 hour cancellation, or my client is responsible for the fee for the session. An advanced cancellation is also courteous to other clients in the practice so that they can schedule a last-minute session if needed. This includes you, too, if it you ever need one! Likewise, payment is due at the time of the session. Please be prepared, with your payment, as it will be one less thing to think about during the session.

So! This is a start. Check back soon, (or subscribe to the rss feed) to see some more tips on how to use your therapy time most effectively!