Room to Grow

A few months ago, the building I office in was put up for sale. And then my plants started to die.

I had this beautiful snake plant that moved with me through several offices over the course of my counseling career so far. It even flowered a few times — I didn't even know they did that. And just like that, I watched it wither away.

I got curious about the symbolism of a plant dying in the middle of what already felt like uncertain times with the building. As I dug into what was happening at the root, I found out it simply needed more space. It had gotten overcrowded, and it withered. And I wondered — am I too needing more space? Expansion?

This year has been full of that. Trying new things. I launched my first self-run class, Art as Medicine, and felt my soul expand. Gathering others around therapeutic art has been a vision of mine for a long time — it's always been part of my story, part of what drew me to being a therapist and a healer. Over six sessions, I found myself expanding, right along with my art supplies and my ideas.

When I first started Gray Lotus Counseling, it was a step toward myself. At the time, it felt like I'd jumped off a cruise ship — which happened to be an established group practice. I remember telling people it felt like going from a ship to a canoe in the ocean. It was scary, but it was the right kind of scary — the kind that helps you find your center and learn to trust yourself.

And it was in that canoe that I came across a floating village of sorts — other therapists out there on their own, and we banded together. That's how the Collective was born. We need people for this work. Through years of meeting monthly, playing together, supporting each other, we started dreaming of sharing a space. Of linking arms in a different way. I even wrote it down as my number one intention for the year. 

So, back to my plants dying. Things were shifting. The house that I have loved went up for sale, and I felt the wind of change coming toward me. It felt uncertain and yet I felt a deep peace. Then several of the women in the Collective started noticing similar things happening in their own spaces — gas leaks, rising rent, dreams spoken out loud — and we began exploring what it might look like to actually share space together.

There's more to that story, but for now, this is the announcement: WE FOUND A SPACE. And this is my last week meeting in my current office. 

So here starts a new chapter — one of banding together and supporting each other in closer proximity. All of us running our own practices, but linking arms and sharing space. It feels like ancient wisdom. When women come together, powerful things happen. 

I was reminded this week, during a workout class, that shaking is part of growth and change in the body. Nothing to be ashamed of. So here I go — walking forward, shaking a little, and ready for the change.

I'll be moving my couch and my disco ball into a new space. A space with big windows that made me cry, and hopefully, lots of new plants. Room for the medicine we need — including connection, and art, of course.

So cheers to the next chapter, and to learning new things. And goodbye to the best little office I could have asked for — the one that caught me during turbulent times. I will forever love you and all your character. No one will ever know all the stories, the tears, the laughter, and sometimes the burning of papers that held ex-boyfriends and grief. And spilled coffee. Thank you for holding me, and so many others.

This charming house was the birthplace of Gray Lotus Counseling. AND as I've had to say out loud — it is not Gray Lotus Counseling. Sometimes you have to leave a good thing in order to grow.