“Therapy can be that kind of pause—a moment to observe, to regulate, to realign with ourselves amid the motion of life. Whether we’re moving with the current or against it, healing happens through awareness, connection, and courage to keep paddling forward—together.”

Dressing up can unlock aspects of the psyche that are often hidden in daily life. When we put on a costume, we invite permission—to explore archetypes, emotions, and identities we may have disowned or suppressed. In therapy, this process can help people connect with “split-off” parts of the self: the confident one, the sensual one, the fierce protector, the child who still wants to play. Costume Therapy allows these parts to be safely expressed, witnessed, and integrated.

There are times when the ordinary rhythm of therapy—a single session each week—doesn’t feel like enough. Pain presses in too closely, questions weigh too heavily, or change feels just out of reach. For those moments, we offer Intensive Treatment Sessions: extended spaces of time devoted wholly to you, where the usual boundaries of the therapy hour soften, and we can wander further into the heart of what you’re carrying.

Over the past few years, much of life has moved behind a screen. We work over Zoom, catch up with friends in text threads, and even get medical care through video appointments. While this shift has made some things more accessible, it has also left many people feeling disconnected, overstimulated, and strangely alone. It’s no surprise that so many of us are craving something more real—something grounded, embodied, and human.

Sometimes when a client is feeling stuck—or when I am perhaps feeling stuck with a client—I think about parts work. 

The term “parts work” comes from a modality of therapy called Internal Family Systems, or IFS.

By setting boundaries, engaging in meaningful discussions, taking action, prioritizing self-care, and seeking support, you can navigate turbulent times with resilience. Remember, maintaining your mental health isn’t just beneficial for you—it also enables you to be a more thoughtful and effective participant in the world around you.

A group member recently talked about weathering "storms of the heart", and I loved that image. In line with its metaphor, our DBT group tracks the emotional weather of the week and helps members batten down the hatches for impending rain.

I think back on how fundamentally my personhood feels changed since I was first forced to grieve, now over a decade ago. A couple weeks into navigating grief, I remember coming across a quote by Jamie Anderson: “Grief, I’ve learned, it really just love. It’s all the love you want to give, but cannot. The more you loved someone, the more you grieve. Grief is just love with no place to go.” When I first read it, it hit me like a rock, even though it is so seemingly simple at its core. I think of the many lessons this misplaced love has taught me— and continues to teach me— as time inevitably passes.

Within the therapeutic realm, the concept of folie à deux emerges as a delicate thread, binding patient and therapist in a shared journey through the labyrinth of the mind. Here, amidst the delicate interplay of shared delusions, intimate truths are revealed, and the boundaries between reality and illusion blur. In Murakami’s narrative tapestries, characters navigate complex relationships and surreal scenarios, mirroring the intricate dance of the therapeutic process.

In the quiet hum of the morning, as sunlight filters through curtains and gently touches every nook, I ponder the curious kinship between our homes and bodies. Both, it seems, are sanctuaries where the essence of our being unfolds.

In Rogers’ (1980) own words, “[the potatoes] would never become plants, never mature, never fulfill their real potential. But under the most adverse circumstances, they were striving to become. Life would not give up, even if it could not flourish.” Rogers extended this potato analogy to people's growth and self-actualization.