Years ago I arrived at my therapist’s office a bit early. It was cold outside so I waited in the hallway to her home, far away from the therapy room. After our session she informed me that from then on I was to please not come inside until my appointment time, not pull my car into the parking lot till the person before me had left. She wanted her patients to have their privacy. On one hand, I understood—no one wants to be “outed” for seeking help without their permission. On the other hand—was it bad to seek help working through our issues? Were we supposed to feel embarrassed and to skulk around? To not smile or at least nod if we happened to cross paths? This predicament, privacy v. publicly, was irrelevant for my old office. It had a secluded entrance and, since I scheduled time between sessions to write my chart notes, clients rarely crossed paths. Then my lease expired and I had to move. Suddenly, as I looked at possible offices, the privacy v. publicly issue wasn’t irrelevant anymore.

 As I was looking for a new space, coincidentally, so was my Pilates teacher. For years we had discussed how sharing a space would mutually support our complementary practices and our clients. This was the opportunity to find a space together. Now we’ve been in the new space for a year.

My office is in a private treatment room in a corner of her Pilates studio. While the Craniosacral sessions remain private, my clients may walk past Pilates in progress, single and/or group sessions and may see and be seen by other people. I also practice Pilates at the studio. People may see me clumsy and struggling to follow the should-be-graceful movements of Pilates. I may even be in a Pilates class with a cranial client of mine. Part of me is embarrassed and wishes I could skulk away. But I strive to hold my head up proudly while practicing Pilates. It is only through practicing Pilates that I will improve. I believe being open and accepting our own flaws is an essential step to growing through them.

Whether you believe we are all imperfect beings, or all perfect as we are—we’re all in the same boat (love those water analogies). We all have our strengths, failings, flashes of ugly and moments of beauty and compassion. Letting go of judgement frees up vast caches of energy. Accepting imperfections; our own and other people’s gives us the space and the grace to experiment and explore our own unique way forward. The irony! Exposing our imperfections opens the path to better mental, physical and spiritual health.

Thank you