As I offer therapy online, many highly mobile and displaced individuals naturally drift into my practice.
We meet in a couchless space unattached to any physical location
We meet in a couchless space unattached to any physical location, or rather suspended in between the two places—my office perched below the Parisian rooftops and the often-fluid, ever-changing locations of my fidgety clients.
Sometimes they connect for our sessions from a hotel room. I always pay attention to my client’s surrounding—and when an unfamiliar background sparks my curiosity, I naturally inquire into this new place, and we spend some time locating ourselves. The client might tell me about the country or town they are currently in, about this particular hotel or the area.
These “hotel sessions” tend to bring up “a sense of discomfort that resembles lostness—a feeling of displacement, of not-quite-being there,” in the striking words of a wandering writer Anna Badkhen. As a displaced person myself (I grew up in Russia but now live in France), I can easily relate to this feeling, and every time I notice an anonymous hotel room behind my client’s back, my heart sinks in recognition.