The Importance of Presence

This week, on my week off, I did a few things that felt uncomfortable. I travelled to a new city by myself, I met people I hadn’t spent much time with before, and I spent a considerable amount of time alone. I visited bookstores and an art gallery, had brunch alone, and walked for miles. I loved all of these things.

Years ago, I would never have taken a trip of this sort; I’ve always been a person who avoids feeling uncomfortable at all costs. Interestingly, this avoidance of the uncomfortable has not manifested much in my clinical work; I am okay with uncomfortableness with my clients and with holding space for their feelings of discomfort; it’s my own that has often felt unbearable.

In Manchester, I attended a talk by the lovely Elizebeth Gilbert, who spoke of the world’s obsession with being purpose-driven and the anxiety associated with that. The modern world tells us that we need to leave our mark on it, that we need to have meaning in our lives, and that we need to find our passion and use it and ultimately monetise it. This concept has created an anxiety-riddled world where if we are not doing or achieving all of the time, then we are seen as less than or as wasting our one previous life.

Elizabeth said that the opposite of this idea was presence, being present in ourselves, in our bodies, in our relationships and the world. That night, when I showed, I took the time to feel the warmth of the water and how it felt upon my skin, the slight, silky bubbles from the citrusy shower gel, the tiles beneath my feet, the steam, you get the picture. It was a beautiful experience, if not slightly uncomfortable at times.

Maladaptive anxiety is a way of giving us the illusion that we are in control when, in fact, we have little to no control over anything. All we have is the present moment. Present moment, perfect moment.

Now, much of this is not new, but I could hear it differently this time; it sat differently within me and opened something which I will continue to think about.

Learning to sit with the not-knowing and uncertainty is a vital part of therapy, too. It’s an essential service I believe we need to provide for our clients, and with the anxiety it may bring. As always, we need to do the work ourselves, which, to me, is essential.

My clinical presence is something I reflect on often, as it is the foundation of my practice and of my part in the building of the therapeutic relationship. I want to be present to all that my clients bring and that starts with being present to myself, no matter how uncomfortable.

I am writing this on the train back to London, so many of my thoughts are still unprocessed. What I bring back with me is that first feeling of the sun's warmth on my face, for the first time after a long and cold winter. My head is tilted up to receive it, and there is a slight worry that it may burn, but it also feels promising.