Therapists & Their Offices

I recently attended a small meeting of therapists interested in creativity. We met in the office of one of us, a studio-like setting rich with media, materials, light, and a wonderful view. It was perfect for the kind of work she does, and the clients interested in working with her. At one point, our conversation meandered to the topic of our therapy offices: what we choose to display, how we decorate our spaces, and how clients sometimes respond to what they find. We also talked about what our spaces convey about us.

Some therapists personalize their spaces extensively, either deliberately (or unintentionally) communicating who they are, creating spaces in which they feel comfortable and at home. Others strive for a studied neutrality that doesn’t impose too much of themselves, decoratively or otherwise, in keeping with the neutral stance many find effective and necessary as therapists.

When our offices declare too loudly who we are as therapists and people, does it crowd out the client? Conversely, if our offices seem too impersonal, does it hinder the client’s ability to personalize us? In either extreme, the office environment can potentially interfere with the client’s ability to settle into the space, and the therapeutic relationship, comfortably. And while comfort isn’t necessarily the point of therapy, it can provide a good place to start, especially given the anxieties that often arise in the work, for therapist and client both.

A few years ago, Sebastian Zimmerman, a practicing psychiatrist and photographer, published Fifty Shrinks, a collection of photos and essays documenting the offices of a selection of psychotherapists and psychoanalysts in New York City. While certainly not a balanced cross-section of practitioners from a wide range of helping professions, it’s a fascinating portrait of a particular slice of professional life. The photos (and I’ve only seen a few, not the entire book) are psychological portraits of the inner and outer lives of these therapists. They remind us that our offices function this way, too.

So the next time you walk into your office, try to see it anew. Ask yourself what that picture, knick-knack, rug, chair, lamp, etc. might communicate to your client. And whether it matters.