His bell rang. He requested I accompany him downstairs. Hitherto, the only time anyone left my physical consulting room, and often with an unnecessary flurry of apologies, was to visit the loo. All things change! It might sound incredulous but alongside the superficial phenomena we achieved, after he returned to bed, some insightful work on his cast of adversarial internal ancestors. Work which was mutually affecting. Zoom or not, interruptions included, we are still excavating deeper and deeper into the hinterlands of his psyche. And that is all that matters.
One of the consequences to my practice as a result of Zoom sessions is what I call ‘the democratisation of therapy’. While I still have ultimate control, or responsibility for the ethics of the relationship, its boundaries, and for maintaining a consistent backdrop for myself, I no longer know where I will be received. The patient decides not only in which room they will conduct therapy but to what degree they will allow the session to be interrupted by external events. I nearly laughed out loud when someone’s response was: ‘Hold on one tick.’