You settle in your seat, wiggling to find the most comfortable position, "Sweet! What am I in the mood for? I wonder if she'd be cool if I got one of those blueberry scones too..."
B.
Your back goes up, the crick in your neck aching: "Ugh. Now I'm going to owe her. I should have just stopped and ordered before sitting down."
C.
You go still, the better to hear yourself think, "Hmm, interesting. I wonder why she would offer to treat me. Is she trying to one up me or endear herself to me?"
D.
Your heart begins to race, "That's so sweet of her, but she really doesn't have to do this- oh no! Maybe I should have offered to treat her! Should I offer to buy pastries to go with our coffees?"
3.
All right, enough of that internal stuff - what do you want me to get you to drink?
The - actually, you know what? It's kind of complicated - just tell the barista that it's for you...
You're kind of a regular here - it's basically your second office.
The Cold Brew with sweet cream on top - you like it when things pack a surprising punch.
Your calendar has been overbooked this week, you could use the caffeine.
The Cortado - you like your caffeine like your people, direct and no fluff.
You're not sure how long you want this coffee date to go, so the smaller the drink the better.
4.
When I come back with our drinks, I break the ice: "So, what 'psychological great' would you totally be okay with chucking out the canon?" What's your response?
Don't tell your grad school professors, but Irvin Yalom.
He falls on the self-involved spectrum of self-disclosure (potentially ruining it for the rest of us)
Obviously, Sigmund Freud. Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar, but when it comes to Freud and his adherents, you find them to be more committed to upholding the status quo than discovering a new way to live and be in the world.
5.
Your answer cracks me up. Honestly, I have days I'd be happy to ditch all of them. I gotta know more about who you are as a therapist: "What therapeutic intervention would be considered your signature clinical move?"
The 'Hold My Beer' Instillation of Hope: you hold the possibility of more for all you work with, envisioning a future that is markedly different from the here and now - even when there seems to be no hope to be found.
B.
The Neutral (When Needed) Affect: shit doesn't shock you, you can hang in there with even the most excruciatingly painful of lives lived.
C.
The Fine Art of Self-Disclosure: your lived experience is an invaluable resource, one that you share with the precision of a surgeon.
D.
The Non-Boring Mindfulness Exercise: you've been known to jazz up a good old body scan with a dash of IFS parts work, distracting the inner and anxious critic so your client can gain insight while also experiencing relief.
6.
I take a sip of my drink, and thinking about who I can refer to you, I ask, "Who are the clients that just eat up what you have to offer? AKA, your how-the-hell-do-I-get-paid-to-do-this kind of clients?
The endlessly curious who aren't entirely sure why they're in therapy, except they have a thirst to understand themselves and those around them with depth and clarity.
You revel in stretching out their insight to discover all the shadowed places of their whip smart mind and tender heart.
B.
"The good girls and boys" who struggle with perfectionism and are convinced unless they do and be all the things, then they'll always get left behind.
You love helping them warm up to the realization that rather than too much or not enough, they're exactly right, just as they are.
C.
Wary of mental health professionals (and authority figures as a whole). Wicked sense of humor. Pro at masking their true selves. Skeptical underneath it all that they're not actually a terrible, shitty person.
You delight in showing the prickly ones that they're actually the best kind of people - inquisitive, bright, and truth tellers in a world that prefers lies.
D.
Honestly, No one. I'm hella overbooked too. But in case I have a rare opening in the future, my people are vivacious poets at heart who are committed to healing generational trauma and decolonizing their bodies, minds and souls.
Send me revolutionaries, or refer them to someone else.
7.
My eyes light up, strategizing silently on how I'm going to help you, "Tell me more - where are you in your business-building journey?"
"I'm just getting started, but I'm pretty ambitious. I want to invest in the long game from the jump, you know?
But also to start making money sooner rather than later. Because if I don't then working for someone else will be my past, present, and future."
B.
"To be honest, I really want to do more than just 1:1 work, but it feels vital to get my practice dialed in before venturing into the land of 'passive income.'
I don't want to leave my clients behind, I love clinical work, but I want more for myself too."
C.
"This feels vulnerable, and kind of like humble bragging, but hell, I'll just say it:
I have a vital message to share with more than just the people I see in my practice alone. The problem isn't what I want to do, it's how to do it without burning all the way out."
D.
"It's hard to put into words. I know that I want more than I have right now.
I know that sounds like a cop out, but if I don't get another client soon, I don't know if I can keep this up. I feel scared that I made a bad decision going out on my own."
8.
I grab my phone so I can take notes, "All right, let's miracle question this shit - if I were magic and could give you what you need AND want, what would you ask for?"
Hmm. It feels complicated to answer, but to be honest, I have all the things I thought I needed and wanted in my practice, and yet, it feels like it could all go away overnight.
I wish I could revel in my success rather than fearing that failure is waiting for me just around the corner.
B.
Wow. That's such a good question. Honestly, I wish I could work less - not just less hours, but not feel like I have to work so hard in session and in all the practice building stuff.
I wish I had more ease and more financial freedom.
C.
Shit. We'd be here for hours if I really could tell you what'd I do with all your magic. An easier question would have been what don't I want?
To stop playing so small. I'm ready to grow beyond my fears and to do more than just my 1:1 work. I want more, even when I'm not exactly sure what the more is.
D.
Hell. That's simple. A caseload of clients who get me, a bank account that doesn't mock me, and never having to go on a networking date again (unless, you know, I want to).
I need security, but not at the expense of my integrity.
9.
I glance at my watch and realize I gotta go in order to make it back in time for my next client. What question are you so glad I DIDN'T ask you?
"What is it you're really wanting in your practice?"
(Ugh. Who knows. Survival seems like a lame answer, and probably too vulnerable for a coffee date. And honestly, the answer hiding behind survival feels a hell of a lot more murky).
"Tell me more about your marketing! What's been working for you?"
(Does nonchalant avoidance and railing against manipulative marketing practices count as marketing work? Because if so, you're killing it).
"So what's next for you and your business?"
(Cue the scrambling to look like a competent business person, even when you haven't the foggiest what you want to do next, just how you want it to feel).
"So where can I check you out online to learn more about your practice?"
(You've seen my website and you shudder at the thought of me seeing yours. Even imagining me asking to see more of your stuff cues the razor sharp butterflies in your stomach).
