I spent the day at a conference with panels and panels of renowned experts examining the nature of psychotherapy. These people have devoted their careers to understanding the process through which psychotherapy works. Yet, the discussion was leaving me bored and uninspired. At some point, a student-in-training asked the panelists what advice they would give to a new therapist and they gave good answers about being courageous to learn and make mistakes while in training. I chimed in, but in my usual stupid way, by saying I felt unhappy with the conference today. Taking my foot out of my mouth, I elaborated that I was unhappy because it felt like the conversation was sterilizing something that was so profound. I told her that what I would want a new therapist to know is that they could look forward to experiencing some of the most touching and moving moments two human beings can share; that people will allow her into sacred spaces of communion, earnestness, vulnerability and sincerity that will leave her shimmering with gratitude for life in all its complex horrible beauty; that we should be training therapist not just to be comfortable with fear and anxiety but to really learn to cultivate the intention of inviting these moments of profound communion and do so in a way that is professional, “boundaried,” does no harm, and yet starkly human. We should teach new therapists about what an honor it is to hold such space for another human being and how miraculous it is to see that such space heals. …At least that’s how I keep returning to my therapist’s chair day after day.