I’m often asked why I call myself the Interior Design Shrink. I explain by saying that “I do the work of the therapist with the tools of the interior designer”. The parallels have never been lost on me when I am being invited into a person’s home, their sacred inner sanctum, and they are allowing themselves to be vulnerable, as they drop their public personas and job titles to show me who they truly are.

My job, plain and simple, is to get to the root of issues and problem solve. In order for me to do that job well, I need to really understand the lives of my clients. I need to step into the details of their daily routines, to know their likes and dislikes, to become fluent in what they are trying to communicate about themselves, and to find the places they feel satisfied or unsatisfied. I couldn’t have the level of insight needed to help people if I didn’t ask a lot of questions.

I have always been very sensitive to energy, whether in people, objects or space. On many occasions I have excused myself from a place (or declined entering all together) because the energy felt dark and oppressive, and on several occasions, has even made me feel sick. I have seen so many people living in energetically stale or un-cleared homes and wondering why things always seem in such tumult, why they have mental fog, why their kids have attention disorders and why they often feel so down. Even our beloved little pets can feel the effects of a home that’s carrying too much of a negative load. Left unattended, toxic and negative energies can build up leaving us with our own little Chernobyls.

On a recent day of quarantine monotony, an architect friend of mind suggested we get out of our home studios for a change of scenery. Fortunately for us both, looking at houses is a favored past time and one that isn’t hampered by a mask and 6’ of social distancing. As we toured quaint streets, garths and mewses in 2 of the cities most beautiful neighborhoods, I found myself looking at each unique home and doing the mental equivalent of swiping left when determining if I could see myself living there or not. Too big, too small, too much work, too close to neighbors, and some that would have been just right. It occurred to me that many of the same skills used to find the perfect mate are the same skills we can use to find the perfect home.

I’ve been watching some wonderful Architectural Digest design videos lately trying to shake up my Netflix quarantine binge cycles. One series highlights the set design details that went into shows like The Brady Bunch and Mad Men. It’s been really fascinating to see how societal, cultural, and economic changes impacted the styling, layout and function of the home. In recent decades it has been technology, and our relationship to it, that’s most influenced home design. Our devices and apps have made it possible to touch base with home while we spent so much of our time away from it.

Anybody that knows me well, knows I am a purging machine and sheltering in place has given me an opportunity to do yet another deep dive into every room, closet and drawer in my home. In the last 3 decades I have given away enough furniture, art, décor, clothing and accessories to furnish a department store. This month, an SUV filled to the brim with old clothing, never used kitchen gadgets and appliances (why do I have an espresso maker when I don’t even like coffee?) made their way to the donation center. What a wonderful way to lose 75 lbs. instantly!

I recently checked in with some realtor friends of mine with the presumption that their businesses had been greatly impacted by the Covid-19 shutdowns. To my surprise, they both reported an unexpected spike in people inquiring about homes on the market. Perhaps, with less competition from other buyers, there would be more time to take weigh the pros and cons of the place they might one day call home.

I know we’re all getting a bit tired of the “Q-word”, but even as restrictions are slowly lifting, many of us are still sheltering in place and in a limbo state. Throughout all of this, we have been asked to spend extended time in the environments we have created for ourselves. For some, their homes have provided steady comfort and solace in the face of so much upheaval. For others, the experience has heightened their un-ease, as they’re not able to feel any sense of soothing from the place that surrounds them. For me personally, I have felt intense gratitude that all the physical and energetic work I have put into the space I call home has come back to take such good care of me now.