The name reflects something I have come to believe is at the heart of much of the work we do in therapy: finding a greater sense of steadiness, clarity, and inner peace, even when life around us continues to change.
The phrase comes from T. S. Eliot's Four Quartets, where he describes a still point at the center of a turning world, the quiet place around which all movement gathers. I love that the image doesn't ask the world to stop turning. The still point isn't an escape from movement. It's the center that makes moving through it possible.
A still point is not a life without difficulty or uncertainty. It's a place within ourselves from which we can meet those things with greater calm and intention.
Life keeps moving. We change countries, careers, and roles. Children grow up and leave home. Plans that once fit stop fitting. I know this firsthand from years of living between the United States, China, Hong Kong, and Singapore, and from coming home again. Change like that can be disorienting, and it helps enormously to find solid ground within yourself when the ground outside keeps shifting.
That steadier place is what our work together aims to find. From there, decisions get clearer. You start to hear your own voice again, and to trust it. Therapy at its best isn't about someone else telling you which way to go. It's about finding your center, so you can choose your direction yourself.