In therapy, dreams are one of the most useful things we have. Not because there is a master decoder ring that translates symbols into fixed meanings, and not because the therapist can tell a client what their dream is and what they should do with it. Dreams matter because they offer a launching pad, an entry point into something that is already moving underneath the surface of a person's life, often before it can be put into words.

A common concern about telehealth therapy is whether the work can go as deep on a screen, or over a phone, as it would in a room. It's a fair question. Most of us carry an image of therapy as two people in a quiet office, with the sense of having entered a particular kind of space set apart from the rest of life. Telehealth seems, at first, to remove all of that. What I've found is that less is removed than people expect. Some things are, though, and both pieces are worth acknowledging.

As a therapist, I'm always attuned to patterns—how we grow, how we connect, and how we respond to challenge. Recently, I participated in the MS150, a 150-mile charity bike ride that supports research and care for those living with multiple sclerosis.