The Unseen Costs of Holding Space
Psychologically speaking, every session leaves a facilitator with something to process. Sometimes, it’s the weight of shared grief. Other times, it’s the anger that rises when a client speaks of injustice, or the quiet sorrow of watching this system wear down some of the kindest, most big-hearted souls.
Session prep isn’t just delicious tea, calming aromas, a clean space, or a well-curated playlist. (P.S. I spend at least an hour to clean my space before a day of sessions.) It’s also energetic preparation: the small, intentional details that make a space feel healing and sacred. It’s the financial, emotional, and mental investment in ongoing training. Not forgetting other administrative and creative work involved, and the mindful effort poured into creating digital content that doesn’t just inform but resonates.
Even though I naturally gravitate toward trauma and healing-related materials, I often underestimate how much they take out of me. Without a mentor from the beginning, I learned many things the hard way. And even with one, some lessons can only be discovered through discomfort and direct experience. No one can hand you your why or tell you how to build your unique practice.
The inner work required of a facilitator is rarely spoken about with the depth it truly deserves (and writing this makes me wonder why is that?).
Because of the way I choose to practice, session extensions are often inevitable and necessary. While I’m deeply heartened to see my clients leave lighter and thrive in their own lives, these sessions often come at the cost of my daily rhythm and having predictable schedules. Follow-up messages aren’t just casual check-ins either. They’re replied with care, time, and a lot of energy as I tend to share recommendations and resources too. As a recovering fixer and people-pleaser with a splash of imposter syndrome, I’ve often found myself overextending to make sure clients feel truly held.
At the start, three sessions a day would wipe me out. My capacity for fun, let alone joy shrank. I had less time and energy for my loved ones. I gave up things I used to love—anything too stimulating or taxing on my nervous system which included my favorite coffee, matcha, cacao, and even physical activities that once felt good.
Coming into this work without formal therapeutic training, I underestimated the toll it would take. I had to adapt quick. My own healing got fast-tracked, whether I was ready or not. My nervous system was often pushed to its edge, requiring me to double or even triple down on self-care just to hold space with integrity.
The last 1.5 years have felt like a living embodiment of Tarot cards like The Tower, Justice, and Death. Anything misaligned with the higher truth or the highest good crumbled. Awakening moments were often followed by deep, dark nights of the soul. And all of this was happening while working a 4-day-a-week full-time job, witnessing my dad’s health steadily decline, and standing at a crossroads in my marriage more than once.
Facilitating for others doesn’t just open the door to their pain. It mirrors my own. It exposes blind spots. It challenges my beliefs and the parts of me I’ve repressed and denied. My clients, through their stories and our interactions, often reflect back my own unhealed patterns. It’s humbling. It’s confronting. And it constantly reminds me of where I still need support, integration, and healing.
If I’m honest, “fun” is the last word I’d use to describe being a Spinal Energetics facilitator—at least for now.
Like every therapist needs a therapist, I too invest in services and support to stay grounded and resourced. So before assuming healing work should be priced a certain way or that my rates are “too much”—I gently invite you to reflect: What are you comparing it to?
The invisible costs of this work are vast, and often misunderstood. This work is undervalued not because it lacks worth—but because it isn’t widely understood.
After doing some deep inquiry around self-worth and value, I’ve stopped offering discounts to attract or retain clients. I no longer bend to social media algorithms or trends just to be seen. I know the value I bring. I honour it.
And to my dear clients—thank you. For your trust, your vulnerability, your referrals, your words of appreciation, and your presence. For taking the leap, even when you felt unsure. You are seen and deeply appreciated.
xx,
Cindy
