My client was apprehensive about questioning the things in her art room. It was as if her stuff had taken over the room, and occasionally allowed her in as a visitor as long as she didn't make a fuss.
Her voice was timid and quiet. We shrink when we are scared. As if we are about to be hurt. It's a protective stance.
But the thing is, it was HER room, in HER house. She owned the deed. It belonged to her. The stuff were inanimate things in her home that she had once placed there. It was her right to pick these same things up and remove them from her home.
But she forgot, just like we all do.
So I asked her things like, "Does this thing make you happy?" and "If we weren't working right now, would you like to use this?" and "If this were food at a restaurant, would you order and eat it?" I wanted to hear what she liked and didn't like. I wanted her to hear this too.
And she did.
As she did, her voice got stronger. She surprised herself with the ability to say what mattered to her and what didn't. She began to fill the space as she removed things she didn't care for.