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Reader, You know what doesn't get measured in CEUs? Presence:
None of those things show up neatly on a certificate. And yet, they shape so much of what happens in the therapy room. Don't get me wrong. I believe in continuing education. I love learning, and I'll probably keep taking trainings for the rest of my career. But I've also been wondering what happens when continuing education becomes less about deepening our practice and more about soothing our professional anxiety. This field often teaches us to chase mastery. Learn more. Buy more. Do more. It's a deeply consumerist response to a profession that already leaves many of us feeling like we are never enough. Because if we're always one training away from becoming the therapist we're supposed to be, someone will always have something else to sell us. Of course new modalities can expand our thinking. But so does learning to trust what cannot be packaged quite so easily:
The ability to tolerate uncertainty instead of rushing toward certainty. The humility to recognize that our clients also bring knowledge into the room, and that healing has never belonged exclusively to professional expertise. You are not a walking certificate. And I don't think your clients need a perfectly trained therapist nearly as much as they need a therapist who is present enough to meet them where they are. Sometimes I wonder whether we've become so accustomed to measuring what can be counted that we've stopped honoring what can only be experienced. Or who knows... maybe one of these days we'll give presence a nice academic name, create a fidelity checklist to make sure we're doing it "correctly," develop a certification pathway, and offer it as a 12-CEU training. And maybe I'd sign up for it... So I'm curious: What part of your practice has made you a better therapist that no certificate could ever capture? Hit reply... I do want to know! I may not always respond immediately, but I do read and genuinely appreciate the reflections you share with me. With liberatory care, Silvana Liberatory Letters | The Practice of Liberation | Decolonize Your Practice PS. What to expect: We’ll protect our energy: Details: Investment: PPS. ⬆️ Let's connect! |
I help therapists, healers, and space-holders bring decolonial and liberatory values into their work—so you’re not just saying you’re aligned… you’re actually practicing it. ⬆️ More integrity, more connection, more liberation. ⬇️ Less burnout, less performative wokeness, less colonial residue. If you want a practice where marginalized clients feel safe, seen, and honored—and you want to feel more grounded and intentional in your work—subscribe and join a growing community of practitioners doing this work differently. You practice can be liberatory-- let's get you there!
Reader, A quick update on what I'm working on: ❤️🩹 a field guide is coming... it will help you assess the conditions that actually help clients heal and stop feeling like you have to be everything for you clients.Read more about it in the PS section or sign up for the waitlist here. Can I call myself an ally? An accomplice? A co-conspirator? This question seems to come up again and again in liberatory spaces, and I have a somewhat uncomfortable answer: we don’t get to decide. Not because...
Reader, A quick update on what's here: 🌻 Community Liberation Sessions. The last meeting of the year is next week. Sign up here. 🔥 The Practice of Liberation. Monthly personal reflections of liberatory work beyond professional practice went out this last Monday. Read more about it in the PS section or subscribe here. Last week I invited you to question whose ethics we practice. That conversation began with one of the very first questions ever submitted in Community Liberation Sessions: “Is it...
August 2026 | issue #10 Reader, The very first time I was diagnosed with depression, I was in my early twenties.My therapist told me I had what was then called endogenous depression. “We don’t really know why,” she said, “but some people are simply more prone to it.” She treated me using CBT. For a while, I believed that story. I believed there was something inside me—my brain, my genes, my chemistry—that made me fundamentally more susceptible to depression than other people. Don’t get me...