I’m finally able to write this article because it’s been a while since I’ve had a client who has shown up with a shaky phone in their car, a park, or with headphones on at a dark corner of their workplace. I don’t want any one person to think that this article is about them because it’s not—it’s about a phenomenon that I’ve noticed. And I get a lot of clients in cars, in parks, and in workplace storage rooms.

When a client is in a car, a park, or at their job, it signals something sometimes but not always. What it signals is that this client is not choosing to consult with an astrologer from home.

Doesn’t that seem simple? What the hell am I writing an entire article about clients who aren’t home during a session for?

Not everyone is safe enough to get an astrology reading at home. Not everyone feels safe enough to get therapy or to even talk to a friend on the phone at home. Sometimes it is an issue of physical or emotional safety. Other times, it’s the busyness of home. Home is where you take care of your aunt who shares your bed, where you are a mother, or where you’re expected to keep the kitchen clean.

I do have to say—none of the clients in their cars, at a park, or in a closet, so far, have been men. That isn’t to say that men cannot feel uncomfortable at home or that they cannot feel unsafe in general. But most of my clients who show up to meet me on Zoom in either a car or a closet have not been men.

And there’s the ones who are at home, who feel the need to move outdoors suddenly during a session. There’s the ones who stop mid-sentence and ask either to type something or to change the subject temporarily.

I rent a room of my own. I can basically talk about whatever I want in here. None of my roommates are going to open my door once I have closed it. But I’ve been there too. I’ve been in places where I can’t talk at home.

Of course it affects the session. Apart from the technical difficulties of noise and whatnot, which can be overcome if you’re relentless and creative enough, it affects an astrological session when you talk with a client who cannot feel safe enough to talk at home. Whatever is at home, whether that is a spouse or parent or a newborn child, is almost always a subject of conversation.

When I see that a client is in a car or closet or park, I brace myself. I get ready for the possibility that whatever is at home will come up during the session. It sends a signal to me when the safest space that a client can find to talk is loud, bustling with people, and exposed to strangers. It used to frustrate me, because of the sound and connection issues, before I realized why people were doing it.

Sometimes, the issue of whatever is at home is central to the session. People organize the session so that they are able to talk freely about what is at home while not at home. Other times, it’s circumstantial. People want to talk about their friendships or imagination projects and they also live with a parent who needs to sleep during the day. Sometimes, it’s the biggest issue in someone’s life and other times it’s not. So, I never ask someone why they’re not at home even if I do note it.

I like doing client work virtually for this reason. Don’t get me wrong—there’s physical empathy that can only happen when you’re together in the same room and I’m glad that I learned how to consult with people locally. But there’s the access as well. There’s the ability for folks to get sessions when they’re on the clock at work or on a long drive home. Virtual sessions mean that people who want to get a reading but who cannot show up to another location are able to get sessions. It means that people who want to keep the session secret can get sessions. You see a client in the rhythm of their life.

So, here’s to clients who show up in their cars and closets and malls. I know what it’s like to be you. And it’s okay. If we have connection issues on Zoom, we can make a phone call instead. If we have to talk while you’re driving, that’s okay. If we have to pretend that you’re on a work call, that’s okay too.