As winter slowly ceases and makes room for the possibility of Spring, a sense of hope grows for many. I have seen the struggle during the Chicagoland winter. The absence of sunlight, green grass and the baron trees can leave a person feeling the cold, too deeply as if we too have lost our color and vibrance.
Despite the annual pilgrimage of a cold winter, the majority of people still seem to hibernate November through March. A forced isolation pervades even the most sociable person’s existence and for those who are not so naturally outgoing, the winter can be lonely.
Seasonal affective disorder is a common form of depression that manifests over winter due to the reduced hours of daylight and disruption to the circadian rhythm within the body. Depression can deepen and a sense of sadness can be cast over them.
You might say the last few years of covid made every season feel a little like winter. For different but equally powerful reasons, we have been isolated, prevented from having the natural amount of human contact and connection. And now after these long two years of covid we have winter to exasperate the sense of isolation. So, what can you do if this describes you?
You reach out for support; you go and get therapy.
As an intern at a local therapy office, I showed up on day one full of anticipation and expecting what I had always found at therapy offices. A clinical waiting room with matching hospital chairs and an ill matching coffee table. Some old out of date Readers Digests and last year’s celebrity gossip magazines. Just enough comfort offered to keep you there while you wait for your appointment but not one touch of comfort over this.
So, when I walked into Torus Therapy, I was shocked. The second you walk in the front door you meet a feeling of home. You see comfortable chairs mindfully placed in a large welcoming space. The patterns on the chairs are eclectic and cheery. The gentle lighting makes you forget you are in a therapy office. The tranquil sounds of water trickling down a fountain and abundance of plants evoke a feeling of a life that has been quietly existing that you now want to be a part of. It makes you feel a sense of peace that is both disarming and unexpected. You feel like you are visiting your close friend or family member. The body tension you didn’t know you were holding, releases and you feel grounded and at peace. And you haven’t even started your session yet.
But the therapy has already started.
There is a cozy kitchen to the left, with a cheerful collection of mugs, teas and a large selection of snacks. I ask myself, “really this is for everyone?” and again challenge the expectation that clients will quickly usher into a room, to sit in another uncomfortable hospital style chair before trying to relax enough to authentically share their reason for being there.
I see a cheerful woman walk in to be received by numerous hugs, she is given a cup of herbal tea and engages in happy conversation with other staff. It wasn’t until later that day that I discovered she was a client. She seemed so genuinely comfortable in the setting, as she carried herself as belonging here, because she does.
Then I witnessed this connection over and over and I realized…
Torus Therapy and its founder Jamie Kruse, have created something completely unique and wonderfully on point for what people need now more than ever, connection.
Clients that come here quickly learn that they have joined a family. Many enter the practice in hope of finding somewhere to talk about their loneliness and pain as they can’t find a place to belong or feel a part of a community. Desperately searching for an antidote to the isolation. What they didn’t expect was to find Torus is so much more than therapy. It could offer somewhere to heal that sense of being alone.
You are offered a village and a base to belong.
Jamie through her own journey was able to witness that traditional therapy can be complemented by other healing modalities. But having to seek other modalities out during a time of duress, is a heavy burden and difficult to cultivate when you are already struggling. So Jamie created a canopy of healing under one roof.
At Torus you can receive therapeutic yoga, reiki, sound baths, healing circles, book clubs, boundary workshops, woman’s circles, and massage. There are so many different ways that Torus opens its doors and offers its open hands to offer connections. Staff here and with other open minded people from the community who seek that same warmth and sense of love and belonging, all the practitioners at Torus share different healing gifts yet they seem to share something special. They share a gentle nonjudgmental presence and welcoming aura that makes you feel like you are coming back. Each visit is a celebration and as clients arrive they sense their importance to us and feel seen and loved.
I feel like it’s a well-kept secret at the moment. I want to call in those who need us, who sit with a sense of longing and a thirst for connection, to come in to Torus Therapy on 117 Flinn Street Batavia.
Give us a call. Let us welcome you into our healing family, you already belong here, and we already love you.
Written by: Shelley Russell, Master’s in Social Work Intern & Intake Coordinator