The morning sun hasn’t fully warmed the balcony, but Poonam Malpani is already there with a glass of warm water in one hand, her other hand brushing over the leaves of her favourite money plant. “This is my grounding,” she says. “A glass of warm water and a few minutes with my plants.”
In India, where therapists are often seen as endlessly calm and composed, it’s easy to forget that therapists are humans who bring their own baggage. People see the calm in therapy rooms, but behind that is a quiet discipline.
A routine built with rituals for self-care. Because when your job is to hold space for others, you must first create space for yourself.
To understand this invisible part of their jobs, we sat down with Poonam Malpani, a clinical psychologist and founder of Pace to Peace, got a glimpse of her day, and learnt what it takes her to show up for others with care and clarity.
The morning rituals: Filling her own cup before others
Poonam begins her day with stillness.
The glass of warm water and time with her plants set the tone for that stillness. This moment of connection with nature, with herself, is therapeutic, before stepping into the emotionally demanding work of therapy.
This is followed by breakfast. Non-negotiable. “Because being hungry makes you angry”, she quips, adding that it is also the time when she mentally maps out her day ahead.
Sessions with space to breathe
After finishing light household chores, Poonam steps into her workspace. She sees 2–3 clients on a typical weekday, with intentional pauses before and after each one.
Five minutes before a session, she revisits notes from the last meeting. It helps her prepare. After the session, five minutes are allocated to reflect and jot down key takeaways. Once that’s done, she consciously shifts back to “home mode” to be just Poonam, the wife, the mother, the person, and not the therapist.
During this time away from sessions, she tends to household chores, takes a short walk, spends time with family, or simply retreats into a quiet break.
Once the sessions for the day are over, evenings are for winding down with her partner and her son. The mandatory ritual is walking, her daily dose of fresh air. Nights end with reading, partly for upskilling, partly for leisure.
Weekends look a little different and slower, though. And that’s intentional. Tea, a hot breakfast, conversations with her partner, and playtime with her child create a softer pace. If needed, she takes sessions, but on her terms. “I try to listen to my energy levels. Sometimes weekends are lighter, and that’s when I focus on upskilling or hobbies. Podcasts are my favorite companions. Ten Percent Happier by Dan Harris and Unlocking Us by Brené Brown are brilliant.”
The emotional cost of being a therapist
For Poonam, a structured yet flexible routine is the key to keeping the work purposeful and not overwhelming.
But of course, not all days are simple; it’s not black and white. In her job, compassion is a default requirement, and the consequence of it on some days is compassion fatigue.
“Compassion fatigue is real. And some client stories linger in your mind even after the session is done. It affects how I show up for my loved ones. That’s when I lean into grounding rituals, similar to what I suggest to my clients. Walking under the sky, cooking mindfully, journaling to empty the mind.”
For therapists, self-care isn’t indulgent. It’s survival. And the hardest part of the job? Sometimes, therapizing emotions instead of feeling them. That’s when she asks herself, is she being the therapist or the real Poonam? The line blurs sometimes, which is okay on some days. It’s bound to happen.
The lessons learnt
When Poonam mentions the client stories, she also remembers the ones that stay with her for good. Especially the ones that push her to learn more about the layers of Indian society and the impact they have on mental health. She says, “In India, the collision of rapid urbanization with deep-rooted cultural expectations is intense. Clients are often torn between pleasing parents and pursuing passion, between societal norms and personal freedom.”
In all these cases, what has stayed with her most is not just the instances but the creativity with which some of her clients have shown resilience. The client who unlearned toxic parenting. The one who set their first boundary. The woman who chose self-care despite ‘log kya kahenge.’
“These are tiny revolutions,” she admits, with a sense of pride in her voice. “And also reminders of how we are all a work in progress.”
And that’s what Poonam has to say to aspiring therapists, too.
“This profession is fulfilling, and it will humble you. But it will also reshape you. You’ll doubt yourself. You’ll grow. You’ll feel like you’re failing. But that’s not failure, it’s part of the work. Let yourself evolve. Be open to learning. Know your limits. And know that you don’t have to fix people, just walk with them, with presence and kindness. The more you learn, the more you realize how much you don’t know. But that’s also the beauty of it. You’re forever evolving, just like the people you serve.”
It’s been a long day, but as she steps out for her evening walk, Poonam knows this is just how kindness begins: with herself. To start with presence and to end with presence.
After all, that’s what clients love the most about therapists: their gift of presence. The next time you go to therapy, think of how hard your therapist works to give you that presence.
