That's the word my T used, transitioning. Now our sessions are like 80% transition, 20% session. Okay, not really, but we don't skimp on hello goodbye (mum never kissed or hugged me goodbye when she left for work, she didn't want to mess up her lipstick, and I was yucky, full of spaghetti sauce at the dinner table, she didn't want to soil her white uniform). I wear a watch and it seems I always look at it when there are exactly 10 minutes left, but he likes to say when it's time to stop - I guess it defines who keeps it safe, who makes the rules, whose room is it anyway? I had no rules, no good authority growing up, just stupid unreasonable restrictions, so I try to soak it in, in a positive way.