An image created by the author in tribute to Mark Hartshorn — the four parts of self.
In creating the title image, I considered each tile to represent a different aspect of myself: my mind, my body, my soul, and my emotions. Some days, the pieces fit together perfectly. On other days, they feel jagged, disjointed, and hard to reconcile.
Over the years, I’ve realised that we comprise these four elements, each playing a vital yet distinct role. The challenge is figuring out how to give them all space to breathe, interact, and support each other without letting one dominate the others.
We live in a world that heavily emphasises thinking. From our early education to our professional lives, we’re taught that logical thought, intellect, and rationality are the ultimate tools for navigating life. However, I don’t believe that this was always the case.
In contrast, there are cultures deeply rooted in spirituality, where the seeker, someone who connects with something beyond themselves, takes centre stage. These traditions value intuition and transcendence as pathways to understanding.
Similarly, some communities prioritise action, the doers who trust their bodies to lead the way. They value experience and physical engagement as the primary means of comprehending the world around them.
Emotions are universal, yet how we experience or express them varies widely. For some, feelings are the lens through which life is understood, and connections are made.
This isn’t about choosing one modality over another. Rather, it’s about recognising that each of these aspects
the feeler, the thinker, the action-taker, and the seeker
plays a crucial role in the fabric of who we are. Embracing all these dimensions allows us to navigate life more fully and authentically.
It’s Not a Battle
Have you ever read those personal growth articles that make it seem like your emotions are the enemy? The ones that tell you to “master” or “control” your emotions as if they were wild animals needing taming? It reminds me of the stoicism of Victorian Britain, where showing weakness was seen as a failure. But emotions are not a battle to be won. They’re not something to conquer. They are part of who we are, woven into the very essence of our being, linking us to generations past.
Image Created by the author
The Feeler
I used to think acknowledging my emotions meant giving them power over me, but I’ve learned that tuning into my feelings allows me to live more fully. Emotions are messengers, little whispers from my ancestors, reminding me of the long, shared human experience. By listening, I gain the benefit of choice. Ignoring them, on the other hand, only keeps me disconnected from an essential part of myself.
Grief, sadness, joy — they all come from the same place. If you can sit with your pain, you open the door to experiencing joy in a deeper, more meaningful way. It’s not always easy, but it’s worth it. Acknowledging the trauma in your life enables you to embrace life more completely in the present.
All images created by the author.
The Thinker
Rational thought has become a cornerstone of modern life. It’s what distinguishes humans from other species, right? But here’s the thing: while thinking can help us plan, strategise, and reflect, it can also lead to overanalysis, anxiety, and burnout. We’ve put too much weight on the mind, letting it dominate our decisions at the expense of the other parts of ourselves.
Mindfulness has taught me to observe my thoughts without letting them consume me. I’ve found that the most profound insights often come when I stop overthinking and simply experience life.
Image created by the author
The Action-Taker
The action-taker in me loves to get things done. It’s the part that thrives on energy, momentum, and progress. But there’s a trap here, too, one I fell into more times than I care to admit. In our productivity-driven culture, it’s easy to equate being busy with success. I used to think that I was falling behind if I wasn’t constantly moving forward.
What I’ve come to realise, though, is that even the strongest action-takers need rest. Athletes know this. Without proper recovery, their bodies can’t function at peak performance. In the same way, our drive and motivation need space to recharge. Action doesn’t always mean doing. Sometimes, the most significant progress happens when we allow ourselves to pause.
Image created by the author
The Seeker
And then there’s the seeker — the part of me that looks for meaning, purpose, and connection to something greater than myself. In a world focused on tangible successes and external validation, it’s easy to neglect the seeker. But I’ve found that I start to feel lost if I neglect nurturing this part of myself.
The seeker in me doesn’t always need answers. Often, it’s the questions themselves that matter. Why am I here? How can I contribute to something bigger than myself? Seeking isn’t about finding a destination; it’s about embracing the journey and understanding that searching for meaning is a lifelong process.
Image created by the author
Harmonising the Four
Balancing these four aspects
feeler, thinker, action-taker, seeker
is an ongoing process. It’s not about giving one more importance than the others; it’s about learning to let them all have a voice in my life.
When I feel overwhelmed by emotion, I remember the value of connection and expression. When I get lost in my thoughts, I remind myself that thinking is a tool, not a ruler. If I push myself too hard, I step back and give the action-taker a break. And when life feels empty or aimless, I listen to the seeker and allow myself time to explore, reflect, and reconnect.
Image created by the author
Practical Tips for Daily Balance
Start your day with intention: Ask yourself, How do I feel? Where is my energy today? Set a simple goal for which part of yourself needs attention.
Create space for reflection: Whether it’s five minutes of journaling, meditation, or simply sitting in silence, give yourself time to listen to what each part of you is saying.
Practice conscious action: When you take action, ask yourself, Is this aligned with my purpose? Or is it a reaction to external pressure?
Balance thinking with feeling: After a long day of mental activity, spend time reconnecting with your emotions. Whether through art, music, or conversation, let yourself feel.
You create harmony by bringing all these parts together.
mind, body, soul, and emotions
None of them need to be suppressed or overpowered. They all deserve to be seen and heard. And in that balance, true growth happens.
Image created by the author
All images here were created by me using both traditional and AI tools to bring these ideas to life visually. It’s a way to express the balance I’m constantly striving for between
creativity, logic, action, and reflection.
Which part of yourself needs the most attention today?
Reaching out Reaching in — A digital drawing by John Walter 2024
This is a digital painting I have recently created, which partly came from conversations with my therapist about the struggles and successes of my teenage to 20-year-old self.
It represents a significant shift in how I view those years and how I choose to live the rest of my life.
I was and still am a vibrant, colourful, creative being. In my youth, I embraced this in myself, but as shown in my drawing, I seemed to be reaching out into a bland and monochrome world.
There is a sense in the image that my other arm is being held back by some invisible force.
The balcony overlooks a vibrant world of playfulness and energy — a world I felt too afraid to enter. By not depicting anything beyond the balcony, I symbolized my reluctance to even acknowledge that world’s existence.
I know I don’t belong in the bland, monochrome world of conformity and compliance, but I also fear I will be rejected by the creative world because I am not familiar with its rules.
Therapy and creativity go hand in hand.
I discovered how closely linked my creativity and emotional healing are through therapy. This connection became clear in the creation of ‘Jack,’ an embodiment of my inner child, captured in the following image.
Jack is screaming at the thrill of being hit by a cold Atlantic wave. Jack has been a creative manifestation of my inner child for the last six years.
Jack and the Wave — A digital drawing by John Walter 2022
He emerged when a student counsellor was working with me and tentatively suggested we do some inner child work. Guided by her supervisor, we worked carefully over several weeks. We talked during the sessions, developing a number of characters representing parts of myself, and I drew images at home and tried to bring the characters to life.
To take the rational mind out of the process, I was asked to draw only with my non-dominant hand and not try to refine or process the images, just keep them raw. The focus was on the emergence of the inner child from the subconscious rather than any artistic aims.
Images arose of Jack, who lived on the beach and was free and wild, exploring rockpools and the limits and possibilities of his physical body.
The older teenager emerged on a balcony built into the cliff. He was trapped with no way out. He lived alone in a single room lined with books. He read about marvellous worlds and explored the creative world of the mind but would not stray beyond the confines of his balcony.
I began to see these two characters as parts of my authentic self. Both had difficulty connecting with societal expectations. They were strong-willed and protective of the freedoms they embraced but not so aware of the limitations they placed upon themselves by exercising those freedoms.
Societal expectations and Authenticity
As I reached secondary school age, societal expectations began to show up. I was expected to wear a uniform, sit still, and learn all the things I needed to know to get a job and be productive in this world.
My teenage self managed this by masking every day. For my teachers, I did my best to behave; I took on the things that interested me and daydreamed through the rest.
For my peers and family, I allowed my creative self to thrive. Drawing, reading, writing, and playing music were daily activities. They tolerated my obsessions with rock music, songwriting, obscure poetry, existentialist writing, intricate pop art, and art nouveau drawing.
This is how my authentic self managed to survive. Although my parents found it difficult to understand why I didn’t want to follow the path of stability and a steady career, they supported me in pursuing a creative life.
It is only very recently that I have been able to separate those two things. I had long believed I was an outsider in my family and school. Now I realise that school as an institution always leans towards compliance and conformity, and only some of us manage to escape its stranglehold and live creatively.
Rediscovering my creative voice.
I am 70 years old, and reclaiming my creative voice has been a long journey. It has not been linear. At times, I have been living a life I love, and then I can sink into periods of depression where all my creative juices seem to disappear.
There has been constant fluctuation between creative expression and productive employment. Sometimes linking, at others pulling against each other.
Image created by the author for this article.
After some major life traumas, I seemed to have settled into a period where creativity and productivity could coexist. Recognising the two parts of myself, as imagined above, has played a major part in this sense of stability without compromise.
Honouring my creative spirit.
Creativity is my self-care and therapy and part of expressing my authentic self. My adult functioning economically and socially in the world is also part of my authentic self.
I have learned that balancing the two has brought me the fulfilment I have sought and a deeper understanding of my whole self.
My Invitation
Do you feel your creative child and responsible adult are in balance? Is your path harmonious or filled with tension?
I invite you to creatively explore these aspects of yourself. Where might your journey lead?
See where it takes you. Maybe explore places you have been afraid of entering, Moving in ways that give you freedom even though that freedom may be accompanied by fear.
I would love to hear your responses to my journey and how they might resonate with you.
All images created by the author using traditional and AI tools.
I once made a seemingly irrational decision that puzzled everyone, myself included. It wasn’t thought through or premeditated, and there were no logical justifications, but it changed the course of my whole life.
The moment comes back to me on many occasions, particularly on my self-awareness journey through therapy. It was a peak experience, and I chose to step away. Why would I do that?
I have worked with several clients who cannot decide what they want to work on in therapy. I suddenly realised that what they needed to work on was obvious. They were unable to make decisions. They knew something was not right but had no idea what it was. Their body was screaming out to them to make a change, but they could not access what was causing them pain.
So, I will tell my story and see if it helps me to help them choose—to decide something for no reason, to choose because not making a choice consumes vast amounts of energy and keeps us in a place of stagnation.
Choosing to step away from my career as a musician.
I walked into the Green Room after the best gig of my life. I was playing a duo gig with someone who became an International star. An audience of over 1,000 people were still clapping us. I had been playing an exquisite Grand Piano, and Andy soared alongside me on tenor and soprano saxophones.
We danced through our set of spontaneous improvisations held together by pieces I had composed. I wallowed in the care, integrity and undivided attention Andy was giving me through the music. I recently attended one of his concerts with his European Trio, and I went straight back to that place, reliving those extraordinary feelings by observing him interact with his current musical collaborators.
My wife greeted me with glowing smiles, and we hugged around our one-year-old daughter, who was strapped to her front and sleeping peacefully. She poured a cup of chamomile tea from the silver Thermos, knowing I would need something to bring me down from the giddy heights I had been scaling.
We shared with her our mystical experience of feeling as though the audience was guiding us as if a greater creative force had swept through and was playing the music through us. She handed me a doorstep sandwich of some kind as if she were the only person on the planet who knew exactly what I needed at that point.
It was then that I made the decision. On the surface, I decided to stay with my wife and daughter and drink herb tea rather than ride this adrenalin wave and run around the City bars chasing further excitement. I can see it was much deeper than that from a distance of nearly forty years.
The Build-up
I left home at the age of 18 and went to London to become a Rock Star. It didn’t work out. I became obsessed with improvisation and jazz music, which was already declining as a popular art form. I found top London jazz musicians willing to give me piano lessons. I wallowed in the jazz scene, frequented clubs and pubs, and spent many nights at Ronnie Scott’s.
I worked in a 10-piece function band to earn some money from music. My relationships were a mess, and I was drinking too much. My soon-to-be wife rescued me from all this and drew me to Bristol.
I went back to University to train as a teacher, and I loved being part of the Bristol Jazz scene playing wine bars and hotels, teaching courses in jazz improvisation and helping set up a jazz club.
Eventually, I began teaching and started a family. Soon after that concert, I accepted a job in a residential therapeutic community for boys with serious behavioural difficulties. By accepting that job, with long hours, including evening and weekend work, I had made it impossible to continue any Jazz career.
The legacy
I eventually found my vocation in therapeutic work, although it took me on a roundabout route until I qualified as a psychotherapeutic Counsellor thirty-five years later.
Jazz composing and piano playing are still regular hobbies. Teaching music became my main career thread in many manifestations, and I have mostly been living the life I love.
At first, I felt resentment that I had given up on my jazz performing career, but I found creative ways to make a living from music that fit better with family life. Now, I have nothing but glowy, warm feelings about the way I have woven music into a stable career.
That night forty years ago, my heart was giddy with emotion and potential, yet I could listen to my inner voice. I embraced my intuition and ignored my excited, rational mind, which was screaming at me to go with Andy to meet promoters and soak up the praise and acknowledgement that was sure to come my way.
At the height of what could have been a bustling International music career, I chose the warmth and stability of family life. This decision, made in a heartbeat over herb tea and a comforting sandwich, was a pivotal moment defining my future.
It wasn’t just about choosing to stay physically present with my family that night; it was about choosing a life where I could continue to be emotionally present for my loved ones.
How Music and passion has driven my personal growth
Music never left my life. It transformed from my profession into a way of being in whatever I chose to do. In therapeutic work and teaching, I have deeply intertwined those principles I loved in music — Spontaneity, improvisation, sensitivity and unscripted connections with others.
Personal growth often requires us to forgo immediate rewards for deeper, more fulfilling sustenance.
Embracing the Intuitive Leap
It is not always easy to listen to your intuition and connect to that inner voice that whispers quietly behind the incredible racket of the rational thinking mind, but that moment of quiet reflection can shape your destiny as it did mine.
From that moment, I crafted a life rich with fulfilment and purpose, balancing passion with responsibility. If you stand at a crossroads, unsure of which path to take, weigh up the logical chattering of your mind and the whisperings of your heart. Sometimes, the best decisions we make are those we cannot explain. We cannot put our finger on the logical reason why, but we know we have been guided by our intuition.
Great leaders make smart decisions, even in difficult circumstances. From Albert Einstein to Oprah Winfrey, many top leaders ascribe their success to having followed their intuition. New research shows how going with our gut instincts can help guide us to faster, more accurate decisions
Life is unpredictable, and I hope my journey inspires you to ride those unpredictable waves spontaneously. Know that following the pathway that is yours exclusively, following unexplainable currents, and sometimes drifting in the unknown can lead to profound personal growth and unexpected happiness.
All images created by the author using a variety of editing and AI tools.
We live in a quick-fix culture, from fast food to having access to instant gratification of our sensory needs. Music, videos, and art are all becoming available at the touch of a button. Instant solutions to every need are prized above putting in the work to experience these things in greater depth.
One of my greatest pleasures is cooking a Sunday roast for my family. Occasionally, when time is very limited, I may get a takeaway from the local curry house. Both approaches to family mealtimes have their place, but cooking a Sunday roast has so many more layers of pleasure for me and is much more likely to create lasting memories.
As with the choice between fast or home-cooked food when it comes to mental health, quicker is not always better. Why bother with months of expensive therapy when you can get everything you need in six sessions? Some therapists even offer single-session treatment.
Looking at it from the perspective of fast vs. home-cooked food, you get a quick hunger fix that requires little effort or engagement with fast food, but the satisfaction is fleeting and often leaves you feeling unsatisfied in the long run. Similarly, short-term therapy might seem efficient, providing a quick fix to psychological issues, but it often only scratches the surface of deeper emotional needs.
In contrast, long-term therapy is like preparing a home-cooked meal — it takes more time and effort, but the process itself is deeply satisfying and nourishing, often leading to more profound self-awareness and lasting emotional well-being. Just as a home-cooked meal can foster connection and create cherished memories, long-term therapy offers a space to deeply explore and understand one’s life, building emotional resilience that sustains through all life’s challenges.
Where quick-fix therapy has its place
Some psychological needs only require a brief intervention, and plenty of approaches are available to meet that need. CBT, EMDR, Hypnotherapy, and others are great for addressing a single identifiable issue.
Like medicalised approaches, quick-fix therapy is about symptom management and does very little to avoid recurrence or deal with causes or deeply embedded emotional issues.
The deeper journey of long-term therapy
A wide range of therapeutic approaches could be described as “Depth Therapies” and it is impossible to list them all here. They largely fall under the umbrella of Psychodynamic, Humanistic and Holistic therapies. Behavioural approaches are mostly but not exclusively quick-fix.
In my Private Practice, I use an integrative approach, which means I have experience working with many modalities. As I work with a client, I bring in what they need. It is usually evident in the first session whether the presenting issues can be dealt with over a few weeks or whether many layers obscure deep underlying problems.
With agreement, we delve into all areas of an individual’s life history, their belief systems and how they began, their relationship patterns and a timeline of their emotional landscape.
Through this process, clients begin discovering the root causes of their psychological unease. We lay everything out, unearthing a long-buried overview of their life patterns. This process can facilitate transformational insights and enable the integration of complex emotions.
Client X (fictional) hadn’t left the house for three months. We worked over the phone for a year with no change in this presenting symptom of agoraphobia. It finally shifted through identifying undiagnosed autism, which gave a clear insight into their life choices, which had led to isolation and a solitary lifestyle. This transformational insight enabled the client to seek specific support and accommodations, eventually leading to re-entering the world of work and a richer social life.
Entering into a therapeutic relationship
The key element of most modern long-term therapy is the relationship you build with your therapist, and this will always take some time to develop. It is an essential element in the healing process for you to develop trust and feel safe to explore your innermost concerns without fear of judgment or criticism.
In long-term therapy, the counsellor slowly helps you build a psychological map of your inner world through the relationship. When you have developed an overview of your life-long patterns and emotional journey, you can work with your therapist to develop bespoke strategies to facilitate a transformation in the way you live your life.
One client used the metaphor of a spider web to describe how the relationship worked for them.
“When I arrived I was anxious about everything. I was only aware of a tiny section of the spider web where I sat cowering. If a leaf brushed past the web the whole thing would vibrate and I had no idea what it was causing the vibrations. I shrunk back further into a tiny limiting space. Over time in therapy I developed an overview of my whole life. I could see the whole web and how things interacted. The anxiety just disappeared by becoming aware of the causes.”
Sustainable Change and Personal Growth
The changes clients go through in long-term therapy are not predictable or the result of targeting specific issues. A sex addict may begin therapy thinking their addiction is the source of all their problems. Soon, they may become curious about why their obsession has diminished, but all the other issues in their life and relationships persist.
This realisation could prompt a much deeper dive into their underlying emotional landscape and past traumas. As they peel back the layers of their behaviours and motivations, they may discover that their addiction was merely a symptom of deeper unresolved conflicts. This exploration can lead them to confront painful memories and challenge entrenched beliefs about themselves and others, which have shaped their relationships and self-image for years.
In the safety of the therapeutic environment, they can begin to reframe their identity, moving away from seeing themselves solely as an addict and towards a more holistic view of themselves as a complex individual with unique strengths and vulnerabilities. This shift often brings about a profound transformation, not just in how they manage their addiction but in their overall approach to life and relationships.
This is the opportunity long-term therapy gives you. Changes made on a deep level will endure and evolve over time. You have not just managed some anxiety; you have set in process a phase of personal growth that is irreversible. Persistent depression is not just alleviated. You have opened up a doorway into self-awareness where you can make significant life choices more freely.
Making the choice for personal growth
If you view your challenge as a specific problem that needs solving, a short-term, targeted approach might be sufficient. However, if you recognize that, despite your best efforts, you are still limiting your own potential, exploring long-term therapy could offer substantial benefits.
What are you seeking — immediate relief, a profound transformation, or perhaps a blend of both? Do you envision yourself grappling with the same issues five years from now, or can you imagine a future where you are free from the constraints of your past? How do you balance the need for immediate results with the desire for deep, lasting change?
Remember, the first step on any journey is the most difficult. By taking that first step, your unique pathway will begin to reveal itself, leading you toward not just immediate solutions but sustainable, transformative growth.
How One Psychotherapist’s Self-Discovery of ADHD Challenges Conventional Diagnosis and Celebrates Neurodiversity
All Images created by the author using a variety of drawing, editing and AI tools.
Neurodiversity has only been a concept since the turn of the century and has been commonly used by professionals since 2010. This suggests that most education or mental health professionals have had to and, to a large degree, are still playing catch-up.
The only training they will have had will have been firmly rooted in the medical model of diagnosing autism, dyslexia, ADHD and other neurodevelopmental conditions in order to treat, cure or mitigate the symptoms.
The professions have had to make a massive shift in their thinking to embrace the neurodiversity model. As with any paradigm change, there will be dinosaurs and pioneers.
Some pioneers may have had their wings clipped by being taught by dinosaurs. Some major educational and mental health institutions are still controlled by dinosaurs, who may well temper the enthusiasm of new recruits flushed with pioneering spirit.
Before sharing my personal journey, I will outline a research conversation I had with ChatGPT, OpenAI’s language mode, which clarified how and when neurodiversity appeared as an idea. I asked questions regarding the history of the term Neurodiversity.
Before 2000, the professional training regarding neurodiversity, particularly in fields such as psychology, education, and healthcare, was primarily influenced by a medical model of disability. This perspective framed neurological differences — such as autism, ADHD, dyslexia, and other neurodevelopmental conditions — as disorders or deficits that needed to be treated, cured, or mitigated. The focus was often on identifying symptoms, diagnosing conditions, and implementing interventions aimed at helping individuals to adapt to societal norms or to “overcome” their differences.
The medical model has existed for around a century and still persists in some sectors despite a huge shift in understanding and research.
By the 2010s, “neurodiversity” had become a significant and recognized term in discussions about autism, ADHD, dyslexia, and other neurodevelopmental differences, extending into fields such as education, employment, and mental health. It emphasizes the understanding that neurodevelopmental differences should be recognized and respected as a social category, akin to ethnicity, socioeconomic class, sexual orientation, gender, or disability.
In my work as a psychotherapist, I am constantly aware of the friction between this medical model of dysfunction and the neurodiversity model of celebrating uniqueness.
On my own self-awareness journey, I have begun to recognise that there are parts of myself and my patterns of behaviour that could easily be interpreted as ADHD; however, these symptoms could also be interpreted as a trauma response, General Anxiety Disorder or a number of other diagnoses.
I took several online ADHD tests and consistently scored medium to high. It reaffirmed my suspicion that these tests were as reliable as gauging opinions over tea and scones with my mother and her friends.
While it wasn’t shocking to score high, I don’t feel the need for validation from a supposed professional. The whole process of diagnosis and labelling feels like it belongs to an outdated medical model when it comes to addressing mental health.
Image created by the author using a variety of editing and AI tools
Back in 1965, at the age of 11, I was taken to the doctor. While I was considered bright at school, I couldn’t sit still. I was hyperactive and found it challenging to focus during dull lessons. This was two decades before ADHD was recognised in the UK.
In the eyes of the medical model, my behaviour probably appeared to be some form of anxiety disorder. I don’t recall feeling anxious, but how else could they explain this restless, nervy kid? So, they opted to sedate me, a treatment that, in modern terms, seems completely inappropriate and verging on barbaric.
What’s even more astonishing, however, is that despite these traits now being viewed through the lens of neurodiversity, 60 years later, there are still mental health practitioners and educators who only possess tools aligned with that outdated medical model, which tends to pathologise people, including those who are autistic or neurodiverse.
Recognising uniqueness
The alternative approach to diagnosing, putting into boxes, pathologising, judging and dismissing is to recognise and celebrate uniqueness.
This has always been the case with humanistic and holistic counselling or psychotherapy. We treat every client as a unique individual. We help to uncover and celebrate the authentic self. Diagnosis has no part in this process.
Clients often come to us previously diagnosed by professionals aligned with the medical model. It can be useful for the client as it gives them some search terms for internet research, but there is also a danger that they might focus solely on the pathologised parts of themselves.
It’s like they have been stamped with a barcode for easy internet access, and they slowly morph into a walking, talking version of that barcode.
Or, a gardener gives you an extensive list of all the weeds in your garden but neglects to mention all the beautiful, thriving plants that are also there. Armed with their list, you get a weedkiller that will destroy all the weeds, and your treatment takes down all the beautiful plants with it.
How I preserved my uniqueness
Teachers saw my creative leanings as a bunch of weeds. At options time, they refused to allow me to do Music, Drama, and Art. I was forced to study science and academic subjects. The result was that I gave up trying and left school with a miserable handful of mediocre results.
Twenty years on, I taught myself jazz piano to a professional standard, became a music technology teacher, worked professionally as a performing storyteller, and began creating my business as a drum circle facilitator. Forty years later, I am earning money by writing about therapy, art, and creativity.
No matter how I look at it, the whole school system seemed designed to prevent me from fulfilling my full potential. It invalidated my creativity and passion in training me to comply with societal norms.
I am very grateful that my creative leanings and passion were supported at home and in the community through Drama clubs, Choirs, and youth Club talent competitions. We had a beautiful baby grand piano that I spent much time with, and my need to emulate Jimi Hendrix’s guitar playing was mostly tolerated.
So, free from the constriction of school, I was able to fly a little freer, but the legacy of that time was that I have always felt that society would frown upon my need to go my own way, create my own path, and ultimately be myself—until now, of course.
Embracing Neurodiversity: Celebrating Uniqueness and Unlocking Potential
In my work as a counsellor, I come across children and adults of all ages who are diagnosed, self-diagnosed, and undiagnosed with a whole range of things related to Neurodiversity.
They are all unique and have a clearly individual understanding of how their minds and bodies work a little differently from what they perceive to be the societal norm. They all also have unique and different perceptions of societal norms.
People often fixate on discovering what’s wrong with them. But when did we lose sight of what’s right? Imagine if we redirected that energy towards uncovering and nurturing our unique talents instead of striving to fit into an arbitrary ‘normal.’ Such a shift could propel humanity forward in a gigantic evolutionary leap.
Turning an ocean liner around.
Shifting paradigms from viewing people as problems in need of fixing to valuing their unique differences is a monumental undertaking. It’s akin to steering an ocean liner in a new direction — a slow, laborious task demanding patience, persistence, and substantial effort.
When trying to redirect something as vast and entrenched as societal perception, there will be challenges from all sides. In Mental Health and education, challenges persist, and outdated models have been engraved into the DNA of our mental health and educational institutions.
Where can we begin?
As with any massive process of change, we have to start with ourselves. Are you celebrating your own uniqueness or constantly trying to fit in? Once you appreciate what it looks like for yourself, you can begin to recognise environments where it is happening for others.
Is your local school an environment that nurtures creativity, individuality and diverse ways of thinking? Does it foster growth and success for all individuals or just those that fit in?
Does your workplace plod along a well-worn path of expectations, or is it open to flexible working patterns and accepting diverse approaches?
Our uniqueness is a source of strength
I hope I have been clear that I am not claiming to have ADHD or not to have it. I really am not bothered about the boxes the medical profession tries to force us into. I am not an advocate for getting or not getting a diagnosis that is entirely up to the individual.
We shouldn’t need a certificate to show that we should be accepted for our strengths and diversity. I can see a future where neurodiversity is fully embraced and individuals are empowered to thrive authentically, contributing their unique talents to a more inclusive and understanding society, but I can’t predict a timeline for that.
I caught a glimpse of this paradigm shift 35 years ago while working at The Cotswold Community, a therapeutic children’s home for boys. There, a child-centred approach permeated every aspect of care and education. Tailored programs were created for each individual, both in their daily care routines and academic curriculum.
I witnessed children flourishing in this carefully managed environment. The work was held fast by a highly skilled therapeutic team working on psychodynamic principles headed up by Barbara Dockar Drysdale. Any sniff of behavioural principles, punishment or reward was swiftly banished under her watchful eye.
Sadly I had to leave for family reasons and I have been searching in vain for a similar environment in the intervening time. I have seen behavioural approaches take hold in all sectors of education and mental health, often for economic reasons, and the results have been catastrophic for many.
My hope is that the neurodiversity movement is at the forefront of a period of profound change where the medical, evidence-based approach to mental health is eclipsed by humanistic, experience-based models where individuals are empowered to thrive authentically, contributing their unique talents to a more inclusive and understanding society.
Each step towards embracing neurodiversity brings us closer to realizing the full potential of every unique mind.
The author created the image using digital and AI tools.
We live in unprecedented times. We exist in a dimension with unlimited access to ancient mysteries and wisdom alongside the emergence of extraordinary scientific tools. Studying both can give us a universal overview from which there is the possibility of creating a sustainable future for humanity and our planet.
The 21st Century is a unique turning point in history in terms of technological advancement, communication and interaction on a global scale, environmental awareness and social and political change.
The 20th Century saw remarkable changes, which set the scene for the next 100 years as being the time humanity either harnesses its extraordinary power or is destroyed by it in the longer term.
How can we open our minds to embrace these massive global and universal perspectives without seeing it as a conflict between opposing forces?
Two coexisting Realms
I work in the Creative arts and the world of Psychotherapy. Ancient wisdom and scientific discovery exist as references in all of my work, regardless of its nature.
The title image represents this in several ways. Creativity is the process of absorbing ancient wisdom and building on that to produce an original expression of your own emotional and spiritual world.
The woman meditates in an ancient temple, and superimposed on the image is a technical, scientific illustration of energy within the body and how it affects the immediate environment.
I created the image by interacting with AI Art Generators. These tools use technology to combine wisdom from the past with cutting-edge tools of the present.
The AI Art controversy
Just as historical Luddites opposed the Industrial Revolution, the Musicians Union sought to ban synthesisers, educationalists resisted online learning, and healthcare professionals expressed reluctance towards adopting AI-assisted diagnostic tools. Similarly, some artists voice concerns about AI-generated art. These instances highlight an enduring pattern — a natural resistance to change that persists as part of the human condition.
The controversy around AI art arises from the fact that it began by analysing a massive dataset of images. Art, photography and everything in between that has been uploaded to the internet. Now I can enter some text and it creates an image to reflect that text.
an image of peace and harmony in colour light and texture
Image created by the author in Midjourney — Prompt: an image of peace and harmony in colour, light and texture
Some artists and photographers see it as theft of their work. Illustrators and graphic artists see their skilled jobs disappearing overnight.
I asked Chat GPT to expand on the connection between ancient wisdom and cutting-edge science in AI Art:
AI art generators represent a unique intersection of ancient wisdom, scientific progress, and technological advances. These tools leverage cutting-edge technologies, particularly artificial intelligence and machine learning, to analyze and understand patterns, styles, and themes from various sources, including ancient art and contemporary works. The combination of these technological capabilities allows AI to generate original artworks that may reflect a fusion of historical influences and modern aesthetics.
In the context of combining ancient wisdom, AI art generators can be programmed to learn from and emulate artistic styles from different time periods, incorporating elements of cultural and historical significance. This fusion of ancient wisdom with modern technology enables the creation of art that bridges the gap between tradition and innovation.
Moreover, AI art generators can offer a fresh perspective on creativity by introducing new possibilities and combinations that might not be immediately apparent to human artists. The process involves the machine learning algorithm identifying and adapting artistic features, leading to the production of novel and sometimes unexpected artistic expressions.
In summary, AI art generators represent a fascinating synergy between ancient wisdom, scientific understanding, and technological progress, offering a glimpse into the potential for collaborative creation between human and machine intelligence.¹
Where scientific language will never be sufficient.
I would defy any scientist to pin down or quantify the qualities that define the difference between a world-class Jazz musician and a professional musician who plays jazz. They get more work, but that’s not what I mean. I find more clarity when exploring ancient wisdom related to this.
Recently, I was at a local Jazz quartet gig. I went there because a couple of the musicians were known to me for a long time, and I respected their abilities. I expected a great night but had a fantastic, almost transcendental experience.
What stood out for me was that throughout the evening, the bass player and the drummer were completely connected with each other musically and energetically. The other two musicians were well-supported by them and played at a technically similar level, but I didn’t feel their connectedness in the visceral way I did with the bass and drums.
At first, I thought it was just me because I am a musician and can sense these things. However, this was the first thing my wife mentioned as we departed. Later, I checked in with three other friends who had been there, and this feeling of connectedness between the two was the first thing that was mentioned.
It was not measurable in scientific or musical terms, but members of the audience became aware of it through their experience in the moment with the musicians. In scientific terms, my observations were not evidence-based. Does that make them invalid?
The Eastern philosophies of mindfulness and the interconnectedness of everything are at work here. We witnessed musicians being connected and present in the moment, being creative and spontaneous in responding to that moment. Unmeasurable and impossible to describe in anything other than subjective, ineffable terms.
I am a writer, artist, musician and psychotherapist. When I can be present in the moment and create a connection with my audience/client, that is when the magic happens. When I am in the flow, following my instincts and intuition and allowing myself to experience freedom and spontaneity, I do my best work.
This quality of connection is what really makes a difference, not my adherence to theoretical evidence-based models in whatever world I am functioning in.
The Marvels of Modern Science
If the 20th Century saw the rise of the machine, the 21st Century is already seeing the rise of Artificial Intelligence as a significant bringer of change. As a writer, 15 years ago, I had to pay an editor to check my work before publishing. Now, my entire writing process has changed.
As I type, I have an AI spelling and grammar check going on in the background.
A pic of the text before I changed it
That red line under the text informed me a comma might be appropriate. Any misspelt words are corrected in the same way.
another mistake pic
If I phrase a sentence clumsily, then AI makes suggestions as to how I might improve the readability of the sentence in question.
a clumsy sentence pic
AI assisted in every step of writing this article. I roughed out a headline and ran it through a headline analyser to see if I could improve it to attract more attention. I wrote the first two paragraphs and was quite excited at getting stuck into writing the whole thing, but a brick wall to my progress immediately came up.
I could be better when it comes to structuring articles. I like to write in a stream of consciousness, which can become very messy towards the end of the process. Some articles are so chaotic they never make it to publishing.
AI-generated image created by the author with the prompt: a writer facing a brick wall separating him in the present from his finished masterpiece in the future
Now, when I find myself facing that brick wall, I copy and paste what I have written into ChatGpt and ask it to map out a possible structure for my article based on those words and some specifics about my writing style.
I rarely stick rigidly to the suggested structure, but it gets me started. If I were better educated as a writer, I would have these possible structures imprinted on my neural pathways. But I’m not, and I haven’t.
There is one further step. When I finish writing this article, I may run parts of it through ChatGpt again and ask for feedback. I choose to follow suggestions or not.
Note: I have just asked for that feedback, created a second draft based on it and you are now reading the third draft. All the constructive feedback was about improving the structure of the piece.
Scientific progress in the form of AI is enabling me to enjoy and earn some money from being a writer. Several hundred people read my work every day; my ideas and creative process ultimately keep people reading. Without AI I may well have given up long ago. It eases the process, speeds things up, and allows me to tap into thousands of years of progress and development in literature without having to attend an expensive university course for four years.
Image created by the author using AI tools
Where Ancient Wisdom and Science meet.
I first worked as a therapeutic counsellor in 1985. My training lapsed, and I retrained again in 2020
In my first job in a Psychoanalytic environment, I was aware of the tension between us and those working in the behavioural sciences. I worked with severely disturbed boys and was able to observe the differences between our way of working and a nearby establishment working with a similar cohort in a completely different way.
Both claimed to be working in line with scientific research. Our boys lived in a nurturing environment where everything was designed to meet their individual needs and allow them to follow their interests and develop insight into their difficulties. The other boys were locked up under a reward and punishment system and trained to manage their problematic behaviours.
Both claimed success and cited evidence. Alongside this, I was following my interests in Humanistic Psychotherapy, which worked for me.
In the intervening years, I have explored mindfulness, meditation, and a whole raft of experiential approaches to psychology emerging more from mystical than scientific sources. Many, like Psychosynthesis, Gestalt and Person-centred therapy, are now firmly embedded in Integrative and holistic approaches to psychotherapy.
In some ways, the many branches of psychology have come together, but there is still evidence of conflict. This is most clearly seen in how the NHS uses the phrase “Evidence-based” to justify using cheaper quick-fix therapies rather than deeper-reaching long-term therapies.
“Evidence-based” has become the scientific world’s clarion call to draw everyone to their way of thinking. This seems to forget that the scientific method has only been around for 300 – 400 years, whilst mindfulness and meditation practices have been passed on globally for between 2500 and 3000 years. Is that not evidence enough of their efficacy? Does collecting ticks on a reductionist questionnaire trump those thousands of years of lived experience?
The world of psychotherapy is actively involved in finding a point of balance where both scientific and ancient wisdom approaches can coexist.
Relating to Climate change.
The climate change debate is where ancient wisdom and science finally come together. Science and industry have ploughed forward, ignoring ancient knowledge about the environment and the connectedness of all things. Now the tide has turned, and the majority of the science establishment has done their tests, thrown up their hands and said “Oh **** They were right all along.”
The problem now is changing the whole paradigm within which we all live. It was 150 years ago that Darwin coined the phrase “survival of the fittest,” most of humanity took it to mean that they had to fight for their individual survival and could justify any means towards that end. This is a complete misunderstanding of Darwin’s meaning of the phrase. The concept of natural selection is about reproductive effectiveness, not about the survival of the individual. It is about the survival of the family, community or species.
We are faced with a dilemma where we have to sacrifice our personal comfort or habits for humanity itself to survive. Technology has driven us to this precipice, and ironically, technology is the only thing powerful enough to apply the brakes and reverse us back to a sustainable future. The voices of ancient wisdom can guide us to this place of balance where the future of humanity is in tune with the future of the planet and everything that shares it with us.
Harmonising Knowledge and Wisdom
In music, this is all about finding a point of connection for disparate musical elements. This is something you can feel as a musician. You feel the connection, tension, harmony, and separation in every moment, and then you feel the moving on to a different emotional space. This is carried along by the knowledge of the music and your instrument, its strengths and its limitations.
In my counselling room, the same thing occurs. There is a therapeutic relationship where the same process of feeling my way, being spontaneous, and being able to hold tension and anxiety is happening. I am effective as a counsellor because I am non-judgemental and present in the moment with the client, but also because I have had 40 years of questioning and exploring my own inner world in the context of modern psychological theories.
In jazz I have 50 years of experience feeling and sensing those harmonies and rhythmic journeys and it all rides on the back of the musicians that have gone before me, studied and lived in the music and passed that on through their playing.
My hope for humanity is that there are enough people connected emotionally to the heartbeat of the planet who can become guides for those amazing scientists and technologists who forge pathways of understanding across the globe and generations. Can you find this balance within yourself? Do you have the strength to show up and witness this balance for others?
Our only hope for a sustainable global future is in achieving this balance. Hearing the voices of our ancestors strengthens our connection with ourselves, each other and all living things. Using advanced AI tools to harness that wisdom and combine it with science to find a way forward for humanity that harmonises us with the physical and natural world. We must change the paradigm of life from “survival of the fittest” to something more appropriate, like “sustainability through connection.”
If you can think of a better phrase for a new paradigm, pop it in the comments below.
I finish with the words of the great jazz pianist, Herbie Hancock.
We all have natural human tendency to take the safe route — to do the thing we know will work — rather than taking a chance. But that’s the antithesis of jazz, which is all about being in the present. Jazz is about being in the moment, at every moment. It’s about trusting yourself to respond on the fly. If you can allow yourself to do that, you never stop exploring, you never stop learning, in music or in life.²
Thanks for reading to the end. Have you an example of a situation where you experience that balance between theory and intuition or Knowledge and wisdom? Use the comments box to ask any questions or share observations. Often, responses can inspire a whole new article.
Please show your appreciation by clapping, responding, following and subscribing. Thanks.
2. Possibilities (2014) by Hancock, with Lisa Dickey, p. 2
This story was first published on Generative AI. Connect with us on LinkedIn and follow Zeniteq to stay in the loop with the latest AI stories. Let’s shape the future of AI together!
The medical establishment tries to reduce us to simple diagnosable packages. This may work to a degree when applied to medical issues, but it is an absolute disaster when applied to mental health issues.
You are given a mental health diagnosis, and along with it comes a whole load of baggage. You are no longer seen as a unique individual. You have become part of a group, and that whole group of millions of people has a whole raft of prejudices and expectations associated with it. There is a catalogue of therapeutic and medication approaches that are seen as possibly making a bit of a difference.
You become a guinea pig to the medical side of the mental health care establishment.
“I tried this once, and it worked a bit. Let’s see if it works for you.” You are no longer being treated as a unique individual. You are part of an ongoing research project. A therapy is tried with not much hope of success, and if it fails, you are moved on to another one.
The last century has seen many advances in mental health treatments and therapies, but at the same time, thousands have received misguided treatments that have caused major harm.
Forced lobotomies have caused serious brain damage. ECT without consent has caused memory loss and cognitive impairment. Conversion therapy for sexuality or gender identity issues has caused significant harm including psychological distress and trauma. (The UK government are still refusing to ban this practice despite all the evidence of significant harm). There has been institutional misuse of psychiatric medications, forced sterilization, human rights violations, stigmatization and discrimination.
All of these things have been allowed to happen because there is a diagnosis. Without a diagnosis, you could not justify cutting a bit of someone’s brain out or electrocuting someone to within an inch of their life. All of these invasive approaches to mental health treatment would be seen as criminal acts against the person. The diagnosis turns something akin to criminal assault into a legal or justifiable act.
I haven’t even touched on the government-sanctioned abuse towards autistic people, and I’ll leave you to do your own research in that area.
Embracing Human Complexity
I work as a Psychotherapeutic Counsellor in the UK, where no regulation exists around these terms. I am qualified as an Integrative Counsellor but have a background in Psychodynamic therapy and working around attachment issues. I am so much more than any of these official descriptors.
I have been on a therapeutic journey for close to 40 years. Sometimes, this has been primarily cognitive, other times largely somatic (of the body). Often, it has been focused on emotional or spiritual work with a creative focus.
If someone had convinced me at any stage of my journey that I could get all I needed from a singular approach, then I would not be in the position I am in today.
There are dangers inherent in all of the singular approaches. If you major in cognitive or behavioural approaches, you can neglect your somatic, spiritual or emotional self. This creates an imbalance in itself, which can destabilise your sense of well-being.
Those who focus on their spiritual life can create a spiritual bypass where they avoid facing emotional issues, psychological wounds or other essential parts of their self-development.
The holistic approach to therapy recognises this need for balance and a consideration of the unique complexity of every individual human being. Only by considering the whole person can any sense be made of the beautiful interactions between all the many parts of yourself.
My Journey
Image created digitally by the author.
My life since my mid-20s has been a 40-year-long therapeutic journey. It has been a meandering path and I am realising now that there is no direct route. I have often sought or been drawn in by someone offering some magic formula to enlightenment, only to realise that seeking a preconceived goal means I have taken my attention away from all the gloriousness of the journey.
Self-help books offer instant transformation, you can sign up for cult-like training courses, gurus offer life-changing results, and practitioners offer to solve all your problems in 6 sessions, but the reality is that lasting change requires patience, self-reflection and a willingness to embrace life itself in all its random and unpredictable glory.
In my personal therapy now I can be taken back to moments of change and discovery at any point along the 40-year timeline.
Ancestral Trauma
Considering the impact of ancestral trauma recently, I was transported back to a sweat lodge in the 80s on a Welsh hillside. I could feel the heat and the tingling sensations in my body, the difficulty catching my breath and the smells of hot stones, sage and cedar smoke. Part of the sweat lodge ceremony is to call on your ancestors to accompany you and give guidance, in a way connecting you with the spiritual realm.
The lodge itself, a small dome of animal skins with a pile of hot stones in the centre, symbolises the womb of Mother Earth. Leaving the lodge can be seen as a rebirth, healing the trauma we all experience when we are born, of leaving the safe protective, nurturing containment of the womb and having to undergo the metamorphosis from foetus to newborn child.
At the time of being involved in this shamanic ritual, I did not have any real understanding of the effect it was having on my personal growth process. It was powerful, and I felt a connection to the other participants and the land where it took place. I was however unaware that the seeds of transformation had been planted and would remain in my unconscious, influencing my thoughts and behaviours for years to come.
Forty years later I am considering on a cognitive level how my relationship with my father was affected by the fact he was sent to fight in WW2 at the age of 18. How his father led men on horseback involved in the fall of Jerusalem in 1917. I relive the sensations of that sweatlodge, a powerful memory held in my body and it feels like a cycle has been completed and I can move on. It feels as if I have been carrying anger and pain for my father and his father before him and I no longer have to do that.
Powerful metaphors
Image created digitally by the author
At the end of my work at a psychodynamic therapeutic community around 1990 I was asked to write a reflection on my time there. The expectation was some short, maybe rational, academic essay on my own process in relation to the work of the community.
I wrote a short children’s story about a beast living trapped in a stone hut. The beast was befriended by a small child, who fed him and eventually helped him escape by enlarging the doorway.
Being part of the psychoanalytic community, interpretations about id and ego and god knows what were flying around everywhere. I wasn’t too interested in these. For me, the important part was the creative process. I focused my thoughts on my time in the community, and a metaphor emerged. I remember that metaphor now, over 30 years later.
Metaphors are useful because you remember the powerful imagery. Interpretations and meanings change over time. Extra layers can be noticed many years later.
The use of metaphor is all about embracing human complexity. I could not begin to write about my time in the community in literal, concrete terms within a psychoanalytic framework. The language was simply not there to express my experience clearly. The language itself creates a narrow view of human experience.
Human Complexity
How would you draw yourself as a human being reflecting all parts of yourself? Would you be perfectly balanced or would your brain be larger than your body reflecting overthinking? Would your heart be so big you could hardly move or perhaps your body has taken control away from your heart and mind? Maybe spiritual parts have taken hold and you are forgetting to eat and keep yourself healthy.
How has your image of yourself changed over time? Have you become more reflective, or more self-obsessed? Have you been journeying in a straight line or going around in circles or stuck in a rut? Notice how your social or cultural condition affects your relationship to that phrase. Is being still and calm necessarily a bad thing? Is travelling forward in a straight line necessarily a good thing?
Do you judge yourself as you create these complex images or can you accept yourself exactly as you are? Are you like the monster in the drawing above who has grown so big they can no longer escape from the shelter which was once their protection but has become their prison?
Accepting all parts of yourself is a way to develop harmony and resilience. Self-awareness is just that, an awareness of self. Personal growth is just that, growth around all parts of yourself, not the growth of one part of you to the exclusion of all others.
And Finally:
Healing comes from accepting all parts of yourself, and your history and developing self-awareness without judgment. Resilience is knowing there is nothing wrong. You are who you are today as a result of multiple influences from your ancestors, immediate family, society and culture.
Trying to work out what is wrong with you so that you can fix it is a massive distraction. Life is complex and you are here to live it.
Figure 1A person covered in band-aids and plasters. Image created digitally by the author.
A common thread with all my clients is that they are looking for long term impactful change. They don’t want to be patched up and sent on their way only to fall back into old habits a month or so down the line. Many have had counselling or psychotherapy before with mixed results – some found it partially effective, while others felt it was a waste of time.
Imagine Diana, a fictional character who suffered traumatic abuse as a child. She had been given counselling and referred to various specialist agencies over a twenty-year period but none of this had stopped her mental health deteriorating and her relationships ending in disaster. She finally sought a more enduring solution with a therapist who would not just focus on the trauma she had suffered but help her consider all the ups and downs of her life, rediscover her sense of self and create a hopeful future.
So how do you find a therapist who will work with you effectively to bring about long-term change? There is a lot of confusion over the titles and distinctions within mental health services. Long term Therapy is quite often referred to as psychotherapy. The terms ‘Psychotherapist’ and ‘Counsellor’ are not legally defined in the UK. You could find a Psychotherapist who specialises in short term therapy or a Counsellor skilled in long term approaches amongst a whole rainbow of variations on this theme.
Figure 2A row of therapists setting out their stalls. Image created digitally by the author.
The qualification or the title is not the important factor. More important is that the therapist is working holistically with you, addressing the cognitive aspects but looking beyond that. Helping you to see how you have developed as a complex human. Helping you to achieve harmonic balance between the mental, physical, emotional and spiritual parts of yourself.
For financial reasons, a lot of the therapy provided by the NHS and insurance companies is limited and short-term provision, so it may be that to get what you need you will have to look to the private sector. There are also some specialised charities which offer low-cost provision.
Over a forty-year period, I have worked with a host of different therapists, I’ve worked with shamans and spiritualists, somatic therapists and business coaches, a psychoanalyst and a past life therapist. I’ve done breathwork and rebirthing, CBT and hypnotherapy and gone on rites of passage adventures. I’ve chanted to a host of deities, taken part in trance drumming and dance, and become part of communities verging on the cult-like.
Figure 3A drummer in a drumcircle. Image created digitally by the author.
All these experiences gave me a little nudge in some direction or other but there are three experiences that stand out in bringing about permanent change:
In 1985, I visited a humanistic therapist weekly for a period of two years. This launched me into a process of living a life I loved.
I became a volunteer counsellor with a local Hospice and became part of the most extraordinary supervision group I have ever experienced.
I began working with my current personal counsellor in May 2021 and have seen her fortnightly for around 60 sessions.
These three experiences were and are effective because I felt seen and accepted by the others involved, and in that process, I have been able to see and accept myself. I have been able to remove the quick-fix band-aids applied to myself over the years and tend to the wounds they were covering up. I have come to know parts of myself that were hidden from view. I now have a sense of my authentic self, which is aware of those other parts but not driven by them.
If you are looking for someone to work with you in this way, you might look out for the words holistic, humanistic, integrative, pluralistic and eclectic. Once you have identified a therapist who might fit the bill, ask questions about how they would work with you. If you get the feeling they have a pet therapeutic approach or formula, they will try to fit you into, then move on. If they suggest they will follow your lead and work with you to find a suitable approach, then you are probably in the right place.
Your small child throws all of their toys out of their pram. You may be tempted to ask as the one who has to pick them up. “Why did you do that?”
Your school-age child hides in a cupboard for three hours and reappears just as you are going to ring the police. “Why did you do that? Didn’t you realise how worried we would be?”
Your teenager doesn’t eat anything for three days? “Why are you doing this? What do you hope to achieve?”
Your Spouse walks off one morning, switches off their phone and doesn’t return for 24 hours. “Why?”
What AI has to say
A question asked of Bing AI
NB. No other part of this article is generated by AI unless specifically stated
The question “why?” is loaded.
The question in itself brings a whole load of baggage with it. The person to whom the question is directed can feel it as a poison arrow. Let’s look at some of the possible imagined subtexts.
criticism
judgement
intimidation
social inadequacy
inappropriate expression of feelings
— — — — add your own in the comments below
Why do you ask why?
In my examples above, I was mainly looking at unconsciously driven acts that dissipate emotions. They are emotional outbursts. Feelings have built up over time; they have not been expressed and inevitably burst out.
Asking ‘why?’ is problematic because it sits at the overlap of three inconvenient truths. Firstly, we are blind to our motivations. Secondly, our conscious mind creates plausible reasons for our often-unconscious choices. Thirdly, when we provide those reasons, we are deeply influenced by social conventions and use our answers to get along in the world. By Andrew Grenville, Chief Research Officer | April 23, 2019
The effect of asking why
This is the most crucial point to get. Someone is acting from an emotionally or unconsciously driven motivation, and the question “why” pierces that space and immediately forces them to access their thinking mind to give an explanation.
As a counsellor, most clients I meet are plagued by their rational minds being too active. Being too emotional is not a thing in the counselling room. Accessing emotions and being able to express them in some way is a vital part of the therapeutic process.
In modern Humanistic or Integrative practice, the rationalising mind often gets in the way of accessing emotions and exploring a pathway to the root cause of upset or discomfort.
Some critics of behavioural approaches to therapy, such as CBT and DBT, which focus on working with the rationalising mind, argue:
CBT is too focused on the thinking or rationalising mind, and that it neglects other aspects of human experience, such as emotions, intuition, creativity, spirituality, and social relationships. Some people may find CBT too rigid, superficial, or mechanistic, and may prefer other forms of therapy that explore deeper issues or offer more flexibility and spontaneity.
In my counselling room if I were to ask a client at any point “Why did you do that?” I would break the spell of the session. The part of them that was comfortable talking about emotions would immediately disappear back inside, leaving their rationalising mind in control.
This is most people’s default.
The “why?” question is like pressing the reset button. The default programme regains control. They may be coming to counselling because they are repeating patterns learnt in childhood, and these are no longer working. Asking “Why?” can trigger these habitual responses.
The Shopping trolley incident.
A young client gave me permission to share this anecdote about something that happened to him. Let’s call him Nathan.
He began by telling me he had been in detention and was put in a second detention because he couldn’t control his laugh when a peer let off an amazingly musical fart. “It started low and went high!” He explained with sound effects and hand gestures.
He then described how he got the first detention. “I don’t know how it happened, really. It just happened.”
Nathan and his friends went into the playground at break and discovered an abandoned shopping trolley. This caused some excitement, and they started pushing it towards the school building. Once inside, they entered the corridor, a gentle slope all the way through the school.
Nathan then found himself sitting in the trolley, and his peers were launching him down the corridor. Quickly, it picked up speed. Coming towards the double doors, he was terrified of the impact as he was going at such speed. He passed a staircase just before the doors and grabbed onto the handrail, lifting himself out of the trolley seconds before it smashed into the locked entrance doors.
“A teacher asked me why I did it, and I had no idea. I felt I had to make something up, so I said I had accidentally fallen into the trolley as it passed.”
“He knew I was making it up. I knew I was making it up, but what else could I say?”
Any of those boys involved in the shopping trolley incident could make up something when asked, “Why?”. They could blame someone and say they were trying to stop the others.
One might try: “We were taking it to reception for safety, and the other boys got hold of it.”
Now they have blamed others on top of lying, all because the young people feel threatened. There is a threat of judgment and punishment, all contained in the question “Why?”
By asking “why”, you have permanently moved yourself away from understanding what has occurred.
Because of the strong therapeutic relationship between Nathan and myself, he knew I was not interested in “why” he had done it.
He didn’t need my prompting to explore his feelings around the incident. He didn’t attempt to justify his actions or blame others. He doesn’t regret his actions but recognises it was foolhardy.
His main concern was that he felt a little out of control and almost like he was observing himself getting whipped up in the excitement. “it just happened.”
Together, we both gained some understanding of what had occurred. From my experience, I am confident that in a future session, he will be relating something, and I will be able to say
“Does this feel similar to the Shopping Trolley incident?”
By not asking “why?” we may gain some understanding of the root causes or motivations behind some of his behaviours
Can you stop asking yourself the “Why?” question?
My most potent example of the uselessness of this form of personal enquiry centres around my daughter taking her own life. I will never know why, and my only way of continuing with a life of my own is to accept that I will never know why.
Like some before me, I could make it a life’s mission to find out why. But I know that will simply tear me apart mentally and emotionally. I could blame myself, her workplace culture, her boss, her husband, the NHS, the makers and distributors of pharmaceuticals, society, the academic education system… Once I started writing that list, I realised I had to interrupt it before the end because otherwise, the end would never come.
Why did I train to be a teacher? Why did I leave teaching? Why did I drink too much? Why did I stop? The questions are endless.
These things and questions like them used to occupy my thoughts constantly. When I first entered therapy, I thought the purpose of it was to answer some of these questions.
I realise now that the purpose of therapy has been to get me to a point where I no longer need to ask these “why?” questions. I accept that these things happened. That is enough for me now. I don’t need to make up a big story about why it happened to appease myself or others, to apportion blame or point fingers.
I can still explore those events in my life, but I am not asking why. Instead, I might be asking: “What did it feel like when I finally left teaching or heard of my daughter’s death? How long did I have that feeling? If I experience that feeling again, might I be able to react more quickly or differently?”
Exploring the answers to all those questions has contributed to my training as a Counsellor. I now have very clear access to my intuition. I can follow that intuition from moment to moment without the interference of my rational mental process. (often, sometimes, most of the time.)
Explore asking what or how questions.
Whether you are having a conversation with yourself, your child, spouse, parent or anyone else, you can explore watching out for those “why?” questions:
Why did you throw your toys out of the pram? What would you like me to do? Leave them there? Pick them up for you? Give you a hug? How are you feeling right now?
Why did I just say that? How can I apologise for any upset caused? What was I feeling to have said that? How can I express my feelings more appropriately?
Why am I still in this job that I hate? How can I find a job I would enjoy more? What is the fear that is keeping me here? How can I accept that this job is a means to an end and not my whole life?
To stop asking “Why?” questions, there must be some acceptance that random shit happens. You could spend vast amounts of energy asking, “Why?” or you could spend that energy more productively asking:
“How can I adapt to this situation? What do I need to nurture myself in these circumstances? How can I rebuild my life from this point?”
Thanks for reading to the end. I appreciate claps and will always respond to comments. You can follow me for future articles or to read previous ones.
First Published in Age of Empathy a Medium publication.
