Thoughts on Psychotherapy

When people ask what kind of therapy I practice, I usually find it hard to give a simple answer. That’s not because I don’t know—it’s because therapy, at its best, resists simplification. Good therapy is alive. It unfolds in relationship, shaped by the uniqueness of each person who walks through the door.

Still, I want to share some of the ideas and influences that shape the way I work, for those who are curious.

The Unconscious

Sigmund Freud introduced to Western medicine the idea that we are shaped by unconscious forces: thoughts, desires, and emotions that exist outside our conscious awareness. While Freud had his biases, the basic insight that not all of our inner life is visible to the rational mind remains deeply relevant.

In today’s world of quick takes and curated surfaces, there’s something radical about slowing down to listen inwardly. The unconscious shows itself in dreams, slips of the tongue, contradictions between what we say and do, images that return to us again and again. I believe there is power in paying attention to these glimpses. They can point us toward parts of ourselves that are waiting to be known.

Psyche

The Greek word psyche is often translated as “soul.” Psychology, then, is the study of the soul, and psychotherapy, care for the soul. I use the word psyche the way Carl Jung did: to describe the deeper forces within us that move and shape our ego (the conscious self we usually identify with). These forces show up in our patterns, our dreams, our longings, and sometimes our suffering.

I’m especially interested in how the psyche connects us to myth, art, and collective experience. Working with the psyche might include dream work, active imagination (a kind of waking dream), image and symbol, or expressive arts. I don’t impose these methods on anyone, but for clients who are drawn to them, they can be powerful tools for exploration and healing.

Internal Family Systems (IFS)

I also use an IFS-informed approach with clients who resonate with the idea of having “parts” within them. IFS offers a user-friendly way to engage with the many inner voices, images, and selves we all carry. It’s not explicitly rooted in Jungian thought, but I find it a helpful complement, almost like a modern interface for active imagination. It’s also a nice, systematic way to do what some call “inner child” or “reparenting” work. And if the idea of personified parts sounds too woo-woo, they can be thought of as memory clusters, or patterns of thinking and feeling.

Many people find it helpful to build relationships with different parts of themselves: protective parts, younger parts, critical parts, etc. This inner dialogue can lead to more self-compassion and clarity.

The Inner World

I believe the inner world is just as vast and complex as the outer world — and just as real. It can be awe-inspiring, beautiful, confusing, and sometimes frightening. Having a guide can help.

Relational Therapy

I practice relational therapy because I believe healing happens in relationships. Many of our wounds were formed in early relationships, and it is in the presence of another person (someone attuned, curious, and responsive) that those wounds can begin to heal.

Therapy isn’t one person baring their soul to an expert. It’s two people trying to connect. I bring my full humanity to the process, not just my training.

Diagnosis

The medical model can be helpful, especially when a diagnosis leads to resources or a sense of recognition. Sometimes, putting a name to suffering is a relief. At the same time, the DSM is a political document, shaped by cultural norms and professional consensus, not absolute truth.

I resist the deficit-based model that positions the therapist as right and the client as wrong or broken. I don’t find it meaningful to “treat anxiety” as if it were a separate entity from the person experiencing it. You are more than a cluster of symptoms. I’m interested in who you are, not just what you’ve been diagnosed with.

A Person-Centered Approach

I see each client as a whole person, with wisdom, strengths, and a unique story. Like humanist psychologist Carl Rogers, I believe you are the expert on your own life. Therapy, for me, is not about fixing what’s wrong with you; it’s about creating the conditions for your inner clarity and capacity to emerge.

Narrative and Meaning

We all live within stories: stories we inherited, stories we learned, and stories we tell ourselves. Therapy can be a place to examine those stories and begin to reimagine them. What if you’re not the problem, but the story you’ve been living in is too small?

Between Chaos and Rigidity

Mental health, as Dan Siegel puts it, is what flows between chaos and rigidity. In our nervous systems, our relationships, and our thinking, we need both structure and flexibility. Too much of either, and things stop flowing. I try to help clients find that dynamic middle space—where creativity, responsiveness, and growth happen.

The Body (Soma)

Our minds are not confined to our heads. They live in our bodies, our senses, our breath, and our nervous systems. When words fall short, I often turn to somatic awareness, helping clients tune into physical sensations, movement, and the relational field between us. This can offer insight and grounding in ways that thinking alone cannot.

Practical Solutions

While deep inner work is central to how I practice, I’m also pragmatic. Sometimes what’s most helpful is finding a tangible next step or a new strategy for coping. Skills aren’t the heart of therapy for me, but they can remove obstacles to deeper change.

Process and Flexibility

Carl Jung said that we must create a new therapy for each person, not just a new treatment plan. Different people need different things, and what works at one point in your life may not work at another.

What Makes Therapy Work?

There’s a well-known study suggesting that most forms of therapy, when practiced well, are equally effective. This could mean that what matters most are the “common factors” across approaches: the relationship, empathy, trust. Or it might mean that different people need different things, and each approach works for a particular group.

I tend to think it’s both. That’s why I care deeply about the relationship we build—and why I also draw from a variety of methods, depending on what fits you.

Pluralism

I haven’t committed to a single therapeutic model, and I don’t plan to. Human experience is too complex to be captured by one framework. I enjoy learning new theories and approaches, but I also enjoy breaking them open when they no longer serve. Therapy, like life, asks for flexibility, creativity, and responsiveness.