Knowing when to move, and when to stay still can be something that’s brought to therapy.
It might be literal, in a practical sense – should I carry on attending work through this difficult time, or take the sick note and rest? It might relate to attention and thinking, about how to process something – should I look deeper, or consciously challenge and divert my thoughts away from this topic?
Sometimes the question of whether to move, or to stay still, can relate to there being a decision to be made. The question might really be – is there something I can do, or do I have to accept that this is happening, or has happened?
Sometimes when bringing an experience, or maybe a problem to therapy, it is about determining whether anything can be done. Can I change this situation – diet or exercise myself out of this, think, buy, or work myself out of this? It might be that talking about the problem will lead to a solid answer that I can take back out into the world and convey, to provide a positive solution.
It might seem that there is a pressing decision that needs to be made. For the times where there nothing can be done to ‘solve’ a situation, the illusion that there is can be very important. It is often that neither client nor therapist is sure about the truth of this until there has been some considerable investigation. Thinking, talking, feeling – maybe questions are offered, by client and therapist, lead to determining whether or not there is an answer – and maybe the answer is that there isn’t one.
What can be clear in these scenarios is that the feeling is that there really ought to be something that could be done so things are different, better. When there isn’t anything ‘to do’, that can be hard.
Sessions where what’s being experienced is the difficulty of there not being anything that can be done can be really challenging for clients. Hopefully, the therapist is aware of the weight of these moments – they are maybe interested and inspired as you navigate what it’s like to sit with this difficulty, especially where not much can be done to mediate it.
Often in the stillness of these moments, where nothing can be done, is where the therapist’s compassion and empathy can be the most crucial for client.
This blog is titled, questions – when to move, and when to stay still. It’s not always clear what the right answer is, both in sessions, and in life more generally.
I’ve noticed that I’ve started writing (publicly, on here), a few times. I will often stop, take blogs down altogether, then at a future date it seems okay again to start. Who knows why; it could be the pressure of using my voice online (what will people think?!); it could be because I don’t consider I have much worth saying. It could be because I can’t commit to writing (well enough) on-top of the other work, training and life commitments. Often if feels as if I should be practicing what I ‘preach’ – and resting when I can.
Resting is important, and there are different ways of resting. Through play, maybe movement, music, silliness. Through creation, maybe music, writing, art. Through physically staying still – sitting, meditation, sleeping (napping). Noticing when you really want to stop resting, which ever resting you are doing. And being curious – what is it that happens if I were to stay in this form of rest?
It is often the moment we notice we’re wanting to move out of something that if we were to stay still, we might learn something new – maybe feel something different. What we feel might be difficult, and unwanted. And so we move, change, distract.
There are times it is important to trust this avoidance, if avoidance is what this is. Avoiding the thing we don’t want to feel, or know. Maybe we think or feel that to learn it means we must do something with it. There might have been times it wasn’t safe for these understandings to come forward. Maybe it makes work too impossible, maybe it means you’d need to take time away from friends, dependents, partners. Feeling what hasn’t been felt yet might still not feel safe for you, and there might be some investigation into whether it would be unsafe to know something, or act on it. There’s never any rush on this.
The questions might look like – would it be unsafe, to feel it, or know it? And might I be able to stay a little longer with this thing that’s coming up – and what happens if I do?
For some people, maybe with ADHD, or autism, the rest that’s ‘prescribed’ in the mainstream can be very misaligned with how their brain and bodies work. Sitting still to meditate, focusing on breath, when often they are hearing so many micro noises that other people have the unknown privilege of automatically filtering out.
For some people with difference, it is actually movement or motion that creates what others experience when they stay still in order to rest. It can be music and stimulation that creates some stillness, or space, to feel or to know new things within themselves. The process of moving, or staying still, can lead to connection with new understandings and feelings. And sometimes it is by taking the action that you get to understand what the problem even was, and how it can be tackled (or not).
I don’t believe this is something that can’t be done alone – but the support of a therapy relationship is what can support this staying with the new feelings, and understandings in a way that feels bearable. When new understandings, feelings, or memories are coming up – it can be important to explore what’s being experienced with someone who’s trained to follow your lead, and guide the sessions in a way that supports what’s happening. Hopefully without trampling your process of making sense of what you’re coming to understand.
Movement might lead towards recognising mistreatment, or misalignment with a friend, partner, or workplace. It might be a difficult conversation, or setting a boundary, that leads to answers becoming more clear. Movement might be be taking these actions, even when the fear is enormous. Staying still in this case might involve honouring the fear you are feeling. Sometimes, instead of ‘feeling the fear and doing it anyway’, you might notice the fear, and decide you’ll stay home. There isn’t a right way to decide. Navigating moving (maybe creating change, action, deciding), and staying still (maybe rest, inaction, contemplation, motion that leads to a meditative state), might be a process of learning how you look after your own body, your own fight, flight, freeze responses. This can be part of a process of getting to know yourself gently.
My example with the writing, involved me trialling and honouring what felt right at a given time. Sometimes it feels too threatening to be visible. Then I might do a post or write a blog and notice that I feel better, maybe more energised, or clear on a decision.
I can retrospectively see, that creating (movement, the writing) in spite of fear (which I had been honouring by ‘staying still’) was the correct thing for me. I come to this understanding through movement out of something, and seeing how I feel on the other side of that. I have support in place to make that change, out of stillness and into movement. I have my self-knowledge, my ability to understand and honour what goes on for me internally. This is something that took time, and takes time, to learn.
In my example, movement out of the stillness was the correct decision for me. It’s possible that staying still and sitting with the fears I had, led me to being able to move (take action, and check how this felt). Once I moved, my experience was positive. I am somehow different from having gone through that process, and have written about it – and that is interesting to me.
Part of being in therapy is being with someone (a therapist) who you might hope is versed in the enormity of what it can be like to experience new things. Coming to difficult realisations that necessitate change (or not) alongside someone who really has your back and acknowledges and maybe even feels the complication involved in fully understanding what’s happening.
It might be that by staying with, or staying still, we come to think or know something we had hoped wasn’t true, or we’d needed to supress in some way. For example, realising that we want to leave an unhappy job, or relationship. And maybe it doesn’t feel possible right now. We might not have gone through this before, and so we don’t know what happens next. This unknown can be what’s so threatening, and it can be hard to let go of control in that way.
We might have previous experiences that we use to somewhat translate and inform the new experience we are having or are going to have. And it’s not quite the same. This can bring up some understandable fears and anxieties. Maybe we notice our heart rate is fast, or we feel a little shut down and disconnected, tired, bored. These responses make sense. Whatever your fear response is at a given time, is an important way that your body is trying to stay safe. Safety is important for our survival – we’ve evolved to stay alive, as best we can.
So, it’s not always clear when to move or stay still – and honouring either might support in a different way. Your anxiety and fear might really need to hide sometimes. And at some point, moving through this might lead to helping with some depression, sadness, or disconnection. There are things to be learnt in the movement and in the staying still.
I hope you enjoyed this writing, inspired by the person centred approach, my understanding of our bodily responses to threat and unsafety, and much reading, watching, and talking with wonderful humans.
If you are interested in working with me, or want to feedback about anything I’ve said, feel free to use my contact form, or send a text to 0161 524 3865.
