I’m an over-preparer. I want to be prepared for whatever happens. Not just in life, but in the therapy room too. I want to be prepared when a client doesn’t have anything to say. I want to pull out that worksheet and be like “No worries! Let’s work towards your therapeutic goals!” (Not in those words, but you know what I mean.) I do come prepared, no doubt, but I think my desire to be prepared can come from a deeper place of needing to feel in control. In a sense, I want to control what happens in the session. I think as therapists we all desire some control within our therapy space. Think about it. We tend to think we know it all; the perfect theory, the perfect worksheet, the perfect intervention for our clients.
But I often stop long enough to ask myself, “Is this really what my client needs right now?” I think this desire for control can become especially hard to ignore when I work with child clients. This desire for control could be due to many different things such as pressure from parents to “fix my kid” or my assumption that child clients don’t know what they need, and I think I do know what they need. I am the expert after all…right?
But I also have to ask myself what happens if I let go of my assumptions, my agenda, myself, what could happen? What if I listened to that tiny voice in the back of my head saying, “Just go with it”? Letting go of myself and my desire to control was a difficult lesson to learn. However, I discovered that when I did let go, when I did listen to that voice saying, “Just go with it,” incredible things happened. And I learned this all from a 6-year-old boy I’ll call Adam.
I tried many different interventions with him including sandtray, creative art, and as a last resort, talk therapy. Nothing worked. I was beginning to get discouraged because I felt that I wasn’t “helping” him, and he was still having the same issues in his classroom. I was not seeing progress.
When I brought this up to my practicum supervisor, she suggested an intervention based on Adam’s love of video games. The intervention was to create a video game controller and to create buttons based around coping skills and his difficulties. Then, the child would use this controller to “control” the therapist. The therapist would follow the child’s instructions and act out the buttons the child was pushing on the controller. This intervention was to give the child “control” of a scenario based around his issues. To my relief, Adam agreed to participate in the activity. However, when I tried to steer him in the direction I thought he needed to go, such as creating buttons based around coping skills and emotional regulation, Adam was quick to turn me down. Instead, he created buttons for running, jumping, fighting, and throwing erupting cupcakes at an invisible perpetrator.
Throwing erupting cupcakes was not what I had in mind for this intervention. However, there was a voice in the back of my mind saying, “Just go with it.” So, I did…despite my other thoughts saying, “Nope, this isn’t going to work. He’ll never get better if you keep this up.”
But listening to this voice in the back of my mind would become imperative to what happened next.
Before my next session with Adam, the elementary counselor informed me that someone had tried to rob Adam’s home. She said that he had briefly mentioned it to her in passing and she wanted me to know just in case it came up in our next session. Well, during our next session when I asked Adam if he needed to talk about anything, Adam simply said, “Nope,” and continued to eat his lunch. I could feel tears welling up in my eyes. I simply wanted to help Adam, and I could tell there was still some resistance. However, I tamped down my desire to pry and to push and moved on to explain the plan for our session.
“So, Adam,” I said, “Remember the controller we made together during our last session?” Adam nodded. “Well, we’re going to use it today.” I reviewed the button meanings with Adam and when we were finished, I said, “Okay, here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to give me a problem and using the controller, you’re going to control me to help me solve the problem.” Adam began jumping up and down excitedly. “So,” I continued, “What’s the problem you want to use?” Now you should know that my idea of the type of problem I wanted Adam to come up with was “A friend beat me at a game” or “I got a bad grade on a test”. I wasn’t prepared for what came out of his mouth next.
Adam thought for a minute and then finally said, “You’re being robbed.” Without thinking, I said, “Well, let’s think of a different problem…maybe one that happens in everyday life.” Adam looked disappointed but started to think. Suddenly, an alarm went off in the back of my head and I realized what Adam was trying to tell me: He knew exactly what he needed; he needed to process the break-in he had experienced. The voice in my head was shouting: “Alicia, JUST GO WITH IT.”
So, I listened and I pivoted. I said to Adam, “You know what? Yeah, let’s go with that. I’m being robbed.” Adam began jumping up and down excitedly. And then fun ensued. Adam pushed the “jump” button, and I jumped around the room. Adam pushed another button, and I threw erupting cupcakes. I ran and hid, I fought my perpetrator, all the while Adam was jumping up and down and laughing his little head off. Finally, after I was completely exhausted, Adam said, “You did it! You fought him off! He’s gone forever!” With relief, I plopped down in my chair as Adam erupted into applause for my performance.
As I reflect on this session, I notice how close I was to missing what Adam was trying to tell me. I was blinded by my own agenda. I thought I knew what was best for him. But in that session, Adam was trying to process something that was very real and scary in his world. And I almost missed it.
Since then, I’ve learned to use my intuition and to listen to that little voice in my head saying, “Just go with it,” particularly when it comes to working with children. I listen to the child when I introduce an intervention, and they say “No,” I let them pick up the sandtray to play with because I understand that that is what they may need in the moment. I let them do my interventions in their own way. I allow them to control what happens in the therapeutic space because there’s a good chance that they don’t get that anywhere else.
All I can say is that I’m glad I let go of my agenda and my desire to control during my session with Adam because when I did, healing took place. And I want more of that. I want more than anything to help children process things they don’t understand. I want to be the conduit they use to control what is outside of their control. I want more laughter, more fun, more silliness. And overall, I want more healing to take place in the therapy room. Adam taught me a valuable lesson: To let go of myself and just go with it.
Questions for Reflection and Discussion
How does the author’s reflections on her play therapy work resonate with you?
What do you appreciate about the author’s clinical work with Adam?
What might you have done differently with this particular child?
File under: The Art of Psychotherapy, Child & Adolescent Therapy
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But I often stop long enough to ask myself, “Is this really what my client needs right now?” I think this desire for control can become especially hard to ignore when I work with child clients. This desire for control could be due to many different things such as pressure from parents to “fix my kid” or my assumption that child clients don’t know what they need, and I think I do know what they need. I am the expert after all…right?
But I also have to ask myself what happens if I let go of my assumptions, my agenda, myself, what could happen? What if I listened to that tiny voice in the back of my head saying, “Just go with it”? Letting go of myself and my desire to control was a difficult lesson to learn. However, I discovered that when I did let go, when I did listen to that voice saying, “Just go with it,” incredible things happened. And I learned this all from a 6-year-old boy I’ll call Adam.
What a Therapist Learned from her Young Client
Adam was having some emotional regulation difficulties in his first-grade classroom, so he was referred to me, the school counseling practicum student. As I got to know Adam, I learned that he loved video games. And that was all he would talk about. I was very aware, thanks to the elementary school counselor, of all of the difficulties Adam was having at home. Yet, when I would ask Adam about how home was, he would always say “Good,” and change the subject to…you guessed it…video games.I tried many different interventions with him including sandtray, creative art, and as a last resort, talk therapy. Nothing worked. I was beginning to get discouraged because I felt that I wasn’t “helping” him, and he was still having the same issues in his classroom. I was not seeing progress.
When I brought this up to my practicum supervisor, she suggested an intervention based on Adam’s love of video games. The intervention was to create a video game controller and to create buttons based around coping skills and his difficulties. Then, the child would use this controller to “control” the therapist. The therapist would follow the child’s instructions and act out the buttons the child was pushing on the controller. This intervention was to give the child “control” of a scenario based around his issues. To my relief, Adam agreed to participate in the activity. However, when I tried to steer him in the direction I thought he needed to go, such as creating buttons based around coping skills and emotional regulation, Adam was quick to turn me down. Instead, he created buttons for running, jumping, fighting, and throwing erupting cupcakes at an invisible perpetrator.
Throwing erupting cupcakes was not what I had in mind for this intervention. However, there was a voice in the back of my mind saying, “Just go with it.” So, I did…despite my other thoughts saying, “Nope, this isn’t going to work. He’ll never get better if you keep this up.”
But listening to this voice in the back of my mind would become imperative to what happened next.
Before my next session with Adam, the elementary counselor informed me that someone had tried to rob Adam’s home. She said that he had briefly mentioned it to her in passing and she wanted me to know just in case it came up in our next session. Well, during our next session when I asked Adam if he needed to talk about anything, Adam simply said, “Nope,” and continued to eat his lunch. I could feel tears welling up in my eyes. I simply wanted to help Adam, and I could tell there was still some resistance. However, I tamped down my desire to pry and to push and moved on to explain the plan for our session.
“So, Adam,” I said, “Remember the controller we made together during our last session?” Adam nodded. “Well, we’re going to use it today.” I reviewed the button meanings with Adam and when we were finished, I said, “Okay, here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to give me a problem and using the controller, you’re going to control me to help me solve the problem.” Adam began jumping up and down excitedly. “So,” I continued, “What’s the problem you want to use?” Now you should know that my idea of the type of problem I wanted Adam to come up with was “A friend beat me at a game” or “I got a bad grade on a test”. I wasn’t prepared for what came out of his mouth next.
Adam thought for a minute and then finally said, “You’re being robbed.” Without thinking, I said, “Well, let’s think of a different problem…maybe one that happens in everyday life.” Adam looked disappointed but started to think. Suddenly, an alarm went off in the back of my head and I realized what Adam was trying to tell me: He knew exactly what he needed; he needed to process the break-in he had experienced. The voice in my head was shouting: “Alicia, JUST GO WITH IT.”
So, I listened and I pivoted. I said to Adam, “You know what? Yeah, let’s go with that. I’m being robbed.” Adam began jumping up and down excitedly. And then fun ensued. Adam pushed the “jump” button, and I jumped around the room. Adam pushed another button, and I threw erupting cupcakes. I ran and hid, I fought my perpetrator, all the while Adam was jumping up and down and laughing his little head off. Finally, after I was completely exhausted, Adam said, “You did it! You fought him off! He’s gone forever!” With relief, I plopped down in my chair as Adam erupted into applause for my performance.
As I reflect on this session, I notice how close I was to missing what Adam was trying to tell me. I was blinded by my own agenda. I thought I knew what was best for him. But in that session, Adam was trying to process something that was very real and scary in his world. And I almost missed it.
Since then, I’ve learned to use my intuition and to listen to that little voice in my head saying, “Just go with it,” particularly when it comes to working with children. I listen to the child when I introduce an intervention, and they say “No,” I let them pick up the sandtray to play with because I understand that that is what they may need in the moment. I let them do my interventions in their own way. I allow them to control what happens in the therapeutic space because there’s a good chance that they don’t get that anywhere else.
All I can say is that I’m glad I let go of my agenda and my desire to control during my session with Adam because when I did, healing took place. And I want more of that. I want more than anything to help children process things they don’t understand. I want to be the conduit they use to control what is outside of their control. I want more laughter, more fun, more silliness. And overall, I want more healing to take place in the therapy room. Adam taught me a valuable lesson: To let go of myself and just go with it.
Questions for Reflection and Discussion
How does the author’s reflections on her play therapy work resonate with you?
What do you appreciate about the author’s clinical work with Adam?
What might you have done differently with this particular child?
File under: The Art of Psychotherapy, Child & Adolescent Therapy