Understanding Ourselves and Learning to Stay
A reflection on insight, change, and meeting ourselves differently.
Many of the people I work with are already deeply thoughtful.
They know where their anxiety comes from. They can trace the shape of a relationship pattern across years, sometimes decades. They understand attachment. They’ve reflected. They’ve journaled. They’ve talked to friends. They’ve probably already had some version of the conversation we’re having in therapy inside their own head many times.
And still, something feels stuck.
Often that feeling of stuckness is part of why they arrive in therapy at all. The question usually sounds something like:
“If I already know this… why does it keep happening?”
I don’t think that question means therapy isn’t working. I think it points to something important.
Insight can create orientation. It can help us make sense of ourselves. Sometimes it can create enormous change. But often insight arrives long before change does.
Because change asks for something insight doesn’t always provide: not more explanation, but usually a different kind of relationship, sometimes with another person, and sometimes with ourselves.
One thing I appreciate about psychotherapy research is that this doesn’t seem to be a failure of insight, or a failure of us.
Across many different approaches to therapy, change does not seem to happen primarily because people finally arrive at the correct explanation for themselves. Understanding matters. But so do emotional experiences, practicing something different, finding moments where we stay instead of leave, where we feel something we usually avoid, where we respond differently to something old, and where we discover, often slowly, that our body, our relationships, and our inner world can become places we inhabit differently.
If understanding ourselves hasn’t changed everything yet, I don’t think that necessarily means we’re missing the answer. Sometimes it means the work ahead asks for something more experiential than insight alone.
—
One of the shifts I often find myself making in therapy is moving away from questions that sound like:
How do I stop doing this? Why am I like this? How do I get rid of this feeling?
Toward questions that sound more like:
What makes this response make sense?
or
What happens if I stop treating this experience as evidence that something is wrong with me?
This is not about excusing behaviour or deciding every pattern should stay.
But I do think there is a difference between understanding an experience and learning how to stay with it.
Sometimes understanding that we feel anxious, ashamed, lonely, angry, or afraid does not immediately change those experiences. Sometimes the work is not finding a better explanation.
Sometimes the work is noticing the moment we begin to close around what we feel: to tense, judge, rush, seek certainty, withdraw, become harsh, or leave ourselves entirely, and then, gradually, practicing something different.
Not making the feeling disappear. Not convincing ourselves we shouldn’t feel this way.
But creating enough space to stay: to feel what is here, to care for ourselves inside of it, and to remain connected to ourselves, and sometimes to another person, when everything in us wants to protect, react, or pull away.
In my experience, this kind of work is often slower than insight, and sometimes much more difficult. Because insight can happen in thought. Learning to stay asks something of us emotionally, physically, and relationally too.
—
Maybe this is one reason change can feel so elusive.
Sometimes we are trying to argue ourselves into changing before we’ve felt understood enough to loosen our grip on what the pattern was protecting.
Not always.
But often enough that it’s worth asking.
So if you’ve been frustrated that insight hasn’t changed everything,
I wonder if the next question isn’t:
“What am I missing?”
But:
“What would it mean to meet this differently?”