Suffering is part of the human condition. We cannot know joy without sorrow. To be self-compassionate, according to Neff, is to move from over-identifying with our suffering to being mindful of it. What does this mean in practice? It means that we recognise our unique suffering and we notice it rather than falling fully into it and identifying with it as the only thing we are experiencing. She writes that the next step towards self-compassion is to move from the experience of isolation in our suffering to common humanity. This is to recognise that every human on this planet is just that, a human. That we all have humanity in common. When we can recognise this fact, then we can also know that every human suffers. This can open a new aspect of suffering that can alleviate the sense of isolation we can feel. It is easy to think “I’m all alone in this suffering” yet by recognising common humanity we can move out of that isolation.

The last step according to Neff is to move from self-hate or self-criticism to self-kindness. In practice, this is very much about being kind to one’s Self. This does not mean that we become egotistical or display narcissistic traits. If you think of the person you are closest to, that might be a friend, family member or partner, I can hazard a guess that you would go to the moon and back and move mountains for that person if they shared their suffering with you. You would do everything in your power to alleviate their suffering. Self-kindness is about turning that move to alleviate a person’s suffering on oneself. To become one’s own best friend instead of one’s own worst enemy. What is important here is not simply the presence of kindness but the stance of openness to one’s experience. This is not about correcting or fixing something. It is about allowing an experience to be held without immediate judgment. In practice, this often runs counter to how many have learned to relate to themselves, particularly those who carry histories of shame or trauma. Intentionally creating self-compassion doesn’t stop suffering, rather it means you can have the skill of not making your own suffering worse.

Christopher Germer, an American clinical psychologist who has co-authored books with Neff, writes how the apparent simplicity of self-compassion can obscure its difficulty. In my work, I often notice that for many clients, especially those who are actively suicidal or deeply self-critical, offering kindness inwardly can feel unfamiliar or even unsafe. In this sense, self-compassion is not a skill to be learned. Rather, it is often through the experience of being met with compassion by another, in this case a therapist, that a person can take what is offered and turn it inwards. This is where the work of Paul Gilbert, a British clinical psychologist and founder of Compassion Focused Therapy, becomes particularly relevant. Gilbert situates compassion within an evolutionary framework, describing how human beings have developed multiple affect regulation systems.

He suggests that “compassion is a sensitivity to suffering in self and others with a commitment to try to alleviate and prevent it”. This definition places emphasis on sensitivity rather than positivity and acknowledges that turning toward suffering requires capacity. Often that capacity is not easily accessible to everyone. For individuals who have spent much of their lives in threat-based states, the idea of responding to themselves with care can activate fear rather than relief as they would have experienced their needs and wants as leading to danger once upon a time. Gilbert’s work invites a more nuanced understanding of the challenges to practicing self-compassion and explains why it can be protective to not practice it if shame, trauma, suicidality and/or abuse are part of one’s experience.

The mindfulness component of self-compassion draws heavily on the work of Jon Kabat-Zinn, who introduced mindfulness into Western clinical contexts through Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction. He describes mindfulness as “paying attention in a particular way, on purpose, in the present moment, and non-judgmentally”. Within self-compassion, this quality of attention allows one to notice suffering without becoming overwhelmed by it or pushing it away. It creates a kind of internal space, or capacity, where experience can be witnessed. Without this, attempts at self-kindness can become entangled with avoidance or self-criticism.

Research on self-compassion has found how it functions psychologically, that it is associated with greater emotional resilience, not because it removes distress, but because it changes how distress is processed. Research in 2007 found that “self-compassionate people appear to be more willing to acknowledge and accept negative aspects of themselves”. This willingness is clinically significant, as it is often the avoidance of internal experience that maintains suffering. Self-compassion, in this sense, is not about feeling better, rather it is about being able to feel without becoming defined by what is felt. An existential perspective, it has also been explored in research and situates self-compassion within a broader engagement with suffering and meaning. Research in 2016 found that “the healing power of self-compassion lies in its ability to transform suffering into a meaningful human experience”. This framing moves away from symptoms and notes that suffering is not something to be eliminated but something to be understood and held within the context of a making meaning of one’s life.

The roots of these ideas can be traced back to Buddhist psychology, where compassion is considered a fundamental orientation toward suffering. The teachings associated with the Dalai Lama often emphasise that compassion involves recognition of shared humanity. As he writes, “if you want others to be happy, practice compassion; if you want to be happy, practice compassion”. While simple, this reflects an understanding that the boundaries we draw between self and other are often more permeable than they appear.

Across these perspectives, there is a consistent theme of self-relating. This has implications for how things work in therapy and how people can change by attending therapy. Many therapy approaches focus on modifying thoughts or behaviours, which can be effective but may leave underlying relational patterns intact. Self-compassion, by contrast, speaks to the way a person meets themselves in moments of difficulty. It is less about what is thought and more about how those thoughts are held. People who experience persistent self-criticism or shame are often not lacking in insight. They may already understand the origins of their distress or recognise the distortions in their thinking. What is often absent is a sense of internal safety. 

This is why the relational context matters. Self-compassion is often first encountered interpersonally, through the experience of being understood and not judged. Over time, a person can begin to internalise the experience. The therapist’s stance becomes a kind of model that can be followed, not in a prescriptive sense, rather as a lived experience of another way of being. There is also a need to be cautious about how self-compassion is framed culturally. In some contexts, it can be misunderstood as self-indulgence or weakness. Neff addresses this directly, noting that “self-compassion is not a way of judging oneself positively, self-compassion is a way of relating to oneself kindly”. This distinction matters, particularly for individuals who have been misled to believe that their worth is contingent on performance or achievement.

Self-compassion is not a technique to be applied forcefully. It involves turning toward what is difficult, recognising it as part of being human and responding with care for one’s Self. For many, this is not an intuitive process. It requires time, safety and often the presence of another. Whether therapy is focused on addressing a person’s challenges cognitively, relationally or somatically, to name a few ways, the question of how a person relates to themselves remains central. Self-compassion offers one way of engaging with that question as an ongoing practice of meeting oneself, again and again, in the midst of experience. A powerful stance to take in a world that is currently so polarising and harmful to so many. Self-compassion is gentle and courageous thing to engage in and therapy can be a safe place in which to practice.

For more information on Leo’s services, phone: 085 1300573, email: info@leomuckley.com.  www.leomuckley.com, social media: @leomuckleypsychotherapy.

At any given moment in time, we are experiencing a multitude of information. Our sensory system is feeding information through the nervous system into the brain and back at all times. Far outside of our thinking, our full being is processing all sorts of information. Much more than we would be capable of thinking about and sorting through if we had to do so consciously. Therefore, the majority of what we experience is subconscious, with many functions of the brain operating interdependently and independent of our thought.

I cannot count how many people have sat across from me in my therapy room and stated “I am…”. A complete and ultimate expression of one aspect of their being in any moment. For example, people, including myself, often say things such as “I am anxious,” “I am sad,” “I am tired,” “I am not enough,” “I am depressed,” “I am stupid,” and so on. These statements are both true and untrue all at once.

Sixteen years ago, long before I even knew what therapy is, I stumbled across meditation practices. Not the ‘breathwork’, ‘box breathing’ and ‘mindfulness’, which dominates the Western world today, rather the practices in their original format. Meditation, in its Eastern origins, was never intended as a relaxation technique or performance enhancer. It was a disciplined inquiry into the nature of mind and reality. Within early Buddhist traditions, practices such as Samatha (calm abiding) and vipassanā (insight) were developed as pathways toward liberation from suffering, grounded in the recognition of impermanence (anicca), unsatisfactoriness (dukkha) and non-self (anatta). Similarly, in Hindu traditions, contemplative practices embedded within the Upanishads, and later systematised in Patañjali’s Yoga Sutras, oriented practitioners toward direct experiential knowledge of consciousness itself. In Daoist contexts, meditation was concerned with attunement to the Tao, cultivating harmony rather than control.

Across these traditions, meditation was relational and ethical, as much as it was attentional. When we trace meditation back to these roots, we see less a technique for ‘symptom’ reduction and more a truly radical invitation to observe experience without clinging. An invitation to fall awake to one’s experience and to loosen identification with transient mental states, and to encounter the fluidity of what we habitually call self. Far from telling a person to breathe in for four, hold for four and breathe out for four. The practice was stripped of its existential and inquisitive nature and translated into another tool through Western lenses.

When I discovered these practices, I quickly changed from stating “I am anxious” to “I am noticing that anxiety is part of my experience right now” or “I’m noticing that I am having thoughts of anxiety”. That change in internal dialogue and my relationship with my thinking was a powerful one, I was able to move from over-identification with thinking to noticing it for what it was, simply thinking. Buddhist’s say “I am the thinker, not the thought itself” because creating a space between one aspect of one’s experience and your very own consciousness can be life changing.

We call it the ‘train of thought’ or ‘stream of consciousness’ for a reason; it is always running and it does its own thing. As you read these words right now, your attention is on them and making sense of them to the best of your ability. Here is the shocker, your thoughts are still flowing in the background as you read this, they don’t go anywhere, and the mind certainly does not get ‘silent’. If you shift your attention from these words to your senses right now you might notice sensations, temperatures, sights, sounds, smells and much more that stick out to you. If at a given moment in time you are experiencing anxious thoughts or physical sensations of anxiety you could move your attention through each of your senses and notice that there is so much more happening moment by moment, breath by breath.

When I discovered the power of moving my attention around and checking out more than just one aspect of my experience, I found that thinking lost its power in the best way possible. At the time, all those years ago, I couldn’t help but wonder, what is really happening when I feel such an urge to qualify myself as anxious or sad or any one thing in its totality? I discovered quite quickly, through practice, that I am so much more than the singular thing my attention might be focused on in a moment. Does this mean I never experienced a thought or sensation that I relate to the concept of anxiety since? No. I often do professional things, which include speaking to many people at once. Right before I start, I sometimes notice a buzzing in my chest, my heart rate increasing, a flush of warmth, a little bit of dryness in my mouth, a tingle in my scalp, thoughts of getting it wrong and so on, believe me when I say that this is a non-exhaustive list! What does noticing all of that do for me? It brings me squarely into the present moment and becomes information that I am experiencing. No more and no less. Do I then say to myself “I am anxious” in my mind? No. I continue on with whatever it is I am doing holding an awareness of all that is present for me without judgement and with knowledge that it will pass.

You might notice that everything passes. Whatever has the nature to arise in one’s consciousness also has the nature to fall away of its own accord without us having to do a single thing about it. If you ever have had a scab and it was itchy; if you had simply paid attention to the itch without scratching it, then it would have probably reached a crescendo of itchiness and then reduced to nothing of its own accord. I would invite you to try this out for yourself; pay attention to smells or sounds or anything else you can and you will notice that by simply being present to what is, the experience changes of its own accord.

Everything is impermanent according to the Buddhists. Truly the only certainty that we have in our living is that of our dying. If we can do our best to not grasp on to experiences we enjoy, such as joy, pleasure and so on, and to not struggle against or avoid painful experiences then we would all have such a greater capacity for this living. To live is to suffer; suffering is part of this blessing and curse of the human condition. We cannot know what happiness is without knowing the other side of the coin, which is sadness, the same goes for all other experiences. Why make our existing more challenging than it needs to be by grasping or struggling against it? Leaning into the experience, trusting that simply being is enough and knowing that everything is impermanent can be transformative. I often bring these concepts into my therapy room when a client finds them useful. The shift of attention and shift of perspective can be all that is needed to simply say, I am. 

For more information on Leo’s services, 

phone: 085 1300573

email: info@leomuckley.com 

web: www.leomuckley.com 

@leomuckleypsychotherapy

A few nights ago I was looking at the first full moon of the year. The sky was clear and the moonlight was strong, it was reflecting off the water and lighting up different parts of the woods. Yet, there were still some parts of the woods that were shadowy and dark. This got me thinking about the concept of shadow in psychotherapy and counselling. ‘Shadow work’ has become a popularised term in contemporary culture with many people on social media offering this even though it has been stripped of its theoretical roots and clinical depth. In psychotherapy, shadow work refers to the psychological process of gradually and gently recognising, exploring and, eventually, integrating aspects of the self that have been disowned or repressed. These aspects are usually those which a person has decided are unacceptable within one’s relational and cultural context.

The concept of the shadow originates in the work of Carl Jung, a Swiss psychotherapist, psychologist and founder of the school of analytical psychology, who described it as “the thing a person has no wish to be” in his book ‘Aion: Researches into the Phenomenology of the Self’. The shadow encompasses qualities, affects, impulses and capacities that a person cannot or will not identify with. Importantly, these aspects are not inherently pathological. Rather, they are frequently the result of early relational environments in which certain expressions of self were met with disapproval to some degree.

One’s shadow can often show up in day-to-day life, for example a person may look at another person and state how unacceptable they are for a certain behaviour. “Where’s he going dressed like that?” “She’s only doing that for attention” or “Look at the state of them are ways a person’s shadow could show up. What one finds so unacceptable in another is quite often what they had to hide about themselves in the shadowy depths of their own psyche. Jung highlighted that the shadow is a universal psychological phenomenon. He wrote in his book ‘Psychology and Religion’ that ‘Everyone carries a shadow, and the less it is embodied in the individual’s conscious life, the blacker and denser it is”. From a therapeutic perspective, this statement captures something that we might all have a sense of in our lives, what is not consciously acknowledged does not disappear. Instead, it can shape behaviour indirectly, often through projection, repetition and physical expression.

Projection is often an unconscious defence mechanism where one attributes one’s own unacceptable feelings, thoughts or traits to someone else, avoiding self-awareness and responsibility. For example, a person who accuses their partner of cheating because they are tempted to cheat themself. It is an ingenious way in which the human mind can cope with difficult emotions by making them seem external. Yet, it distorts reality and can harm relationships.

The shadow can also influence one’s day to day life in the repetition of patterns. A person might say “Nothing ever works out for me, I am so unlucky” or “I always end up dating bad people”. While things like this may seem out of one’s control on the surface, it is often a person’s shadow finding expression in indirect ways in the person’s life. Jung believed that repetition arises when aspects of the self remain unlived. One’s shadow does not disappear when unacknowledged or unaddressed, in fact it usually pushes for expression more strongly and leaks out in ways that seem like coincidence or out of control in life. In some of the most challenging circumstances, if trauma was the thing that led to some of a person’s shadow being created, then repetition can lead a person to seek out and re-experience trauma time and again. In the book ‘Contexts of Being’, the authors Robert Stolorow and George Atwood insightfully state that expressions of one’s shadow are not pathological or an illness rather they are “…emotional truths that could not find a relational home.”

The shadow can also express itself physically through experiences like rashes, pains and a variety of other ways that a medical doctor might say they can’t find a cause for after exhausting their approaches. Irritable bowel syndrome, tachycardia, tightness in the throat, back pain, twitches, blushing, chest tightness, poor sleep, shallow breath, migraines and being unable to go to the toilet are just a few of the things that clients might find inadvertently addressed by attending to their shadow in psychotherapy and counselling. Many psychological professionals have recognised that the body can reflect what the mind is not yet able to interpret or express. Sometimes, the concept of the body holding the score or correlation equaling causation, made famous by Bessell Van Der Kolk and Gabor Maté respectively, are referenced as if the mind and body are separate entities operating independently of each other. This is not true in the least. In my experience working with clients, the mind and body are one. Neuroscience would also support that the mind and body are one and constantly operate bi-directionally, so addressing both in therapy is always a powerful way to work with the shadow.

As we all face into another year, it could be useful to take a moment to reflect on our shadows. As I stood looking at the full moon and the shadows last week, I couldn’t help but wonder, what is so important to us that we would sacrifice an aspect of ourself and relegate it to the darkest place in our existence? I think relationship is the answer here, and to be even more specific, love. From our very first breath we all learn how to get our needs met. Initially through sounds; think of children screaming and a parent having to check if it is related to hunger, a dirty nappy or something else until they find the reason. For all of us, parents, siblings and other relationships in the world in general, will have led us to make assumptions about how we can get our needs and wants met. In this process we will all have relegated aspects of our expression to our shadow in the pursuit of connection, and most of the time, intuitively and ingeniously so.

In psychotherapy and counselling sessions, a safe relationship with a non-judgemental person who is trained to be present to their client can offer the right conditions for identification, exploration and integration of one’s shadow. I have found a client nearly always comes to therapy with a sense of something ‘wrong’ in their life accompanied by a hope that change is possible. If we are honest with ourselves, we usually have at least an inkling of our unique shadows. It is in the therapy relationship that a person can have the courage to bare themselves fully in the presence of another. We have a tendency to think we are all so unique in our ways of being, yet we can discover in therapy that we are very cliché in many ways and we all have humanity in common. A need for safety, inclusion and love exists within us all. Therapy can be a safe place to fully experience one’s needs, learn how best to express them and honour one’s self in the process. Therapy can support a person to bring their ‘stuff’ to the surface, become the fullest version of one’s self and live a life with ease and intention. In his ‘Collected Works Vol. 10’ Jung captured this well when he wrote “Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life and you will call it fate”.

For more information on Leo’s services, phone: 085 1300573 email: info@leomuckley.com
www.leomuckley.com 

 @leomuckleypsychotherapy

Since July this year, I have been working part time with the charity ADHD Ireland, as a facilitator on the Understanding and Managing Adult ADHD Programme (UMAAP). UMAAP is a novel online programme integrating psychoeducation with Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT) to cultivate knowledge of ADHD, self-acceptance, self-compassion and psychological flexibility in participants, with the aim of improved quality of life. UMAAP has been developed to address the lack of services available for adults with ADHD, referred to as ADHDers, in Ireland and as an early intervention within a stepped-care model.

The programme is run by ADHD Ireland in collaboration with University College Dublin’s (UCD) School of Psychology and the Health Service Executive’s (HSE) National Clinical Programme for ADHD in Adults. It is completely free and runs online across six sessions with multiple times and days available to choose from. The full programme information is available on adhdireland.ie to anyone who is interested. I have experienced much growth myself, as a neurodivergent person, through facilitating the programme and I have been honoured to witness the growth of participants at the same time. ADHD Ireland is doing excellent work with UMAAP and creating support groups that are available up and down the country and online too. 

I also regularly work with ADHDer clients in my psychotherapy practice and find that quite often the challenges experienced, and brought to therapy, stem from shame. ADHD has long been framed through a narrow medicalised lens but recent research, neurodivergent -inclusive practice and people’s lived experiences have shown that ADHD is not a disorder or something that is wrong with a person. ADHD is simply a differently wired brain, which leads to a person experiencing their own unique set of challenges and strengths in how they go about their life.

Dr Ned Hallowell, a psychiatrist and seminal figure in the field of ADHD, writes in his book ‘ADHD 2.0’ that “A person with ADHD has the power of a Ferrari engine but with bicycle-strength brakes. It’s the mismatch of engine power to braking capability that causes the problems. Strengthening one’s brakes is the name of the game”. Thomas E. Brown was a pioneering psychologist in the field of ADHD who passed away this year. He wrote about ADHD being a set of differences in a person’s ‘executive functions’, which he described as the “management system of the brain”. These executive functions, such as activation, focus, effort regulation, emotion, memory and action, shape how a person navigates everyday life. When these processes become overwhelmed, misunderstood or invalidated, the person often begins to live within a narrative of failure that was never theirs to begin with. As you can imagine, schools, workplaces and life in general is designed as a one-size-fits-all experience to suit the majority of people who are not neurodivergent. Therefore, neurodivergent people can often encounter shaming from the get-go in life, when they don’t ‘fit’ the mould so to speak.

I find many of my ADHDer clients speaking about common experiences of being told they are “too much” or “too emotional” or, conversely, “not enough” or “lazy”. I very rarely hear those clients say that they were understood or supported in those moments. These internalised messages develop because society often expects neurodivergent minds to perform as if they were neurotypical. Dr Russ Harris is an internationally-acclaimed Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT) trainer and is the author of the world’s best-selling ACT book, ‘The Happiness Trap’. He writes that “Our suffering is amplified when we fuse with harsh, self-judging stories about who we are”. For many ADHDers, the stories they were told about not enoughness and the harmful experiences they have had are more than thoughts, they worm their way into the mind and start to become entangled with one’s identity.

Therapeutic work for ADHDer clients often focuses around validation. Simply acknowledging that a person’s difficulties are real, relationally-formed and usually exacerbated by environments that were never designed for their executive functioning and nervous system can bring a sense of relief. This is supported by neuroscience too. Dan Siegel, who is one of my inspirations in the work that I do, is a seminal figure in the field of Interpersonal Neurobiology. He emphasises that brains develop within relationships, shaped by attunement, safety and co-regulation, regardless of neurotype. Inconsistent attunement, punitive schooling, cookie cutter workplaces and societal misunderstanding can leave neurodivergent clients living in a state of heightened arousal, easily tipped outside their Window of Tolerance, the natural capacity to tolerate stressors in life. Often, when the world around an ADHDer has activated their nervous system, it is labelled with judgement and harsh criticism such as not “good enough” or “too much’.

This is particularly relevant when considering shame, which is pervasive in ADHDer experiences and leads to unhelpful things such as perfectionism and procrastination. These can lead to shame, mental health challenges and even suicide. ADHD Ireland found in research completed with UCD a few years ago that 50 per cent of ADHDers have had non-fatal suicide attempts in their lifetime. Brené Brown, in her wonderful book ‘Daring Greatly’, described shame as “the intensely painful feeling that we are unworthy of love and belonging”. For ADHDers, shame is usually not constant but it is chronic as a result of the daily implicit and explicit labelling of ‘failures’ that accumulate over years. Missed deadlines, forgotten appointments, unfinished tasks, impulsive decisions or emotional expressions are not understood and become things that are shamed. 

Shawn Achor, in his book ‘The Happiness Advantage’, writes that “the human brain is wired for social comparison long before it is wired for logic”. This is true because it keeps us safe so to speak, this drive to compare and ‘fit in’ keeps us all a part of our tribes and ‘socially acceptable’. Something that was very important way back when being in a tribe or not equalled life or death. For ADHDers, being repeatedly compared to a neurotypical standard can lead to believing a deeply painful story of self. 

Further harm is caused nowadays with throwaway comments like “everyone is a bit ADHD” or “everyone has something now”. It was only 64 years ago, in 1961, when the first human travelled to space, yet we are not all astronauts now. It is also only in more recent times that understanding and diagnosis of ADHD has been advanced, hence people are getting the support and recognition that they deserve. ‘Everyone’ does not experience chronic challenges around organising, emotions, focus, impulsivity, memory and energy. The World Health Organisation (WHO) has found that ADHDers make up only five per cent of children and 2.5 per cent of adults worldwide. It is also recognised that diagnosis is more than likely not a fully accurate figure, as there are many who go through life never receiving the understanding or support they deserve due to the stigma and shame that exists along with unhelpful and harmful comments about ADHDers. Therefore ‘everyone’ is not a “bit ADHD” today.

In psychotherapy and counselling sessions with ADHDers, Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT) offers something profoundly healing. It emphasises acceptance, values and committed action, which aligns beautifully with neurodivergent inclusive practice. ADHDers often describe feeling stuck between overwhelm and avoidance, which produces cycles of procrastination that feel both logical and at the very same time quite impossible. ACT helps clients ‘unhook’ from the critical internal voices that tell them they are lazy or broken, and instead orient toward values-based living even in small steps. As Dr Russ Harris writes, ACT invites us to “open up, be present, and do what matters”. For ADHDers, doing what matters can involve navigating tasks in ways that honour their actual cognitive structure and way of being in the world, not society’s expectations of it. Therapy can support ADHDers to honour themselves, shed shame and live authentically in the world with ease.

For more information on Leo’s services, phone: 085 1300573

email: info@leomuckley.com 

web: www.leomuckley.com 

social media: @leomuckleypsychotherapy

There are many moments in life when the mind can, and often does, become a stage for catastrophe. One small uncertainty can spiral into vivid mental imagery of everything that could possibly go wrong. This is often called worst-case scenario thinking, catastrophising, end-of-world thinking or what some clients I have worked with describe as “a what-if spiral”. It’s a familiar pattern to recognise, thoughts such as “What if I fail?”, “What if they leave?” or “What if something terrible happens?”, can plague us and keep us awake at night. Though born from a wish to feel prepared or in control, this pattern often traps us in anxiety, self-criticism and paralysis. Often we might feel that we have to fix something with a pattern like this or that we are broken for experiencing such thoughts. In psychotherapy and counselling, worst-case scenario thinking can be viewed more holistically as an embodied and emotional experience that calls for understanding and exploration in the presence of relational safety. Beneath every catastrophic thought lies a part of the self that is trying, sometimes desperately, to protect us.

Richard Schwartz, the creator of Internal Family Systems (IFS), invites us to view catastrophising as communication in his book ‘No Bad Parts’. He reminds us that “all parts are welcome” and I often see this in my therapy practice too. Viewing over-thinking as a part of our psyche that is attempting to foresee danger, prevent shame or control the uncontrollable, can be very helpful. Just as helpful as that specific part thinks it is being by overthinking. Maybe that part was badly needed once upon a time during a particularly challenging or traumatising moment. Our parts usually learn to protect us in times when safety was uncertain or not present. From an IFS perspective, integration and relief can occur when we work on meeting our ‘What if?’ part with curiosity and compassion. This can facilitate movement from shame to understanding and self-acceptance.

With that said, catastrophising is not merely mental, it is also often experienced somatically. Dan Siegel, in his book ‘The Developing Mind’, describes the ‘Window of Tolerance’ as an optimal zone where we can think, feel and respond flexibly to our experience in any given moment. When our mind/body/nervous system senses danger, real or perceived, we can move outside this window into hyperarousal, feeling anxiety or intrusive thoughts for example, or hypoarousal, feeling numbness or disconnection for example.

Worst-case scenario thinking often emerges in hyperarousal. The mind races to anticipate threat because the body feels unsafe. The mind and body are always on the lookout for danger in our environment, this is how we have evolved and remained the dominant species on this planet. It is our default setting to spot danger. Yet, nowadays, there are no dangerous survival experiences in the wild. Rather, the danger is most often social or in our own mind. In this way, catastrophising can be seen as the mind’s attempt to make sense of bodily alarm. The nervous system activates, flooding the body with stress chemicals and experiencing energy and fear. Cognitive reassurance alone, such as telling oneself “Don’t worry, it’ll be fine”, rarely alters this state. What helps is most often co-regulation, the experience of being seen and soothed by another nervous system, in therapy that would be the nervous system of the therapist.

Here lies the profound importance of the therapeutic relationship. The therapist’s grounded presence, tone of voice and attuned empathy offer a neurobiological bridge back into the ‘Window of Tolerance’. Siegel writes that “integration begins with connection.” When a person attends therapy they can, possibly for the first time in a long time or ever, feel safe in relationship. The brain and body can reorganise, creating new neural pathways and learning to stop using the old ones, the brain is quite capable of this at any time of life. Over time, the opportunity to internalise this sense of safety, learning to self-soothe and re-enter the ‘Window of Tolerance’ without external support can be integrated.

A further component of integrating and overcoming catastrophic thinking is self-compassion. This can offer an antidote to the harsh inner dialogue that often fuels catastrophising. Kristin Neff, defines self-compassion as mindfulness, common humanity and self-kindness in her aptly titled book ‘Self Compassion’. Recognising one’s suffering and making moves to alleviate it for oneself is the definition of self compassion. When a person engages in worst-case scenario thinking, they often believe that self-criticism will keep them safe or motivated. Yet Neff’s writing shows that self-compassion, not self-judgment, fosters real change.

Approaching the catastrophising part with compassion might sound like internally saying, “I see that you’re scared and I understand why you worry. I notice you are trying to protect me”. This stance conveys warmth and patience in the face of distress. Through such a practice, one can begin to cultivate what Neff calls “a caring connected presence”. Instead of fighting against the anxious mind, we learn to soothe it. We begin to practice being gentleness with our humanity. In Neff’s words, “With self-compassion, we give ourselves the same kindness and care we’d give to a good friend”.

Thoughts are just that, thoughts. They truly only have power if we give them power. In his book ‘The Wise Heart’, Jack Kornfield writes that “the mind has a life of its own; our task is simply to begin again, and again and again”, in reference to the mindfulness skill of returning to noticing thoughts over and over. Yet, this knowledge is powerful for everyone regardless of mindfulness. Simply recognising a thought and noticing it can create space between us and our thoughts, reduces over-identifying. This embodies the Buddhist idea of “I am the thinker, not the thought itself”. Catastrophising minds often resist stillness and if we try to notice the ‘what ifs’ they can grow louder, sometimes unbearable. Yet, noticing the mind and thinking is not about silencing thoughts, rather, it is about relating to them differently. Seeing thoughts for what they are and letting them be just that, thoughts.

Ultimately, worst-case scenario thinking cannot be ‘fixed’ by logic alone. In fact, it does not need fixing as there is nothing broken in the first place. This type of challenging thinking can soften through relationship and willingness to experience life differently. A therapist can provide the relational experience of safety in which new experiences of calm and trust can emerge. If a person comes to therapy with a willingness to explore, even if that willingness is only a flicker at first, then the combination of these two things can be a recipe for change.

When I looked at the river out the back and thought “What if it breaks the bank and floods the house?”, I reminded myself that it was not happening now and noticed the thought for what it was. We can recognise that our mind, the power of our cognition in itself, is like the sky. Always present regardless of the weather that passes across it. Kornfield describes mindfulness as “loving awareness”, a quality of heart that sees everything with gentleness. This can be a powerful tool in therapy and in our daily lives.

For more information on Leo’s services, phone: 085 1300573, email: info@leomuckley.com. www.leomuckley.com. social media: @leomuckleypsychotherapy

I do remember having a meeting with a teacher towards the end of the Leaving Certificate and answering questions on a computer, a machine that would have been considered old-fashioned even in 2004! It then printed out a list of jobs that might suit me with the top two being woodworker and boat-maker. I smile thinking of this now compared to the educational experience that is on offer today. I walked out of that room with my printout and threw it in the bin. I barely knew myself, not to mind how much an out-of-date computer could know me. I could have done with some psychotherapy and counselling in my teens, instead I kept things to myself and got on with it. Maybe that was easier 20 years ago when the internet and smart devices were not readily at hand with endless information and social media…or maybe it was even more isolated and harder?

From a neurobiological perspective, adolescence involves significant restructuring of the brain. The limbic system, responsible for processing emotion, is highly active while the prefrontal cortex, which governs executive functioning, planning, and impulse control, is still developing into the mid-20s. That is a generalised statement that does not even take into consideration neurodivergence, which can present many extra challenges to a teen if it is unacknowledged and not supported. This explains much of the risk-taking, intensity and reactivity often seen in teenage behaviour. In the classroom or the home, this can be labelled as rebellion, disruption or bold behaviour.

In the therapy room this can be understood developmentally in the presence of an objective, non-judgemental and safe person. Instead of pathologising behaviour, therapists can help young people develop emotional literacy and regulation skills in a way that honours their developmental stage. Dan Siegel’s concept of the ‘Window of Tolerance’ can be especially useful when working with adolescents who move rapidly between hyperarousal, for example anger or anxiety, and hypoarousal, for example numbness or shutdown. Offering co-regulation, psychoeducation and gentle exploration can gradually expand a teenagers capacity to understand their experience, feel their feelings and stay connected to themselves and the world around them. This can often lead to better communication skills, more fulfilling relationships and healthier approaches to decision making.

Adolescence is a time which is a developmental bridge between childhood and adulthood where identity, belonging, autonomy and regulation are all in a state of flux. It is a period marked by emotional intensity, neurobiological transformation and increasing social complexity. Even more so today when teens have access to smart devices and social media, which influences them and puts a further layer of complex issues into their hands. Therapy with teenagers can meet this unique life stage with sensitivity, flexibility and a deep respect for the young person’s developing sense of self and identity.

In ‘My World Survey 2, the National Study of Youth Mental Health in Ireland’ developed by UCD School of Psychology and Jigsaw with 10,459 participants aged 12- to 19-years-old, it was found that nearly half of the participants experienced depression and/or anxiety. 627 of those teens shared that they had attempted to end their life. According to the World Health Organization, mental health challenges account for 16 per cent of the global burden of disease and injury in people aged 10- to 19-years-old. Depression, anxiety, self-harm and suicide are among the leading causes of adolescent illness and death. These are not just numbers on a page, they reflect profound unmet needs, relational ruptures and often the lack of a safe and attuned adult presence in teen’s lives across our country. 

I must add here that this information is not intended to blame parents or teachers and so on, rather this is to highlight that adolescents are in a time in life, in which they may not even share their challenging experiences with best friends, not to mind any adult. Therapy for adolescents is not a specific technique, it is more so about building a relationship. Irvin Yalom, an American existential psychiatrist, professor and widely read author of both fiction and nonfiction, states insightfully that “It’s the relationship that heals”. This is true of all therapy, but for teenagers especially, as the therapist has the potential to be the first adult to really see them, listen without an agenda and honour their pain without trying to fix it.

By the time you are reading this it will be July. I cannot help but remember a few Julys in my teen years. More specifically the end of my Junior Certificate and end of my Leaving Certificate, as both of those times were stressful for me. Both of those times were also a paradox for me, relieved the exams were over, yet deeply uncertain about what comes next. For so many teens across our country that time is right now and could quite likely be defined for them by frightening uncertainty too. Maybe some teens are even wondering what the results will bring and incorrectly believe the results are a marker of their worth. A therapist and therapy can provide a teen the space in which they can experience no demands upon them, unchanging acceptance and an invite to get to know themselves better. It can be a place for an adolescent to unpack things and make sense of their lived experiences.

All of the things that show up in my therapy practice with adults, such as suicide, abuse, trauma, self-esteem, shame, anxiety, addiction, depression and more, can all be present for teens too. However, for teens, it can be much more closely guarded and well hidden from concerned parents and so on. Many teenagers come to therapy with experiences of trauma, whether acute, chronic, relational or systemic. Much research, including the Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACE) studies, have shown clear links between early trauma and later mental health challenges. A trauma approach with teens means understanding that behaviour is a form of communication and subsequently building safety through transparency, consent and pacing. This is very important when working with those whose trust has might have been repeatedly broken. Identity is also a core theme in adolescent development. For LGBTQ+ and neurodivergent teens, I offer therapy, which is not only inclusive but affirmative. This includes challenging pathologising narratives, validating lived experience and making space for fluidity and exploration. For many young people, the therapeutic relationship is where connection can be slowly rebuilt through being seen, believed and met with care.

If you are reading this and have felt concerned about your teenage child then therapy may be a supportive fit for them. I offer all parent(s)/guardian(s) a free 30 minute phone call consultation to discuss therapy for their teen and see if I might be the right fit. Therapy can be a place in which your teen experiences a steady adult who doesn’t flinch, lecture or abandon them with their thoughts, feelings and behaviours. Therapy with adolescents is not about solving their problems, more so it is about accompanying them, as they begin to face those problems themselves. As D.W. Winnicott, a famous English pediatrician and psychoanalyst, wrote in his book ‘Playing and Reality’, “It is a joy to be hidden, and a disaster not to be found”. Psychotherapy and counselling for adolescents can provide the space for a teen in which a therapist is present, not to unearth them, but to be there when they are ready to come into view, in their own time and on their own terms.

For more information on Leo’s services, 

phone: 085 1300573

email: info@leomuckley.com 

web: www.leomuckley.com 

@leomuckleypsychotherapy

Dr. Kristin Neff, a pioneering American educator, author and researcher in this field, defines self-compassion in her book aptly titled ‘Self-Compassion’, as having three core elements: self-kindness (being gentle rather than harsh with oneself), common humanity (recognising that suffering and imperfection are universal) and mindfulness (being with what is without exaggeration or avoidance). These three elements are simple to name but can feel deeply challenging to embody, especially for those who have internalised the message from external sources in their life that they are not enough, not allowed to falter or not worthy of care.

Paul Gilbert, an English psychologist and founder of Compassion-Focused Therapy (CFT), adds an evolutionary lens to understanding of self-compassion in his book ‘The Compassionate Mind’. He writes that our brains are wired with threat detection systems designed to protect us but in modern life these systems often misfire. We become self-critical not because we are broken but because we are trying, often ineffectively, to keep ourselves safe. Harsh self-talk becomes a misguided strategy for control, discipline or survival. 

In therapy, the work can often begin with disentangling that wiring. When a client speaks with pervasive shame about something they’ve done, or something they haven’t done, I have found myself asking in response what they might say to their child/friend/significant other if they said the same thing? The response to my question is usually full of compassion, heart and love. More compassionate, more generous and more wise than how the client treat their ‘self’. We all have the capacity for these things and therapy can facilitate a slow exploration of what gets in the way of extending that same capacity inward.

Many of us are walking around carrying stories handed to us by others about our worth, our strength and our place in the world. These stories often demand perfection, toughness, silence or self-sacrifice. The stories can be inherited from families, cultures, systems and histories that do not always know how to honour vulnerability; this is sometimes referred to as transgenerational trauma. We hear this in our day to day lives also when people joke about having “Catholic shame” or “repression” simply by being Irish. When a person brings these stories into the therapy room to be heard and witnessed by an objective other they then give their ‘self’ a chance to examine the story with new eyes. There are many approaches and theories about how to ‘do’ therapy and I always explore with my clients which approach suits them best as a unique individual. It is through the approach that these stories can be explored and examined more deeply in a collaborative way.

Self-compassion also offers a powerful antidote to shame, which is a force that thrives in silence and secrecy. Brené Brown, an American shame researcher and author, writes in her book ‘Daring Greatly’ that “Shame cannot survive being spoken. It cannot survive empathy”. Psychotherapy can create a space where shame is met, not with correction of the ‘self’ but with kindness towards the ‘self’; it is then that something can shift. Clients can learn that their darkest thoughts do not make them bad, that their wounds are not a reflection of their value and that their humanity (Self) is not a liability but a common thread linking us all.

The role of attachment style is often important in the work of developing self-compassion, as it is an invisible web formed by early relational experiences that shape how we connect to ourselves and others. John Bowlby was an English psychiatrist, psychoanalyst, a pioneer in the field of attachment and the author of ‘Attachment and Loss’, one of the seminal works on attachment theory. Bowlby discovered that our earliest bonds with caregivers influence our ability to feel safe, to trust and to regulate emotions. When those attachments are disrupted or unsafe, then we can carry wounds that can show up as self-criticism, emotional disconnection or difficulty accepting care. Therapy can be a place of relational healing where secure attachment can be re-experienced and repaired through the relationship with the therapist. A space where a person can gradually learn that they are worthy of kindness, that vulnerability is met with acceptance, and that emotions, even the difficult ones, can be held safely. This relational repair invites self-compassion to grow from the ground up in the fertile soil of the felt experience of being truly seen and held.

Attachment patterns can make self-compassion feel foreign or even threatening. The inner critic, often forged in early relational pain, may argue fiercely against kindness toward self. Yet, with patience, consistency and attuned presence from the therapist, it has been proven in research that new neural pathways begin to form. Donal Hebb, a Canadian neuropsychologist known for his work in the field of associative learning, stated this directly when he said that “neurons that fire together wire together”. Neurons don’t take sides, they wire in response to their environment. Clients can learn to tolerate difficult feelings without collapsing into self-judgment, to soothe themselves instead of self-punishing and to accept their imperfections as part of shared humanity in the environment of therapy.

I often reflect on how much easier it is for many people, including my very human ‘self’, to extend compassion to others, than to their ‘self’. I have listened to clients tell me how they have metaphorically moved mountains for their children, partners, friends and family while simultaneously treating themselves with unrelenting harshness. Therapy can help a person uncover why that double standard exists and, more importantly, how it can be softened. When we learn to include ourselves in our circle of care then we begin to relate to our pain differently. We stop fighting ourselves and start accompanying our ‘self’. Some days, the best anyone can do is acknowledge that they are hurting and that it makes sense. Other days, one might surprise one’s ‘self’ by offering words of reassurance or taking small acts of kindness toward one’s ‘self’ such as a walk, a pause, a moment of breath or a therapy session. These are not small things. They are the building blocks of a new way of being.

I have been deeply privileged to bear witness to people’s courage in my therapy room, as they develop the quiet power of self-compassion that has reshaped their life. Self-compassion does not erase pain but it can transforms one’s relationship to it. It allows grief to be held with tenderness, anger to be expressed without shame, and fear to be met with curiosity rather than avoidance. It creates room for growth. To offer one’s ‘self’ compassion is to take seriously the fact that one is alive, trying their best, good enough and human. It is not a one-time act rather an ongoing practice, a practice that therapy can help cultivate and support. We all have great compassion for our loved ones, yet we often forget we have the skills and foundation to offer it our ‘self’. Therapy can be a space where that capacity is remembered, re-learned and reclaimed.

For more information on Leo’s services, 

phone: 085 1300573

email: info@leomuckley.com 

web: www.leomuckley.com 

social media: @leomuckleypsychotherapy

If a person searches the term ‘therapy’ on the internet, the first result is often a HSE website page, which shows a list of different types of ‘talking therapies’. Wisely enough, the page also reads “For some problems, one type of talking therapy may be better suited than others. You can decide which one works best for you”. I was glad to read this, yet, through working with clients over the past years, I have heard anecdotally that the HSE apparently does not often offer much of a choice of the type of therapy a person receives, even after they endure long waiting lists to access the services available, which is unfortunate if true.

Research has found that few psychotherapeutic approaches show an evidence-base as being the one and only type of therapy that works for all people all of the time. Researchers are yet to find a therapeutic silver bullet so to speak, I found this very thing in my own research too, which I went on to publish in 2024. This fact has been referred to as ‘the Dodo Bird verdict’ and indicates that even if one specific therapeutic method is shown as slightly more effective than another, it does not mean that it will be effective for every client all of the time. 

So, what is actually helpful in therapy and how does it work? An effective therapist is a person who practices ethically, has trained to recognised standards and is capable of building a trusting, safe and supportive relationship with a client. A client would usually experience this from the get-go; it translates into feeling seen, heard, welcomed and understood. Furthermore, a client would usually experience a strong therapeutic relationship as a feeling of being able to ‘say the un-sayable’ without any sense of judgement from the therapist. Therapy sessions may be experienced as challenging and difficult, they are certainly not the best craic going, but they should also feel helpful and supportive! Also, at some point, helpful therapy would usually involve a client feeling a gentle challenge from their therapist as opposed to a nodding dog agreeing with everything the client might say or share.

There are some unethical things in therapy that a therapist should not offer a client such as touching a client or having a relationship (friendship or romantic) outside of the therapy room. It would be unhelpful if a therapist overly discloses their personal information to the client and/or uses the client’s therapy session to talk about themselves or their own challenges in depth and excessively. Conversely, in helpful therapy, a therapist might, at the right time and with therapeutic intention, disclose something of their own experience to their client. Different approaches to therapy take different stances on the use of therapist self-disclosure, an effective and ethical therapist should be able to explain why they do or do not self-disclose if a client asks.

If there is a strong therapeutic relationship in place then a client should have a sense that their therapist can accept constructive criticism or that the therapist explicitly invites this. Therapy is a relationship, which means the therapist is an active participant in the therapy session and should be able to lean into exploring where things might be not so helpful. As all therapists are also humans, a therapist can sometimes say something that unintentionally causes a rupture in the relationship built with their client. In this regard, helpful therapy would include the therapist having the ability to address any rupture and turn it into an opportunity to repair the relationship. This could be experienced by a client as challenging communication as it pertains to a collaborative discussion around what has happened or is happening in the therapy relationship. Often times, unhelpful patterns in relationships or early childhood experiences can recreate themselves in a therapy session and supportive therapy will usually address these.

Helpful therapy would usually be undertaken by a therapist that can discuss what the process will be like and what kind of progress can reasonably be expected. The therapist would be experienced as non-judgmental or critical of the client’s choices or life, not seem bored during sessions and not treat a client as emotionally or intellectually inferior. Importantly, helpful therapy would present a client with a therapist who does not seem easily overwhelmed or upset by information the client discloses. I often work with suicidal clients, clients who experienced childhood sexual abuse and clients who have experienced trauma. The therapeutic endeavour is one which, when helpful, should present a space and time for a person to explore the depths of their experiences and feel securely held in that exploration. 

Therapy is often referred to as ‘talk therapy’ and therefore it can be assumed that therapy entails a lot of talking. This is a fact, however, if the therapist is the one doing the majority of the talking in every session then that would be a good indicator of unhelpful therapy. Some approaches to therapy, such as psychodynamic therapy, mean the therapist talks to a minimal degree. Others, such as cognitive behavioural therapy or acceptance and commitment therapy, involve the therapist being more active and talking more. None would usually result in the therapist talking the most.

I always try my best as a therapist to offer the people who choose to work with me a safe, non-judgemental, supportive and collaborative therapeutic relationship. I am trained in many approaches to therapy, including the ones mentioned in this column, yet I always explore with each person what they themselves might find useful. Whether that be one specific approach or a mixture. I believe each person is an expert in their own life, having lived it, so they are uniquely placed to know what is best for them. If that in itself seems challenging then there is helpful therapy in exploring that alone. Some people, due to their experiences, might find it hard to say what they want or like/dislike and exploring that can be quite the useful experience too.

With all of that said, therapy is very much two human beings sitting together in the hope that change is possible and that people can break free from the chains, which life and others may have put upon them. Dinae Ackerman, an American writer, says in her book ‘A natural history of love’ that psychotherapy is “…a profession whose mainspring is love. Nearly everyone who visits a therapist has a love disorder, and each has a story to tell – of love lost or denied, love twisted or betrayed, love perverted or shackled to violence.” As a result of this, although we share humanity in common, each individual’s uniqueness would usually inform and shape therapy. Psychotherapy and counselling is not something that is done to one person by another person. Rather, helpful therapy is a space in which a person can experience the conditions to explore, grow and choose personal freedom while being met in their humanity with kindness. It could even be called a beautiful thing.

For more information on
Leo’s services, 

phone: 085 1300573

email: info@leomuckley.com 

www.leomuckley.com  @leomuckleypsychotherapy

“Man up”; “You’re the man of the house now”; “Big boys don’t cry”; “Be a good little man”; “Don’t be a wimp”: These are some of the more print-friendly phrases a male may come up against in the home, school and workplace throughout their lifetime. These are also only a handful of examples of things that are said to influence the state of being a man, which is perpetuated in our society’s media and culture. In the very same breath a male can hear that “chivalry is dead” and “everyone should be treated equally”. To hold the door open or not, that is the question! A deeply troubling question at that, as males are subject to conflicting information that can silence them and negatively influence their sense of self.

The conversation is currently quite loud about gender-based domestic violence, sexual assault and women’s rights, to name a few things that deserve the spotlight, and rightly so. Yet, a male today will often read or hear that “it’s not all men but it’s always a man”. Pair that sentiment with many conflicting messages about not speaking or expressing emotions; a male today exists in a confusing reality. So perhaps not that surprising that of the 436 people who died by suicide in 2022 in Ireland, 346 were male (79pc). The unspoken message received by many men is to tread carefully in silence and to not show emotion, which leads to challenges such as substance abuse or the avoidable tragedy of suicide. Research shows that men’s health has improved over time but men still have a lower life expectancy than women and higher mortality rates for the leading causes of death such as heart disease, cancer and suicide.

According to Mental Health Ireland’s research, 18.5 per cent of the population of Ireland has a “mental health illness”, including anxiety, depression, bipolar disorder, or alcohol/drug abuse. The results of the Central Statistics Office (CSO) ‘Social impact of Covid-19 Survey’ showed that following the Covid-19 pandemic, up to 51 per cent of Irish men said their mental health was negatively affected by restrictions and lockdowns. It also highlighted that women are more likely than men to reach out for support if needed. Of course, there are spaces where a man can go without stigma such as a Men’s Shed. Yet, that perpetuates the issue at hand in many ways by implying men can open up if they do so while being productive in a stereotypical way and in a space hidden from others. This is not to say that Men’s Sheds are not an excellent resource and badly needed, which they are. Rather, it is to challenge the unspoken dialogue around men’s mental health in Ireland and how it is not supported as it should be. Men and boys experiencing loneliness, isolation and a lack of support or guidance in experiencing and expressing feelings is still a problem at large across the globe. The stereotyping I refer to is also often based on Caucasian heterosexual people who are born male; this does not touch upon the extra harm that can be caused to a male by other unhealthy and stigmatising discourses in society around gender, sexuality and race.

The HSE’s ‘National Men’s Health Action Plan 2024-2028’ succinctly states the benefits of supporting men and promoting men’s mental health in the societal conversation. It states that “By developing a relational approach to gender, this allows us to develop thinking and action, which is mutually beneficial in terms of women’s and men’s health and wellbeing. By recognising the reciprocal nature of women’s and men’s health, it becomes clear that policy measures designed to improve men’s health can impact not just on men’s lives, but can have a positive influence on the lives of women and children, and on society as a whole”.

A significant amount of positive work has taken place to support the health needs of men and boys. Ireland was the first country in the world to have a ‘National Men’s Health Policy’ followed by the aforementioned ‘National Men’s Health Action Plan 2024-2028’. Other programmes such as ‘Engage Men’s Health Training’, ‘MANifest’, ‘CAIRDE’ and men’s health and support groups are present and ever-growing in Ireland. They focus on men’s health and specifically men’s mental health in the construction and agricultural sectors. Quite a lot of work has already been done while there is still space to improve, with many services often focused on females.

Of course, personal responsibility plays a role in this too with the need for men to take control of their health and wellbeing as much as possible. However, male’s health and mental health is not simply an issue for the individual person. Men can often be, and usually are, influenced by other factors outside of their personal control, many of which were already mentioned in this article. Therefore, the responsibility does also rest with policy-makers, service providers, and society as a whole to recognise the role they can play and to do something about it.

I regularly work with male clients, and strikingly so with older males, and I am deeply impressed by their courage to reach out and then show up for therapy. To sit with a man at any age, who is saying he wants to address all the experiences, behaviours, thoughts and feelings he has never had an opportunity to look at or the space to do so in, leaves me in awe. It can be a radical act of choosing personal freedom from societal norms, familial influences and gender/sexuality stereotyping that results in a male growing to experience their fullness as human being.

Ronald Levant, an American psychologist, professor and former president of the American Psychological Association, studied traditional masculine roles and devised eight basic principles that often guide male behaviour. They are emotional restriction, avoidance of femininity, focus on toughness and aggression, self-reliance, achievement, rationality, objectification of sex and homophobia. All of these things may not be in the conscious awareness of any male but can show up in their day-to-day life through silence, anger, unhealthy behaviours, poor relationships with self and others, substance abuse, overworking and suicidal thoughts or actions, to name a few. Thankfully, these are all challenges that can be addressed in psychotherapy and counselling for men.

I have worked with many men who have found therapy to be supportive and helpful, and, for some, life-changing. The very inherent issue at hand is the capacity to be vulnerable in the face of many indicators that a man or boy should or cannot be. Vulnerability for males is often conflated with physical strength and perceived masculinity versus femininity. Yet, through psychotherapy and counselling, every person has the potential to discover that to be vulnerable in having, feeling and communicating emotions, requires the most strength any person could have, regardless of gender, sex or sexuality.

For more information on Leo’s services, phone: 085 1300573

email: info@leomuckley.com 

web: www.leomuckley.com 

SM@leomuckleypsychotherapy

Therefore, not one brain is the same and all people differ in their capacities and neurobiology. Neurodiversity also affirms that a person can be born with certain traits and characteristics but people can also acquire the same as a result of their environment. I am neurodiversity -affirming in my practice and do not believe that Autism spectrum disorder (ASD), Attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD), Obsessive compulsive disorder (OCD), Dyslexia or Dyscalculia, to mention a few neurodiverse conditions, are things that can be cured, fixed, healed, or repaired. In fact, the misnomer of ‘healing’, that often is referred to as taking place in therapy, is usually potent and apparent when a person encounters a radical self-acceptance of their fullest self and a therapist is present to facilitate that encounter.

Steve Silberman, an American award-winning science writer and speaker, argues in his book ‘Neuro-Tribes: The Legacy of Autism and the Future of Neurodiversity’ that “Neurodiversity advocates propose that instead of viewing this gift as an error of nature – a puzzle to be solved and eliminated with techniques like prenatal testing and selective abortion – society should regard it as a valuable part of humanity’s genetic legacy while ameliorating aspects of autism that can be profoundly disabling without adequate forms of support”. He alludes to something which the scope of this column could not possibly cover but is worthy of mention. There is a long global history of social and medical misunderstanding and neglect that has caused unimaginable suffering and prevented full lives being lived amongst neurodivergent people.

Although society would lead us to believe that we should all fit one mould when it comes to work and life, this is simply not true. We can easily identify the fact that work/life balance differs between countries and cultures with some being more similar than others. I spent a year in the south of Spain teaching English and studying during my first time in college. One of the teachers in the staff room would always announce her exit with a nod towards me and a declaration in English that “we work to live, not live to work”! At the time and age that I was, I found it to be hilarious. It was only years later I recognised the cultural difference in her proclamation, some countries put work before life at the cost of health and happiness. That teacher did not, and always seemed happy to me! 

Each person’s neurology is just as unique as each of our lived experiences are. Consequently, it must be true that recognising this and embracing this in our society can only lead to more people thriving. Thus, why might a neurodivergent person seek out psychotherapy and counselling? For Autistic people, and I write this in general terms, there is often challenges around social connections, anxiety, self-esteem, shutting down, sensory sensitivity, hyper focusing on specific things and what are referred to as meltdowns when overwhelmed. It can be said that a more inclusive society would take consideration of these things and an autistic person would not be demeaned or othered as a result, which often starts in school and is perpetuated in workplaces. If the challenges of a neurodivergent person were considered and met to the best of society’s ability, then the person may have the opportunity to flourish and thrive as a result. 

For a long time autism was referred to as being a spectrum from less autistic to very autistic with terms used such as “low functioning” or “high functioning”. It has become quite apparent through literature, research and people’s lived experiences over time that this is outdated, uninformed, harmful and unhelpful. Autism is not a spectrum, it is a unique experience that gives each autistic person their own individual strengths, challenges and differences. People who have ADHD, often referred to as ADHDers, can seek out therapy for support with challenges around impulsivity, hyperactivity, emotional regulation, self-esteem, attention span and executive functioning, commonly around the relationship with time. People experiencing OCD can seek out therapy for support with challenges such as obsessive and intrusive behaviours, thoughts and feelings or managing anxiety. 

Currently separate to therapy, medical systems can be supportive to neurodivergent individuals in helping them receive a diagnosis, access medication if they wish and get the right support and services that they deserve. So, how can psychotherapy and counselling help a neurodivergent individual? When I work with neurodivergent people a lot of the focus can be on undoing the untrue things they were led to believe in their life to date. Self-esteem can be absolutely obliterated in schools if a child is labelled “disruptive” or “inattentive” or they, and their parents, are told that they “could do better if they just applied themselves”. This can set the scene from a person’s earliest days to feel less than or not enough and lead to many challenges as an adult. Workplaces and society can also label adults as strange, different, not a team player, odd, broken or wrong if they don’t engage in small talk or find it hard to hold eye contact, for example. ADHDers quite often experience stressors in their home at a young age which can exacerbate their challenges as they grow. Subsequently, in neurodiversity-affirming psychotherapy and counselling, it can be about undoing the harm caused, coming in contact with one’s natural capacity for regulation, exploring one’s nervous system, and resilience, and finding one’s way back to their authentic voice to support and advocate for themselves. Often, learning coping skills and practical tools to support oneself is also part of the work.

Research finds time and time again that the one thing that is absolutely necessary for therapy to “work” is the relationship between the client and the therapist being safe and trusting. Gabor Maté, a famous neurodivergent Canadian physician, describes this eloquently when he says “Safety is not the absence of threat…it is the presence of connection.” I offer each potential client a 30-minute free phone call consultation, as I believe this gives a person the opportunity to get a sense if I might be safe and the right fit for them. On the call I always explain how I work, and more importantly, I make it clear that if I am not the right fit for a person then I am happy to provide names and numbers of alternative options. Just like neurodivergence, there is no one therapist that will fit for everyone all of the time and it is 100 per cent every person’s right to autonomy to choose who they work therapeutically with. Therapy for neurodivergent people should always embrace, affirm and accept differences with a curiosity geared towards self-acceptance. As Audre Lorde, an American writer, professor, intersectional feminist and civil rights activist, says “It is not our differences that divide us. It is our inability to recognise, accept, and celebrate those differences”.

For more information on Leo’s services,  phone: 085 1300573, email: info@leomuckley.com, web: www.leomuckley.com, social media: @leomuckleypsychotherapy

When it comes to mental health, it is well known that January can come with the ‘blues’ for many people. For some, this is the impact of Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD), which results in cognitive slowdown and a sense of heaviness, similar to depression, but more specific to the seasons, as a person will not experience it during the summer months and may have no other challenging aspects to their life. For others, coming out of the festive season and over-indulgence can cause a crash of sorts. Back to work, possibly in debt and probably not feeling at their best physically. 

Mental health challenges can be compounded at this time of year for many people, which leads to anxiety, depression, isolation and sometimes suicide. One year ago, I wrote my first column in this newspaper about suicide. The Central Statistics Office recently released their provisional statistics for 2022, which are the most concrete figures available, as more recent years cannot be confirmed due to how deaths, and suicide specifically, are reported and recorded in Ireland. In 2022, 436 people died by suicide. 346 were male (79pc) and 90 were female (21pc). These statistics are worth sharing to once again bring awareness to the pandemic of suicide in our country. One death by suicide is one too many; the mental health system in Ireland is underfunded by the government and the publicly available services are plagued by waiting lists. The majority of charities fund their services through the public’s generosity and, little known to the public, usually end up paying most of their funding to upper management such as CEOs and area managers and so on. The people that suffer in this all are the ones who need help the most when it is not readily available. 

You might be thinking, ‘Well what’s the alternative to New Year’s Resolutions so, Mr Know It All?’. What I offer to you at this time of year is the idea of intentionality. To be intentional can be transformative, from a meditation and mindfulness point of view, this is to do one’s best to pay attention to what one is doing in any given moment and, to do so with an intention. From other perspectives, such as Acceptance and Commitment Therapy, which I am trained in, this would be referred to as cultivating and fostering an attitude of acceptance for what is and striving towards what can be based on your values. I trained with Jack Kornfield during 2024; he is a renowned mindfulness meditation teacher who is often referenced as being the one who brought mindfulness and meditation to Western society. In his wonderful book ‘A Path with Heart’, he says that “When we let go of our battles and open our heart to things as they are, then we come to rest in the present moment…Only in the reality of the present can we love, can we awaken, can we find peace and understanding and connection with ourselves and the world”.

Is that not the true goal that is worthy of pursuit? To awaken to the fullness of one’s self as a human? To be present to our feelings and connectedness to others? To recognise our common humanity and accept that every one of us is doing the best we can with what we know can be eye-opening. Suddenly the world can become a much less challenging place. I recently saw a clip on social media regarding the idea of ‘Let Them’ that seems to be gaining a lot of attention. This is based on a book called ‘The Let Them Theory’ by Mel Robbins, an American author and podcast host, who says “If someone crosses a boundary or mistreats you, ‘let them’ may mean doing so with the understanding that what they’re doing is a reflection of them – not you – and acting accordingly”. This is all about acceptance of the other for who and what they are and then taking personal responsibility to have boundaries and autonomy around what one accepts in their own life.

So, as we look towards the next months, which will more than likely fly by, what might it be like to be intentional and present? To try one’s best to accept one’s self, others, and the world around you, as it is? To lean into presence and attention in the moment can help with mental health and, ironically, following through on goals and resolutions. Often, when a person ‘fails’ to achieve a goal, it is not because of a lack of skill, rather it is due to not maintaining discipline. 

Often, psychotherapy and counselling can be viewed with stigma around it, as something for people with ‘mental illness’ or who are ‘sick in the head’. This could not be further from the truth. I work with clients who are suicidal or who have experienced childhood abuse. I also work with clients who are challenged by stressful jobs or life changes. I know when I go to see my own therapist that sometimes I am working on things that challenge me deeply. Other times when I am seeing my therapist I am working on discovering my capabilities as a person and being curious about what it is I am truly capable of when I see myself differently through the eyes of another.

Psychotherapy and counselling can be supportive for many reasons and might be something worth considering as you go forward into this New Year. It can support you in developing mental fortitude, intentionally, acceptance, presence and discovering who you truly are. As the great Austrian poet Rainer Maria Rilke says, “And now let us believe in a long year that is given to us, new, untouched, full of things that have never been, full of work that has never been done, full of tasks, claims, and demands; and let us see that we learn to take it without letting fall too much of what it has to bestow upon those who demand of it necessary, serious, and great things”. In other words, while striving for our best self, maybe we can also simply take it handy?

For more information on Leo’s services,  phone: 085 1300573, email: info@leomuckley.com. web: www.leomuckley.com. social media: @leomuckleypsychotherapy

As I ponder upon this my mind strays to thoughts of Christmas mornings in my Nana’s house. The smell of mulled wine wafting around the air, the sound of wrapping paper being pulled apart, feeling excited about the Christmas swim and much more. These thoughts are fuelled by powerful emotions and memories. Yet today, they also are tinged with feelings of grief as my Nana is no longer with us, may she rest in peace. I feel the power of multiple emotions at once brought on by the potency of my memories. The feeling is quite a physical experience that I can notice in my heart rate and body temperature along with slight tension in my chest and throat. Comfort, joy, pain and grief all wrapped up in one, pun intended. So, I am led to believe by my gut instinct that this month’s column would be well served by writing about feeling feelings. As opposed to offering a way to simply “survive” them at a time of year that can be experienced as powerful in many ways.

Leslie S. Greenberg, Canadian psychologist and originator of Emotion Focused Therapy, writes that “Emotional expression governs, and changes, interaction. Anger, for example, produces distance, whereas vulnerability disarms”. The holiday season can be a time of the year which reminds people of many things that are challenging. Such as those who are no longer with us, fractured relationships with family members, childhoods that were traumatic and/or abusive, familial estrangements, money worries, pressures to give a perfect gift, the loss of a sense of home or place, the expectation to socialise and much more.

With the challenges inherent to this time of year, memories are activated and they carry powerful emotions that are attached to them. Sometimes, even without a specific memory coming to mind, a smell, sight or sound can bring on an emotion that is out of place and time, an echo of the past so to speak. This is a good indicator of how our mind/body connection works. Sometimes it might seem like we can change or control what is going on or how we feel simply by using the power of the mind. Yet, that is not the full picture. If a specific smell did bring with it an emotion of sadness for example, then the body is where that feeling originates as opposed to the mind. The mind/body connection is not a one way avenue, rather, it is a bi-directional pathway through which our thoughts, emotions, behaviours, senses and nervous system interact back and forth all of the time to form our experiencing in any given moment.

Quite often in therapy and counselling there is an element of working on building capacity to feel one’s feelings. Sometimes if a client shares an emotion they are experiencing I might ask, when appropriate, “how do you know you are feeling that emotion?”. We will then explore together the felt physical experience of the emotion together. This is often referred to in therapy as somatic or body work, it can be extremely helpful in some ways but can also be harmful if a practitioner is not trained to do so or does so without the knowledge to support the practice.

We regularly refer to how we are feeling our feelings without naming specific emotions in our day to day lives. At a funeral someone might say “I have a lump in my throat” and anyone hearing that will know they are probably feeling grief, pain, despair or sadness, for example. A person might say they have “butterflies” in their stomach before a test or while doing something outside of their comfort zone; most people know they mean they are feeling fear, excitement or nerves without having to name the emotion specifically. To take time to pay attention to how one feels in one’s body can be a supportive way to honour oneself. Combine that noticing of the body with naming what emotion the feeling might be and it can be a powerful tool. It can create a space in which a person can identify their ‘butterflies’  for example, followed by naming excitement and then choosing how to respond in the moment based on that mind/body information.

At the beginning of this article I reference my gut instinct, this is often how we refer to what I am writing about. A felt and deeply known sense of what is the right thing to do or say that is in our awareness but not tangible. In unsafe situations it is usually the gut instinct that will prompt a person to walk away, run, fight or even shut down if none of those options are available: A completely normal way that our mind and body works as intended and can keep us safe when an experience may be too much for us to handle. The human version of a safety net or an alarm system so to speak.

Research around the effect of emotion and the science of our brains finds that emotions are connected to our evolutionary motivation system. Emotions signal how we are reading the environment and they are designed to mobilise and drive an adaptive behavioural response. Emotions are not designed for us to slow down and take time to experience how they feel in mind and body. Further, society is not geared toward the feeling of feelings or allowing time to do so. One can be feeling a lump in their throat on a Saturday at a funeral and expected to be productive back at the office the following Monday. As a result, many people have learned how to not feel feelings, as they may feel too big or not ok. This can result in grinning and bearing it, ‘coping’ with the crutch of too much alcohol or avoiding situations completely, to name a few ways of ‘managing’ emotions.

As the holiday season is nearly upon us it could be useful to consider slowing down and taking note of what you are feeling. Checking in on your gut instinct. Trusting that your body and mind have been designed in a way that will keep you safe. If a person, place or situation does not feel right, then it likely feels that way for a very good reason. This can helpful to navigate a joyful yet challenging time of year in a way that trusts and respects oneself. With that said, for many reasons, it is quite often a normal experience for one to find it hard to come in contact with their gut instinct or have any awareness of it at all in fact. Therapy and counselling is a place in which a person can rediscover their gut instinct, feel their feelings and explore the inherent safety of inhabiting their fullness as a person, feelings and all. Deb Dana, a social worker and author on befriending one’s nervous system, writes that “It’s important to know whether our responses are coming from the past or are grounded in the present”. Wise advice that I take onboard at this time of year. I know when I smell mulled wine this year, I will smile and look forward to enjoying a glass. I will also be conscious of my senses and my felt experience. I know grief will also be present in the moment and, through therapy and counselling, I have learned that that’s ok too.

For more information on Leo’s services, phone: 085 1300573

email: info@leomuckley.com 

web: www.leomuckley.com 

@leomuckleypsychotherapy