Whenever I conduct webinars for therapists, I offer a reminder to them – and to myself – that speaks to an important part of the work we do in therapy.
As a client in therapy as well as a counsellor who sees clients, I’ve learned one of the reasons counsellors benefit from their own therapy is gaining an understanding of what it’s like on the other side.
In my work, I know I’m not a “blank slate” – I have my ups and downs just like anyone else, and it’s with this in mind that I often say, “It’s never just the client in the room – we also carry our personal baggage”. This led me to consider relationships more broadly, not just in the therapy room, but between friends, family, and in any connection at all. Whether we’re talking as friends, parents, or partners, there’s value in trying to see from the other person’s perspective while recognising that none of us has perfect answers or pure motives.
The more we can acknowledge our own tendencies – the habits, sensitivities, or blind spots we bring – the more aware we are about how we communicate. In his book, The Healing Path (2022), spiritual writer and clinical psychologist Dr James Finley tells a story about a hermit who is visited by parents and their young daughter. The parents are anxious, apologising for intruding on the hermit’s solitude, and explain they had come because their daughter had been turned into a donkey by an evil wizard.
The hermit invites them in, then speaks with the child. He asks if she’s hungry and prepares a meal, and talks about things that matter to her. When the parents see the curiosity and sincerity in the hermit’s voice, something shifts. They realise no spell had been cast on their child – the spell had been cast on them, blinding them to who she really is.
Sometimes, the real distortion isn’t in the person we think needs changing – it’s in our own perception, clouded by fear, expectation, or certainty about what’s wrong. We can become so convinced of the story in our heads that we stop seeing the person in front of us as they are.
Philosopher and psychologist Dr Kristian Kemtrup makes a similar point in his reflections on relationships where we feel responsible for another person’s wellbeing. Speaking about parenting, he warns against the anxious over-control that can happen when we try to manage a child’s development, mostly to make ourselves feel less helpless. The harder path, he says, is keeping clear thinking about each person’s unique needs, resisting the impulse to overreact, over- correct, or over-manage.
His observations apply to all kinds of relationships. We might think we’re protecting someone when, possibly, we’re protecting against our fear of losing control. If we can’t see our own role in a relationship, we can’t engage honestly, and the connection risks becoming more about our needs than about theirs.
Ajahn Chah, the Thai forest meditation master, once listened to two people debating who was right. After hearing them out, he told one, “You’re right, but you’re not correct”, and the other, “You’re correct, but you’re not right”. The exchange is a reminder that truth in relationships isn’t only about facts. We can be logically correct while missing the emotional reality, or emotionally right while missing the wider picture.
The moments when we feel most certain of our rightness are often the ones that call for pause. What might we not be seeing? What assumptions are colouring our interpretation? How much of our reaction belongs to this moment, and how much comes from old patterns that still shape us?
Of course, our experiences and feelings matter, yet they’re only part of the picture. What we see is shaped by where we stand, and relationships often deepen when we make room for another’s view. That doesn’t mean anything goes or that we ignore our needs, but seeing our own flaws can be a strength, helping us connect with more honesty and care. Finley’s hermit reminds us that love and attention can dissolve distortions more effectively than correction or control.
And it brings me back to the therapy room, where the work is never just about the other person – counsellors always need to be aware of the baggage we carry, and how that shapes what we see and how we respond.
If we can hold that awareness – in therapy, friendship, or family – we give our relationships a better chance to withstand the strain of disagreement or misunderstanding.
We might come to see that being right matters less than being present, steady, and placing our care for the other above the need to win. It takes time to “remove the plank of wood” from our eyes, but the reward is always worth the effort.
Sunny Side Up columnist Sandy Clarke has long held an interest in emotions, mental health, mindfulness and meditation. He believes the more we understand ourselves and each other, the better societies we can create. If you have any questions or comments, e-mail lifestyle@thestar.com.my. The views expressed here are entirely the writer's own.
