5 Things to Consider when Seeking an Enneagram-informed Therapist

Finding a therapist is tricky.  Or it can be, rather.  If the last few years has given us a gift, it has been the normalization and heightened conversation around mental health wrapped up in one whacky bow.  Sure, physical health took center stage in every news channel, commercial, blog post, and email.  Yet I’ve been grateful for the inextricable link those sources have made between our bodies and emotions. 

I’ve also been pleasantly surprised by the overwhelming number of online inquiries I’ve gotten seeking out therapists who use the Enneagram in their work with clients.  As someone who knew about the Enneagram before I went to grad school to become a therapist, I’m passionate about honoring the system—using it with the care and respect with which it was meant to be handled.  

In my mind, it is the most powerful spiritual and psychological tool we have access to.  To reduce it to a personality test that stays on the surface of type is such a shame!  It’s like ordering chicken tenders to-go at a 5-star Michelin restaurant.   

In light of this, I wanted to put a quick little cheat sheet together.  Something you can tuck away in your back pocket if you think you might be in the market for a therapist.  Here are my top 5 traits:

1. Holding Space: Whereas formal Enneagram training and certifications are ideal, I believe having a therapist who is expert in holding space for you and your story is more important than touting a ton of knowledge on the topic.  After all, that is hopefully what we will get better and better at while using the Enneagram: creating more space to observe ourselves and surroundings so we can respond rather than react.  The best therapists are the best space holders.  

2. Type Structure: Find someone who understands and appreciates type structure, or the deeper parts of what it means to be your type, rather than someone who stays on the surface of personality traits.  The Enneagram is all about the deeper motivation rather than mere behaviors and tendencies.  Transformation comes when we seek healing and change from the root.

3. Somatic: The Enneagram is a holistic program: Mind-Body-Heart.  It’s one of the reasons I love it so much.  Each type has a somatic profile that is so important to the makeup of type structure.  I believe having a therapist that really gets the importance of somatic work within the Enneagram construct is amazing and worth searching for.  The body is a storehouse of information as it pertains to our healing and self-understanding. 

4. Contemplative practice: Much of Enneagram application is built on contemplative practice.  Not only is it key to find someone who can support you in building this out through meditation, yoga, or other forms of mindfulness, look for a therapist who has a strong practice of their own. 

5. Narrative: Bringing our personal narratives into any type of psychotherapy is necessary.  Finding someone who appreciates type through a narrative lens is so powerful as well.  We understand type in order to identify the parts of our story that are stuck and need editing.  I believe we are all constantly writing and rewriting our stories.  The Enneagram undoubtedly supports this process. 

Alright friends! I hope this was helpful.  If you get stuck along the way, you know where to find me!

Extreme Much? Here's another way...

I remember sitting in my therapist’s office several years ago.  Probably twelve.  Gail was everything a brilliant therapist is in my mind: accepting, compassionate, wise, firm, seasoned by her own broken story, and the kind of listener that makes you feel like you’re the only soul on the planet. 

I was in the chapter of my life I refer to as the “falling” stage.  Everything around me seemed to be crumbling and my only job was to let it do so against every ounce of my will.  She held the sacred space for that painful season to unfold.  At every break, she simply wanted to better understand me, not try and fix me.  Gail saw me.

Have you ever been in that frustrating place where the best and safest thing to do is NOT break the fall? Just surrender? Just like with surfing or skydiving, the safest way to fall is to let go and lean into the plummet.

Resisting the challenge with tension, grit, and that secret stash of Xanax bars you snaked from your mama’s medicine cabinet aren’t included.

Gail patiently taught me how to fall, over time.  Something she said to me one day, in the vortex of my despair was this: “Katie, it doesn’t have to look a certain way.  You get to choose.” 

This stuck with me perhaps more than anything she ever said.  Funny how that works isn’t it?  We remember much more poignantly how people make us feel, not necessarily what they say.  However, these are some of the few words still glued on.

Much of my struggle was existing in a world of extremes, all-or-nothing thinking—you know— either-or—black or white.  Either I would be alone and depressed my whole life with little hope for anything or I’d be Miss Perfect: married with kids, a clear cut path forward, an enviable career, oh, and liked by all.

Looking back, I’m so grateful that buttoned up idea of success stayed just that, an idea.  

Falling for me meant moving from this dualistic, binary brand of extremes and living into the open relief that life, in fact, didn’t have to look a certain way.  It could be the messy middle, or, the both-and. 

I could feel sharp depression and understand hope was available.  I could feel lonely, longing for relationship and community and know it very well may look different in several weeks time.  I could long for certainty and lean into the unknown.  Richard Rohr calls it “holding creative tensions.” 

Holding the tension between a longing and its unmet fulfillment is indeed a creative, tight space.  It looks a whole lot like faith.

Does your extreme thinking feel exhausting?  Do you find yourself awfulizing situations by projecting worst-case scenarios onto perfectly neutral possibilities? If so, I feel you. It’s a relentless crapshoot. 

I believe that old way of ‘either-or’ is how we learned to make sense of the world growing up as kids.  However, as adults that rigid mindset needs some revising.  What if we could practice a softer, more curious approach? 

Let’s lean into the contemplative, creative space that invites more possibility, yes?    

Detaching in Love

Co-dependency.  We’ve all slung that word around a time or two.  Lord knows it gets a really bad wrap, too.  Truth be told, I struggle with that word—and overall label.  Why?  Because I believe humans, by nature, are needy creatures.  Straight out of the womb, we wouldn’t make it very long without the nourishment and care of parents, guardians, and loving community.  I don’t think this is an accident.  I think it’s a beautiful model for the primal humility baked into our human expression.  It’s the purest version of vulnerability in my mind.  Survival requires connectedness in relationship.

And yet growth, maturity, and adulthood require a measure of responsibility and individuation in order to balance this developmental process, continue parenting ourselves, and truly thrive.  This process is based on loving trust built with ourselves and others. 

Sounds so easy, right? 

In my experience, not so much.  It’s a bit more complicated than a college degree, a flow chart, and a driver’s license.  This newfound responsibility of adulting, or freedom in essence, comes with all sorts of complicated emotions.  At the center of them is a deep, loud longing for acceptance—for love.  

Many of us learned early on exactly how to get this need for acceptance met by shape-shifting in order to please others.  If I do or say what makes you feel good, this in turn will give me entrance into that grand room of belonging.  Call it people-pleasing, call it co-dependency, call it whatever you want.  At its core, it’s really just dishonesty and manipulation. 

I suppose here’s where I draw the line: we all have the God-given birthright to have needs and wants and get them met by asking for help.  When I feel lonely, I need to reach out and connect with safe people.  Again, being needy is a human thing not a weak thing.  However, when our internal well-being and sense of belonging is propped up by external circumstances, especially the agenda or approval of others, that line gets blurred real fast.  

When I’m feeling insecure, I tend to slip into this brand of co-dependency.  For example, I’ll do unnecessary damage control after having a difficult conversation or interaction with a friend.  Or there’s the classic over-explaining after I’ve set a healthy boundary for myself in order to soften the blow or bypass any possible friction.   

We tend to mistake this controlling behavior for care and kindness.  No dice.  Why?  Because it’s based in fear and scarcity.  Worrying, manipulating, and controlling behavior only hijacks another’s process, and in doing so, steals their opportunity for emotional exploration and growth.  Not only that, we basically assume a God-role.  We buy into thinking it’s all up to me to move the the needle forward.  Last time I checked, God doesn’t need my expertise, well-intentioned as it is.  

As we grow in self-awareness and compassion, letting go and detaching in love is crucial.  Though it seems counterintuitive and cold, detachment is a deeply loving practice. 

How to handle disappointment

I’ve experienced my fair share of disappointment lately, as I know we all have.  Whether it’s a health scare, a broken relationship, a passed-over job opportunity, or simply the sharp blow of life’s unruly outcomes, one thing is certain: life doesn’t always go as we’d planned.  In fact, the older I get, I’m getting strangely accustomed to these hiccups.  

I’ll go ahead and put myself on the the operating table, quite literally, for a minute.  At every turn throughout my cancer journey, something went wrong.  It could have been a seamless, one and done, get the cancer out and sew her up kind of situation.  And if that’s your experience, you still earned a purple heart in my book.  But between a genetic mutation, family history of breast cancer on both sides, tidal waves of anxiety, pre-cancer cells found after the double mastectomy, chemotherapy as a result, necrosis/infection of the skin post surgery, removal of the left prosthetic expander, walking around in a body I didn’t (and still don’t) recognize for more than a year, and three more surgeries to reach the finish line (perhaps) of reconstruction, I’m over it.  

And still…

I remain convinced of the plan God’s had all along: “all shall be well,” as Teresa of Avila confidently quipped.  

Not to whip out my journal and unload on you, but I do want to share with you something that has painted me into the most beautiful landscape of life I’ve ever known.  Two words:

And still…

I was approached by a woman in Whole Foods this past week.  Due to my current corkscrew pixie coif, I have become a magnet for women who have also gone through cancer and chemo because let’s just say, they see the silhouette of my uneven frame and the pile of curls on my head and have a hunch.  And I love it.  

She asked me a bit about my story, hoping to align, and started probing deeper. I didn’t begin to know her story, but I could sense a deep sadness and loneliness in her wide brown eyes.  As I smiled and opened up, I sensed her surprise as I detailed my experience and how well I felt despite it all.  Her experience was not as positive.  There was grave disappointment and it leaked out everywhere.  And I get it.   

And still…

The grace I’ve been given each step of the way has steadied my gaze on what I DO have.  I have strength, a loving family, my faith, purpose, a job I love, the gift of a child who’s smile gives me reason to believe, and a community of committed people I don’t deserve, but cling to.  That’s what I’ve focused on.  Every day.  It’s become my most potent prescription. 

There are very few guarantees in this life.  I’ve learned to hold everything openly, gratefully.  But most of all, I consider two tiny words in the face of loss and disappointment.  They tether me not to what’s missing in the moment, but what is there.  

There will always be missing pieces.

And still… 

Tiny Changes, Massive Impact

You’ve heard the saying, “Rome wasn’t built in a day.” So why have these crazy unrealistic expectations of ourselves? I have thoughts on this.

For most people, extremes are easier than balance. Unless we’ve already arrived in the vibrant land of Growth Mindset, we tend to get stuck in the purgatory of all or nothing. Black and white, dualistic belief systems keep us stuck in the rigidity of a fixed mindset.

Here’s an example most of us can relate to. You’ve indulged in way too much of Jeni’s Salted Caramel ice cream. I mean, holy dairy that stuff is like crack. You’re feeling the sugar coma set in along with a delayed wave of shame and a stomach ache.

So you beat yourself up and swear you won’t touch it again for the foreseeable future. In fact, You’ve been flirting with the idea of going Keto so this is your shining opportunity.

Sound familiar? Or am I the only one who loses all self-control in the face of temptation?

That type of all-or-nothing behavior is baked into our DNA as humans. Opening up to a growth, or responsive mindset rather than a reactionary one typically must be learned.

And yet when do we actually learn this mature approach to self-development? It’s something that has been a powerful exploration in my life as I’m a total perfectionist in recovery.

A growth mind-set is all about both/and.  

A fixed mind-set is all about either/or.

A growth mindset says,”I ate too much ice cream, I’ll choose something healthy for dinner.”

A fixed mindset says, “I ate too much ice cream. I’m going to go run six miles to burn it off and skip dinner.”

One feels kinder, more spacious...and more balanced. Unless you really just love running 6 miles with a belly ache.

A growth mindset is also built on the firm foundation of consistent, small changes, over time. It allows for doable goal setting and implementation rather than extreme makeovers in less than a week. Why? Because that kind of hustle can’t ultimately be sustained. It will likely throw us back into a yo-yo approach to relationship with self and others.

Just like when you board a plane to L.A., if the pilot is just two degrees off in navigation, you’ll likely end up in Seattle. Tiny shifts, over time, create big results.

What are some desired outcomes you’d like to see in your life right now? Give yourself plenty of time to get there and break it down into bite-size changes that will help you get there.

As always, I’m here for you if you need a little extra support on the journey.