These aren’t case studies. They’re glimpses — little moments when someone noticed the shoe they were holding on their head. Reflections are my way of sharing what this work looks and feels like: messy, tender, hilarious, surprising, sometimes boring, always human.
Two friends met to “clear the air.” They argued about who always makes tea wrong. At some point, one laughed, “This isn’t about the tea, is it?” We didn’t fix their tea ritual. We watched them notice the ritual they perform to avoid saying “I’m scared you’ll leave.”
During a climbing session, one participant froze halfway up. “I can’t.” A pause. “That’s the line I use everywhere.” She didn’t power through; she came down. Later, she told her boss she wanted fewer projects. Same fear, different wall.
A father and daughter sat through eight minutes of silence. It felt like an eternity. At minute five, the daughter sobbed. At minute six, the father said, “I love you.” Nothing was solved. Everything shifted.
“What happens to your identity when your phone battery dies?” A group laughed, then sat with the discomfort. One realised he checks his phone to avoid feeling lonely. He spent the next week turning it off for an hour each night. “Turns out, I’m less boring than Instagram.”
The eldest-child syndrome doesn’t care if you’re 38. If you grew up filling gaps, you’ll keep doing it at work, at parties, in relationships. The moment you notice it’s optional is both terrifying and freeing.
We literally walked a circle around a lake. Halfway, one participant said, “I do this with my whole life: plan the loop, predict the scenery, and then miss the ducks.” He then stopped to watch an actual duck. The world is ridiculous and sincere like that.
I thought self-inquiry was woo-woo. Turns out, it’s just honesty. Painful, hilarious, relieving honesty.
Shruthi didn’t give me a “tool.” She asked me why I keep picking partners who need rescuing. I laughed, cried, and sent her a voice note later saying, “I think I finally get it.”
This isn’t therapy like I imagined. It’s more like having someone point out that the GPS I’ve been following for years is actually a child with crayons.
These stories are just fragments. If something here resonates or annoys you, tell me why.