The Art of Distraction in the Therapy Room

Distraction in the therapy room is often seen as something to work through or against—a glitch in the unfolding process. But what if we invited it in as a messenger? The art of distraction in the therapy room can then become a gift.

In our latest Peer Supervision Series gathering, we explored distraction not as disruption, but as a doorway. We asked: What might distraction be inviting us to notice, within ourselves and within the shared relational field?

As therapists, coaches, and guides, we are trained to notice misattunements, resistances, and ruptures. But distraction is more subtle. It may show up as a shift in tone, a fleeting gaze, a subject change, or even a sudden urge to check the time. Whether it arises in us or in our clients, it’s often a cue—sometimes protective, sometimes emergent.

Writing Prompts

In our workshop, I asked participants to reflect on a recent client session and engage in contemplative writing—allowing thoughts to flow freely without judgment or pause. Contemplative writing can also be described as a form of active imagination.

We reflected on two key prompts during the session:

When did I notice distraction—either in myself or in my client—during the session? How did I experience this (in my body, thoughts, or emotions)?

How did I respond to distraction in the room? Did I follow it, redirect it, or sit with its presence? What might this reveal about my own relationship with uncertainty, avoidance, or creative emergence in the therapeutic process?

The first prompt focused on somatics while the second prompt focused on behavior, or, said differently, feeling state vs. action state.

The Neo-Jungian Lens

From a Neo-Jungian lens, distraction can be seen as a trickster energy—a shapeshifter that disrupts linear narrative and opens the possibility for symbolic insight. It may signal avoidance, yes—but it may also be the psyche’s way of saying “not yet” or “not this way.”

In the peer group, we named our own tendencies—toward redirection, curiosity, even collusion. We sat with the discomfort of silence disrupted and the invitation it offered. In some cases, distraction becomes the very path into the deeper work. We even discussed more Gestalt approaches to this theme when the therapist might fully address their own distraction with the client.

The art, then, is not in correcting or eliminating distraction, but in learning to discern its texture. Is it a defense? A detour? A doorway?

“The psyche has its own language, and sometimes it speaks in detours.”
—Dr. DeeAnna Merz Nagel

As always, we returned to the idea that how we show up in the room—how we track our own impulses and energies—can become a portal to deeper presence. And perhaps distraction, when approached with compassion and curiosity, is not the thing to get back on track from—but the track itself.

Final Thoughts

Recognizing when distraction arises—and choosing how to engage with it—isn’t a disruption of the work; it is the work. The intentionality behind whether we follow, redirect, or sit with distraction is what makes it an art form. It reveals our attunement, our discernment, and our willingness to trust the unfolding process.