One of the questions I’m often asked by people who are thinking about starting therapy is whether I work collaboratively, or whether I’ll mostly sit back and listen.

I completely understand why people ask. Quite a few clients have told me about previous experiences of therapy where they felt their therapist mainly listened and nodded but didn’t seem to contribute very much. For some people, that was exactly what they needed at the time. Having a space where they could finally put words to something they had never said out loud, without fear of judgement or interruption, had real value.

For others though, it left them wondering what therapy was actually meant to be doing. Once they had said everything they needed to say, they found themselves wanting something more but weren’t quite sure what that might look like.

I sometimes find this question surprisingly difficult to answer because it depends what someone means by “working collaboratively”.

If they are asking whether I’ll give advice or tell them what I think they should do, then my answer is usually no. That isn’t because I want to stay distant or because I don’t have thoughts of my own. It’s more that I don’t believe my role is to become the expert on someone else’s life.

What I hope to do instead is stay as close alongside my client as I can.

To me, a person-centred way of working has never meant sitting quietly and saying very little. It means responding to the person in front of me and trying to understand what they need in that moment rather than following a formula or deciding in advance how the session should unfold.

Sometimes that means checking I’ve understood something properly. Sometimes it means wondering aloud whether I’ve noticed a pattern. Sometimes it might mean sharing some information if it feels relevant.

Sue Wilders writes thoughtfully about the difference between offering information and offering advice in Embracing Non-Directivity. She suggests that a therapist can offer information without attaching any expectation that it should be accepted or acted upon. The client remains free to decide whether it is useful to them or not. I think that feels quite different from advice because it leaves the client’s autonomy intact. It is one example of the many ways a person-centred therapist can contribute to a conversation without becoming prescriptive.

Over the years though, I’ve found myself becoming more interested in something else that often seems to happen in therapy.

When people begin to feel genuinely understood and accepted, they often become more able to think creatively for themselves. They notice things they hadn’t noticed before. They begin joining up ideas that had previously felt disconnected. Sometimes they find themselves saying something that neither of us could have predicted at the beginning of the session and it feels as though a new understanding has quietly appeared.

I don’t think that’s because I’ve had the right answer hidden up my sleeve. In fact, it often seems to happen when I’ve resisted the temptation to rush in with ideas of my own.

It makes me wonder whether many people already have far more wisdom and resourcefulness than they realise. Perhaps what is missing isn’t advice but the experience of having enough space, safety and acceptance for those parts of themselves to emerge.

That is probably what feels most important to me about therapy.

So when I do intervene in a session, it usually isn’t to point someone towards the answer I think they should find. More often I’m checking my understanding, offering a reflection or staying with something that feels important so the client doesn’t have to explore it on their own.

If therapy goes well, I hope clients leave not because I’ve solved their problems for them but because they feel more able to trust themselves. They may not always have found the answers they were hoping for, but perhaps they leave with a little more confidence that they can find their own way through whatever comes next.

I think that’s very different from simply sitting back and listening. It feels much more like keeping someone company while they gradually discover that they are more capable than they first believed.

Reference: Sue Wilders in ‘Embracing Non-Directivity’ ed. Brian E. Levitt