Series: Therapy Speak, Decoded
“I think I need to process that.”
It’s a phrase I hear often in my work. And when I ask what someone means by it, there’s usually a pause.
Processing has become one of those therapy words that sounds meaningful but can feel opaque. So let’s try to be more concrete about what it actually involves.
It’s Not as Arduous as It Sounds
Not everything that needs our attention can be “processed through.” Some experiences — grief, significant loss, things that fundamentally changed us — aren’t problems to be resolved. They’re experiences we learn to keep company with, returning to them at different points in life, understanding them differently each time. The goal isn’t completion. It’s learning to create a new relationship with the experience — and with yourself in light of it.
But a lot of what we call processing is simpler than that. It’s turning toward an experience rather than away from it — making contact with what’s actually there rather than keeping it at arm’s length. Not fixing, not concluding, not even fully understanding. Just making contact.
Three Things That Are Always Involved
When we process an experience, we’re usually working with three things at once:
Thoughts — what your mind makes of what happened. The story you’re telling yourself, the conclusions you’re drawing, the questions that keep surfacing.
Emotions — what you actually feel. Not what you think you should feel, or what would make sense to feel, but what’s actually present when you slow down enough to notice.
Body sensations — where the experience lives physically. The tightness in your chest, the heaviness, the restlessness, the way your breath changes when you think about it.
Processing isn’t just talking about something or thinking it through — that’s often just rehearsing the story. It’s noticing all three channels and letting them inform each other. Thoughts and feelings and body are connected, and when we only work with one we tend to stay stuck.
Name It to Tame It — Feel It to Heal It
Two ideas that come up often in this work: Dan Siegel’s name it to tame it, and the related notion that we need to feel it to heal it — both pointing toward the same thing. When we can identify and make contact with what we’re experiencing — rather than pushing it away, numbing it, or judging ourselves for having it — something shifts. Not always dramatically. But the experience stops having to work so hard to get our attention.
The opposite of processing isn’t rest. It’s avoidance. And avoidance tends to keep experiences alive longer than they need to be, because they never quite get the contact they need to settle.
Without Judgment
One thing that gets in the way of processing more than almost anything else is self-judgment.
I shouldn’t still be upset about this. I should be over it by now. Other people have been through worse. What’s wrong with me?
Processing requires a different stance — one of curiosity rather than judgment. Not “is this feeling justified?” but “what is this feeling, and what is it telling me?” Not “should I still be thinking about this?” but “what does this thought need?”
That’s harder than it sounds, especially if you grew up in an environment where certain feelings weren’t welcome. But it’s also learnable.
What Helps
Some experiences process naturally — given time, support, and the chance to talk about them, they settle on their own. Others need more deliberate attention.
Therapy is one way to create that deliberate space. Having someone alongside you while you turn toward something difficult makes it more bearable, and often more productive.
One approach I find particularly useful for this kind of work is Focusing — a practice developed by philosopher and psychotherapist Eugene Gendlin. Focusing works directly with body sensation as a way into experience, helping people make contact with what’s there in a gentle and unhurried way. It’s not about pushing toward catharsis or arriving at answers. It’s about being with what’s present.
I offer Focusing-Oriented Therapy in my counselling practice, and if you’re curious about what the approach feels like, the recorded workshop Clearing a Space: An Intro to Focusing is a gentle place to start.
This post is part of Therapy Speak, Decoded — a series unpacking the words that show up constantly in therapy contexts and don’t always get explained. Because language that creates distance is the opposite of what therapy is for.
Jill Koehler, MA, RCC-ACS is a Registered Clinical Counsellor and Approved Clinical Supervisor based in Squamish, BC, with a focus on anxiety, trauma, and relationships.
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