Walking Each Other Home: A Map for the Interpersonal Terrain
The name Entangled Minds refers not only to our inner condition (see my previous blog post, Walking the Inner Terrain), but also to the process of group therapy. In this work, a group of six to ten individuals meets regularly over an extended period to learn about themselves by exploring their relationships with each other—and with me, the therapist. In this way, Entangled Minds also offers a map for the interpersonal terrain.
In my experience, once group members become sufficiently entangled in each other’s minds and lives, a distinctive set of unspoken rules—or a shared culture—emerges. This culture contains and guides the group’s interactions.
At the risk of sounding esoteric, I experience this emergent phenomenon as a kind of living, breathing entity—a life force, if you will. While certain principles can help foster the emergence of culture, I’ve yet to reliably conjure or control it. Attempts to direct or manage group culture often backfire, either stifling its organic development or creating dependency on me for guidance—both of which are counterproductive and antitherapeutic.
As a therapist working with small groups, I aim to create a space that fosters autonomy, trust, and a willingness to engage with something larger than our individual, pain-avoiding, pleasure-seeking egos. I believe surrendering control to something beyond the ego is essential for psychological growth and healing. When we remain tethered to the myopic drives of the ego—or passively conform to societal norms shaped by patriarchal capitalism—we suffer. Without an imposed structure or rigid agenda for group sessions, the unique culture of each group can arise as a guiding force.
This culture often emerges spontaneously, after a period of cultivating the right conditions: stability, consistency, honesty, safety, and freedom of expression. I liken this to gardening. We can tend the soil, water the seeds, and create optimal conditions—but we cannot force the plants to grow. They grow in their own time.
Paradoxically, one of the most challenging aspects of my role as a group therapist is not to “therapise.” I often think of myself not as a leader or rule-enforcer, but as a host: I maintain the space where the group meets, keep the lights on, recruit new members, and handle administrative tasks. Beyond that, I’ve found the most profound sessions arise when I am fully present, attuned, and engaged—yet free of any agenda to manage or steer the group’s interactions.
Despite recognising the limits of my control, I remain endlessly fascinated by the emergence and evolution of group cultures over time. Tracking and exploring these evolving norms with group members is one of the most gratifying parts of the work. Framing therapeutic group dynamics as something that arises spontaneously among entangled minds—rather than something to be engineered—has been a liberating shift in my practice.
A guiding question I return to again and again is this:
How can I stay sensitive, present, and deeply engaged with the group, while refraining from interfering with the wild, spontaneous healing that wants to emerge on its own?