My approach as a therapist can be summarized in about two catchphrases that anyone working with me is going to hear a few times. The first, and perhaps most often used, is “I’m not trying to be the Wizard of Oz” or “I’m going to stop being Oz here.” 

So, spoilers for a movie that was out in 1939, but let me explain what I mean. Toward the end of the movie, the main characters finally get to talk to the all-powerful Wizard of Oz and are wowed by the booming voice and flashy pyrotechnics. But it turns out this magnificent show was merely a distraction, so they wouldn’t notice “the man behind the curtain.” The actual wizard was not a very inspiring fellow, and more manipulative than helpful.

Since I want to make sure I’m never the man behind the curtain, I try to let people know what I’m thinking while I’m thinking it, or why I’m asking the questions I do. Now I guess this is also a way of leaning into my ADHD to try and make it into a strength, but I’m hoping it shows a commitment to honesty even though it might wreck that whole “all-knowing therapist” vibe. More than that, I hope it invites clients to a greater level of participation as they have the opportunity to correct things they might disagree with, small or large.

Every human makes mistakes, and I certainly hope I never make a dumb comment that has a negative impact. In fact I try to always reference my ideas to actual research, and on the rare occasion I resort to intuition or personal opinion, I try to remind clients to “feel free to take it or leave it.” I try to give clients permission to believe I’m wrong, and for that matter, even well-cited research can sometimes be wrong or not work in some unique situation. And really, all situations are unique.

Which brings me to my other catchphrase, which is strongly related to the first; however, this one I have stenciled on my office wall: “I don’t care what you do, just do it on purpose.” Obviously that first part has some caveats. I do care if you’re going to hurt yourself or someone else, but beyond that, the first half of this statement is my ethical commitment to you — you have the right to decided what to do with your life. Even as a therapist, that’s none of my business. What is my business, literally my profession, is the second part of that statement, “Do it on purpose.” So many times we make decisions based on habit or not understanding our environment or even our own motives; that’s where I come in. Clarifying what we can and can’t know, and how to go about approaching problems. Certainly this can involve teaching or guiding through interventions, but since I’m not the Wizard of Oz, that means these things are described, options are provided and you ultimately choose the direction. (Although it occurs to me that some of this is different with teens, but that will have to be a different blog.)

So between the two phrases, the first is a commitment to transparency, to the extent it’s possible, and the second is a commitment to your right and responsibility to make decisions in your own life.

Certainly some challenges call for a more structured approach than others, particularly when there are safety concerns involved. But in the end, whatever way a person decides to try to change will eventually call for some kind of experiment. There will be a point where someone has to try out some new way of thinking or acting and test whether it works better for them. If I tell them what to do, or manipulate them toward something and it turns out badly, that would be my fault. But even if it turns out well, my over-involvement has stolen from them the most important part of the process — learning how to do, rather than merely what to do.

And since I can’t help one last reference — this is how I see us making progress on the road ahead, exploring together, yellow bricks or not.