of the art. It’ s one of the ways I adjust the level of‘ directiveness’ depending on each client’ s needs, preferences, and readiness. For example, when I give clients flower essence affirmations, I always ask whether the words resonate with them— and whether they’ d like to take the printout home. If I skip that step, it can subtly suggest that the success of the treatment depends on their completing something they don’ t relate to, simply for the sake of compliance. It shifts the focus away from the client listening inward and becoming aware of their own feelings— and toward performing a ritual that may feel empty.
That shift matters. It’ s the difference between helping someone deepen their connection to themselves and asking them to act out something that doesn’ t quite fit. In the end, my work isn’ t about directing someone’ s healing— it’ s about holding a space where their own clarity can emerge. The less I arrive with an agenda, the more room there is for their unique process to unfold. That’ s what makes each session not just effective, but deeply human.
Relational therapy- The Client is the Map
When we’ re alone, we can imagine ourselves to be anything. We can believe we’ re endlessly patient, unshakably kind, generous, wise. Nothing’ s challenging that self-image. But as soon as we’ re in relationship— with a partner, a colleague, a child, a parent— the truth starts to leak out. Our blind spots show. Our patterns activate. The way we relate tells the real story. That’ s why I see the therapeutic relationship not just as a frame for the work, but as the work itself. People are relational beings— we can’ t feel fully real in isolation. And in the presence of another, especially in a safe and attentive space, something meaningful begins to unfold.
It’ s hard to feel our own boundaries, contradictions, or stuck places until someone else is there— listening, reflecting, staying with us. That’ s when the edges appear. And as therapists, we can learn a lot by simply observing how clients show up in relationship: how they talk about themselves, how they respond to being seen, how they navigate closeness and distance.
The therapeutic relationship is unlike family, friendship, or romance— and yet it shares something essential with all of them: it’ s a human-to-human connection. And when it’ s grounded in safety, presence, and curiosity, it can become a space for profound healing. After all, trauma doesn’ t float in a vacuum. It often originates in relationship— in disconnection, neglect, or betrayal, so it makes sense that healing, too, must happen in relationship. We may not always find it in our everyday lives— not everyone has the luck of stumbling into a naturally therapeutic friendship or partnership. But in a clinical setting, the therapeutic relationship can be intentionally designed to offer what was missing: steadiness, respect, responsiveness, care.
I often find that the dynamics between me and my client reveal more than any intake form- not because I’ m psychoanalysing them, but because I’ m listening relationally. I’ m attuned not just to what they say, but to how it feels to sit with them. The shifts, the hesitations, the openings. Understanding pathology has its place, of course— but for me, it sits within a larger field: the relational field. That’ s the background in which everything else becomes meaningful. Whether or not I name it out loud, it’ s always there, shaping the work.
Different Approaches, Different Priorities From studying kinesiology to practising kinesiology As I said earlier— this is just my approach. There are many valid paths. The diversity of styles and perspectives is part of what makes kinesiology such a rich and evolving field. So rather than offering a template, I offer a reflection:
Where will you begin? At the body end of the spectrum? The mind end? Or somewhere in between?
If your lens is more body-first: 1. Identify the physical issue. 2. Understand the physiology. 3. Choose the appropriate procedure. 4. Follow the treatment protocol consistently.
If your lens is more mind-first: 1. Understand the person, not just the condition. 2. Meet them where they are. 3. Choose a procedure that fits this moment. 4. Stay consistent in relationship, even when the techniques shift.
This is where a practitioner must zoom in and ask: What exactly is my role with this client? What am I offering?
Some kinesiologists also practise herbalism, naturopathy, or have deep knowledge of hormonal systems. Their sessions might revolve more around the physical or biochemical needs of the body. Others might focus more on emotional processing, belief systems, or life transitions. Both approaches can be deeply supportive— but knowing clearly in what way you’ re helping makes a difference. It makes the session more focused. It builds confidence. It also makes it easier to choose procedures that are genuinely relevant, not just theoretically correct. Instead of defaulting to‘ what the issue requires’, you’ re guided by a deeper understanding of what your presence is offering. That clarity, in itself, is therapeutic.
So, how do I choose what to do? Studying kinesiology process
We’ ve covered the principles— but what about the moment you’ re sitting across from your client, unsure what to do next? Here are some questions to explore:
What kind of practitioner are you becoming? Are you drawn to symptoms, systems, or people? Some practitioners come to kinesiology from other fields— nutrition, bodywork, counselling. Their style builds on that foundation. Others are new, still finding their voice.
170 | vol31 | no3 | JATMS