Cooling The Heat : The Therapeutic Power of Reflective Pauses

“Therapy can stir up a range of difficult emotions.”

“It can be uncomfortable at times before it gets better.”

“It’s not linear – the graph is not always upward.”?

These are some things we tell clients when they first come into therapy. But somewhere, as therapists, maybe we need to hear this too.

Striking While The Iron Is Hot

As an early career therapist, I often felt an unspoken expectation: each session should produce a tangible result. It wasn’t that I was constantly giving advice or trying to fix things, but there was a pressure to “do” something—provide clear insight, suggest a tool, or wrap up the session with a neat little bow.?

Despite knowing the importance of silence and holding space, my anxieties took over when clients looked at me expectantly. I worried that long silences would make the client uncomfortable or detract from the session’s productivity. This pressure, while well-intentioned, led to overcorrecting.??

When a client anxious about their career walked through my door looking for answers, I realized things needed to change. Every session they laid down multiple career opportunities they thought of in the week, each bringing a new wave of anxiety. In response, I mirrored this urgency, offering a slew of strategies—grounding techniques, psychoeducation, and anxiety-management tools. But it never quite landed, and I felt like I hadn’t done enough.?

My urgency was counterproductive. I was striking while the iron was hot – jumping in when emotions were at their peak. I was unable to recognize that the client was too overwhelmed to absorb anything I offered. What they needed was a space that allowed things to unfold naturally.

The Shift: Striking While the Iron is Cold

The real shift happened when I discovered the concept of striking while the iron is cold—rooted in Irvin Yalom’s teachings. Yalom’s view of therapist and client as “fellow travelers” navigating a shared journey resonated with me. He emphasizes the importance of the present moment, helping clients understand their immediate feelings and behaviors. "Striking while the iron is cold" encourages slowing down, regulating emotions, and truly understanding the client’s perspectives.? Previously, I felt like I was just waiting for the client to finish their part so I could jump in with my two cents. But this approach left me feeling exhausted and often led us to circle back to the same issues repeatedly. Through Yalom’s teachings, therapy became less about delivering quick solutions and more about fostering trust and understanding. Rather than acting in moments of high emotional intensity, I started stepping back, allowing space for emotions to settle before engaging in deeper exploration.?

With the client from earlier with career anxiety, I often felt stuck—constantly brainstorming as if racing against a deadline, unable to move forward. Then, one day, I said ‘It seems like we’re in a rush, trying to solve everything at once. But what if we paused and just sat with the uncertainty?’ This led to a shift. We slowed down — discomfort surfaced without the urgency to fix it. Instead, we started exploring what drove this need for constant action. Over time, the client began to look inward. The sessions became less about solving problems and more about understanding them. We’d sit in the discomfort together – sometimes in silence – and let emotions settle. This not only gave me the time to observe, understand, and connect the dots but also taught the client to self-soothe. The space we created allowed us to see things more clearly.

Striking while the iron is cold is not about being passive or withholding support, it’s about how and when to support. Embracing this approach has brought me a sense of relief. It’s a reminder that therapy isn’t about constantly performing or producing outcomes. It’s about creating a space to explore, reflect, and let the process unfold. By trusting the slow, meandering journey, we create lasting transformation, not only through action but through our patient and attentive presence.

For therapists, this approach requires regulating our anxieties. There’s an eagerness to fill silences or rush to provide reassurance, especially when clients are distressed. Grounding myself and resisting the urge to “fix” things has allowed me to foster a genuine therapeutic relationship. It’s a practice in patience: trusting that even in sessions that seem uneventful, something meaningful is unfolding.

The Long and Winding Road

Striking while the iron is cold might not seem like a big revelation, but it prompted a lot of introspection for me. I’ve come to see therapy less as a straight road to a destination and more as a winding path full of twists, turns, and the occasional detour. When we slow down and strike while the iron is cold, we create space for clients to explore at their own pace. Today, I feel more in sync with clients. They are also better equipped to sit with reflections from therapy. The urgency to deliver insights fades and the resulting connection fosters authenticity. Managing expectations—both the client’s and my own—has been crucial. I’ve found that addressing this early on, explaining that therapy isn’t always about immediate progress, sets the tone for a long-lasting journey.?

Lastly, I’ve found that the very advice we offer clients—that growth isn’t linear and that discomfort is part of the process—applies just as much to us as therapists. We’re all on this winding road together, and sometimes, the most powerful thing we can do is let the journey take its course.