Navigating Public Tragedy: Holding Space for Complexity as Mental Health Professionals

 

In light of the recent, heartbreaking cases involving youth, I, like many of you, have been grappling with the public discourse and our role within it. The conversations are charged with pain, fear, and a desperate search for answers.

Several people I know, colleagues and members of the public alike, have asked whether the person accused of this heinous act is “psycho” or simply “mad.” As professionals caught between clinical facts and public sentiment, I’ve been reflecting on how we can contribute most effectively.

It’s tempting, when we see terms like “mental” or “psycho” being used flippantly, to launch into a corrective lecture. We feel a duty to defend the populations we serve, citing the robust evidence that people with mental illness are far more likely to be victims of violence than perpetrators. This corrective impulse comes from a place of deep care and professional integrity.

But I’ve been wondering if our most powerful role isn't to correct, but to connect and reframe.

The public’s use of the word “crazy” is rarely a clinical statement. It is a visceral, human reaction to an incomprehensible act. It is their way of saying, “A healthy, well-functioning mind could not do this.” And on that fundamental point, they are right. Our task is to honor that intuition while gently guiding it toward a more precise and less harmful understanding.

Perhaps we can begin by introducing a simple, crucial distinction:

We might think of psychological distress on a spectrum. On one end, there are what we could call “Broken Bones” – these are the clinical conditions like major depression, anxiety disorders, and schizophrenia. They are illnesses of the mind that cause immense suffering, most often to the person who has them. They are treatable, and they are not predictors of violence.

The acts we are witnessing now seem to stem from something different: a “Broken Moral Compass.” This is not an illness of mood or reality-testing, but a profound impairment in the very foundations of empathy, conscience, and impulse control. It is a catastrophic failure in a person's ability to see others as human.

Making a clear distinction between the two, in my opinion, can be significantly impactful. Why? Well, because:

1. It Protects the Vulnerable. By separating the “Broken Bones” from the “Broken Moral Compass,” we stop the unfair stigmatization of the millions of people living with mental health conditions. We protect those who are already suffering from being falsely seen as threats.
2. It Focuses the Solution. If we mislabel this violence as a symptom of general “mental illness,” we miss the real target. The solution for a “Broken Moral Compass” isn’t just medication; it requires a societal focus on early childhood intervention, fostering empathy, building resilience, and identifying youth who are developing these dangerous deficits in character long before a crisis occurs.

So, when we engage in these difficult conversations, perhaps we should begin with agreement:

“You are right to be horrified and to look for a disturbance in the mind behind this act. Let’s talk about what that disturbance really is, so we can truly understand it and work to prevent it.”

This isn’t about diluting our clinical knowledge. It’s about translating it into a framework that the public can grasp – one that validates their fear while directing it toward accurate understanding and constructive action. In holding these two complex truths at once, we can be a calming, clarifying voice in the storm.

In conclusion, I believe what may serve us better is an approach that:

• Frames our response as a personal reflection, not a rebuttal.
• Uses “we” and “us” to create a sense of shared personal and professional journey.
• Acknowledges the “corrective impulse” we all feel, making it relatable.
• Offers a simple, powerful metaphor the public can grasp (Broken Bones vs. Broken Moral Compass).
• Clarifies why this distinction matters, both for reducing stigma and for guiding real prevention efforts.
• Positions us, as mental health professionals, as guides and bridge-builders rather than correctors.

If this reflection resonates, I’d love to hear how you hold space for complexity in your own practice or conversations.

When Resistance Speaks: Knowing When to Push and When to Give In.

This morning, I found myself navigating one of those little modern inconveniences that somehow carry a bigger message.

I had planned to schedule my social media posts ahead of time – one version for Instagram, another for LinkedIn and Facebook. But then I discovered that Instagram doesn’t allow direct scheduling if you’re creating an IG Story. It sounds simple enough, but in that moment, something in me bristled as I thought, “We are in the year 2025 – a time where practically everything is automated – an era of technology. And here I am faced with an app that doesn’t allow for automatic uploading. WT…!”

I could feel the familiar wave of irritation rising – the urge to “bitch and moan” rather than accept what is.

I felt the pushback – the inner sigh, the quiet “Ugh, I don’t want to deal with this right now.”
My body chimed in too: “I’m tired.”
And my inner child? He wanted to “pout.”

I’m mindful that even our self-talk can easily slip into judgmental language – describing something (or ourselves) as being “lazy,” “immature,” or “unproductive” – or even “pouty.” But awareness is always the first step toward reframing.

Here we are again – that familiar crossroad between pushing through and letting be.

So, I did something I regularly advocate others do. I chose to pause. To listen. I gave myself permission to “give in,” not from defeat, but from curiosity.

Was this resistance, or was this my body’s wisdom asking for space to adjust? Actually, it was both.

In my work – and in life – this question shows up often. Whether it’s a client on the edge of a breakthrough, a parent deciding between discipline and compassion, or a leader balancing firmness with empathy – the perennial question remains: when do we push, and when do we honor the pause?

I’ve come to believe resistance isn’t always the enemy. Sometimes it’s an ally, whispering, “Wait – something in you isn’t aligned yet.” The resistance, the echo, the voice within isn’t saying “No. You cannot.” It’s simply suggesting: “Pause, breathe, then decide.” That’s awareness; that’s conscious, intentional choosing.

The voice is not necessarily telling you – go left or go right. It’s reminding you: it’s your choice – take ownership. And this, really, is what the NOW Process and Conscious Transformational Healing are all about.

Our body, our inner voice, the echo: is our internal mechanism (our adaptive response) helping us pause long enough to choose consciously rather than react automatically.
And the key here is exactly that – to consciously choose. To remember we have agency. There’s no right or wrong choice, only awareness in the moment.

Sometimes rest is avoidance; other times it’s exactly what allows clarity to emerge. What matters most is noticing that moment of choice – and honoring it without judgment.

Today, that choice meant stepping back, taking a breath, and allowing my system to catch up with change.

Tomorrow, it might mean showing up despite the resistance.

Either way, I’ll keep listening more deeply – because even resistance, when noticed with kindness, will lead us home.

Note to self (additional note I should say):
A lot of the insights gathered here - comes from my most recent book Human Struggle With Change: When We Resist and How To Thrive. That's not to say they only appeared after writing that book. But it seems to me - with each book I write, and at times with each coversation I have with my clients (especially my clients), I gain greater clarity on my values, my beliefs, and my practices. These help shape and strengthen my life in so many ways. That's what I call "evolution."

Additional-additional note:
With reference to the picture at the start of this blog - it is generated by AI (perplexity). Quite fascinating. It was even able to give me an "interpretation" for the image (provided below):

This illustration represents "Resistance - and when to push and when to give in" through several symbolic elements:

At the center is a person standing at a crossroads, symbolizing a moment of decision where one must choose a course of action. This reflects the internal struggle of encountering resistance.

One path has a strong wind pushing back against the person, symbolizing resistance, obstacles, or challenges that may require strength, persistence, and pushing forward. The forceful wind visually communicates struggle and opposition.

The other path appears calm and open, illuminated by soft light, representing the option to give in, accept, or yield when resistance signals that persistence might be counterproductive or harmful. The peaceful light suggests relief and acceptance.

The person's contemplative expression embodies the inner discernment needed to decide when to push against resistance and when it is wiser to give in or retreat.

Overall, this visual metaphor captures the dynamic tension between resilience and surrender, inviting reflection on the wisdom of responding to resistance with either steadfastness or flexibility.