Containment: 1/3 - In Practice

1/3 - Reflecting on navigating containment within practice.

Welcome to my three-part series on containment—a subject too layered to fit into a single post! In this first part, I focus on containment within practice as I learn through facilitation and training. Part 2 will look at finding containment for the self, and Part 3 will explore sourcing it within the community and the challenges that may come with that.

What is Containment?

When I think of containment, I think of safety, protection, grounding, and boundaries, where these elements are felt and not forced. According to Oxford Languages, containment is "the action of keeping something harmful under control or within limits.” In practice, it is precisely that, and then some. Our clients' safety, confidentiality, and trust are paramount to producing a healthy therapeutic relationship, but the requirement to build a sense of containment goes deeper. The relational, socio-political, and even autobiographical aspects need to be considered.

What does Containment look like?:

Environmental - Is the space comfortable and safe? (Warmth, lighting, comfort, free from hazards)

Reliable - Am I dependable, punctual, trustworthy and consistent?

Therapeutic Relationship - Are boundaries and expectations clear? (Consent, goals, language, co-collaborative understanding)

Facilitation - Are there appropriate props, communication methods, and structure, and are they being heard/seen?

Approach - Am I being non-judgemental, authentic, openly curious?

Ethics - Is this safe, appropriate and consensual? (Touch, language, safety regulations, pacing, cultural sensitivity)

Socio-political - Are external realities affecting the client? (Home life, trauma, lived experience)

Self - Am I contained enough to practice safe practice? (Supervision, therapy, reflection, regulation)

Auto-biographical - How am I affected by this process? Are my boundaries compromised?

Beneath all of this lies a central question: Do they feel safe?

Providing containment in therapy is complex and goes much deeper than a 'safe space'. It requires empathy, understanding, and awareness of the individual's needs—all things that can be established through effective communication and experience.

Early lessons in holding

My earliest experience of being a container within practice was during my first term at UCLAN when I studied MA: Dance and Somatic Wellbeing in 2018 (moments before I embarked on Robyn's Honey Tour for a year!) We were practising an exercise within Mary Stark Whitehouse's Authentic Movement called 'Mover and Witness'. In this exercise, an individual moves, and their partner observes from a stationary distance - they do not join in the movement. Their key role is to witness and observe without judgment. This technique develops non-verbal communication, holding space for someone as they move freely, supporting deep body listening and the processing of stored emotions (Pallaro, 2000; 2007). This is a core example of how creating a vessel can nourish an individual's sense of safety and validation. You can read more about this practice in this book. Establishing how simple actions can help someone feel contained, supported and seen is an incredible practice. We literally sat by the wall and watched them. It is of great importance that we keep our gaze on them; they were the prime focus. It was about them! We fed back afterwards, speaking from the I (meaning what I experienced within my body), and I shared that it felt like someone had my back when it was my turn to move. I felt like I was being celebrated non-verbally just by being witnessed as I moved how I wanted to. Feeling seen and heard has power; being validated without needing to explain is one of the most profound experiences of being contained.

Later in the class, we expanded on this technique; instead of the witness being stationary, we acted as floating shields as our partners moved. We all moved together, roughly 12-14 people in the space. This had its challenges; I learnt quickly that to provide for their safety, I also had to manage my own by considering my proximity to my partner and the other pairs moving around us. The images of whirling dervishes surface or a funfair waltzer. However, they all move randomly instead of moving in the same direction. Overwhelming. The challenge became more extraordinary when the mover was invited to close their eyes! Naturally, the pace slowed down at this point, as moving with eyes closed is daunting and takes some getting used to - but it was still tricky. People move on the floor; some want a challenge and walk fast, and some are spinning. It was a lot but also a powerful lesson in protection. This experience definitely taught me how critical it is to keep myself safe to be able to provide safety. Additionally, exteroception is a fantastic skill and needs continuous exercise.

Ideas around personal boundaries, transference and maintaining my sense of self stay with this segment. Their anxiety and fear of not bumping into someone/thing (the wall) was transferred onto me. Though their trust was in my hands, my responsibility was to keep them safe; that was my job. Another layer to the complexities of containment.

Illustration

To support my learning, I gave myself a weekly reflective exercise for any relevant subjects or reflections. That week, I drew the following:

Titled: Container (Shaping Sensation, 2018)

Looking at this today, I see two entities — one slightly fuller than the other — actively holding space. There's a dance between roles: one releasing, the other containing. It reminds me that containment isn't static. It's a shifting, shared capacity, resonance, and responsibility.

It raises questions I keep returning to:

Do I have the capacity to hold today?

Does their safety depend on me crossing my own limits or boundaries?

Can I name what's mine and what's theirs at this moment?

What are my limits today?

Am I being honest with myself?

The Wounded Healer

Are you familiar with the Greek myth of the wounded healer? It's based on Chiron, a wise centaur and teacher accidentally wounded by a poisoned arrow. Despite his knowledge of medicine, Chiron could not heal his own injury, and his suffering became the source of his deep compassion and healing ability for others. Psychologist Carl Jung later adopted this myth to describe a core dynamic in therapy: a healer's wounds can become a wellspring of empathy and insight — but only if they have been consciously faced (Farber, 2020, p. 24). Jung wrote, "We could say, without too much exaggeration, that a good half of every treatment that probes at all deeply consists in the doctor's examining himself, for only what he can put right in himself can he hope to put right in the patient. It is no loss, either, if he feels that gives the measure of his power to heal. This, and nothing else, is the meaning of the Greek myth of the wounded physician" (Jung, 1951, cited in Farber, 2020, p. 24). You can read the story in greater depth and detail here.

Self Awareness and Reflexivity

So, to provide a well-rounded practitioner, lived experiences come significantly into the mix. Thinking specifically about being contained, experiences of this, and an experience of not having this can help deepen understanding and continue to build empathy and skills in what needs to be established within a session as well as outside of it. How do practitioners manage their own capacity to provide containment? How do transference and countertransference come into the mix? Also, what if somebody's need for containment compromises my personal boundaries? These are all questions that are established within regular therapy and supervision. Self-awareness and reflexivity are essential in building a therapeutic practice. This story of the wounded healer opened my perspective that therapists have such deep empathy developed from relational aspects. It speaks to managing your own capacities and being authentic with how the client's experiences may impact you because you don't know when their life events may resonate with your own, and it takes care to manage them healthily.

Transference and Countertransference

Furthermore, transference and countertransference are powerful attributes within a therapeutic relationship. Being careful that my own approach to their trauma has a risk of projecting my own feelings onto them if I'm not grounded or prepared for it - potentially compromising the trust and safety within the containment I am providing. Transference is when a client unconsciously redirects feelings, expectations, or desires from past relationships onto the therapist. Countertransference is the therapist's emotional reaction to the client, which may be influenced by the therapist's past experiences or unresolved material.

Professional practice

Brown and Stobart (2007) emphasise these points and validate that containment is created through actively constructed and clear, concrete boundaries such as time, space, money, and consistency—not just words or 'energy'. These factors build a framework for establishing safety, trust and emotional work. They speak on the details that some may forget; small changes such as switching appointment times or not having the appropriate props can trigger feelings such as abandonment, rejection or being 'uncared for". Referrals and terminations require gentle handling so the client doesn't feel discarded. Brown and Stobart continue to affirm the idea that wounded healers and self-aware therapists are critical. The therapist tracks their emotional reactions and wounds, especially when transference and countertransference can arise. They provide an example for this point of self-awareness: "The therapist also had to face her part in the event... With this patient, she had, unconsciously, sought to avoid being seen as a parent 'with a screw loose'…This unconscious denial prevented her from recognising that she was in danger of re-enacting the role of such a parent. This became real when she inadvertently locked the patient in with her (p. 44)".

Dance Movement Therapy

In Dance Movement Therapy: Theory, Research and Practice (Payne, 2006), Kenzie Penfield adds more layers to the concept of the therapist as a witness and creating a safe holding as a part of Dance Movement Psychotherapy. She speaks on how "time is an external boundary," and the practice structure provides boundaries within time, physical space, and the therapist's role - agreeing with Brown and Stobart's idea of the framework giving containment and the more intricate details around these. "The Form used for authentic movement is an open space... with her eyes closed for an agreed period... time is used as an external boundary." (Payne, 2006, p. 134). She speaks on the role of the witness holding a non-intrusive presence, which allows the client to explore freely while staying connected and held.

Closing Reflections

As a trainee, I wanted to start this series from my facilitation perspective and my thoughts as a practitioner. These experiences have taught me that containment isn't just about holding another but knowing when I can’t. Working with emotions, movement, and potential trauma is taxing - emotionally, physically and mentally. Being aware of transference and countertransference is essential for the safety of both parties. Being aware of self and capacity as a practitioner is vital. This is why being in regular therapy and supervision as a therapist is crucial for a profoundly reflective and authentic awareness.

Looking at the material and recurring themes — time, space, consistency, trust — it's clear that containment is not limited to therapy. We seek and build it every day, often without naming it.

But before we can offer containment to others—clients, friends, partners—we need to provide it to ourselves. We must know our boundaries and capacity and listen to our bodies as guides.

In Part 2: The Self, I'll explore what that looks like — and how we can practice self-containment as a living, daily act.