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  • The Lost Art of Noticing: Unlocking Creativity and Connection

    The Lost Art of Noticing: Unlocking Creativity and Connection

    Rob Walker poses an interesting question that we all know but often forget: How much of your attention is being directed by others or the outside world?

    If you’re like most of us, it’s a lot. Just think about what happens when you pick up your phone. The algorithms have become incredibly skilled at delivering the kind of content we love to consume.

    We’re in a real battle for attention, often without even realising it. We’re losing without even knowing what we’ve lost.

    But what we’re loosing is our vital life energy. As William James said, “Our life experience will equal what we paid attention to, either by choice or by default.”

    Energy follows attention. What are we giving our life energy to?

    Without sounding dramatic or alarmist, it’s worth taking this seriously—not in a way that makes you feel guilty for scrolling through social media, but in a way that invites curiosity about another approach.

    Rob Walker’s idea isn’t to stop digital distractions altogether, but to re-engage our senses and make time to notice more than we usually do. Creativity relies on this kind of noticing—seeing what’s not obvious or what usually gets overlooked. That’s where the juice is. Can you become a “first-class noticer,” someone open to seeing what usually stays hidden in the shadows?

    Re-engaging our senses is also about reclaiming innocence—being open to seeing and experiencing the world through a child’s eyes. Here are a few key ideas from his book The Art of Noticing:

    1. Attention is a skill that can be cultivated.

    Walker argues that in a world filled with distractions, noticing is an intentional act of reclaiming focus. By training ourselves to observe the world deeply, we can enrich our experiences and uncover new layers of meaning.

    Key Idea: Attention is like a muscle—you can strengthen it through practice.

    2. Curiosity is the foundation of creativity.

    We can approach the world with a sense of wonder and openness (and be less defensive). By asking questions and exploring the unfamiliar, we unlock fresh perspectives that fuel innovation and creative thought.

    Key Idea: Noticing isn’t just about seeing more; it’s about seeing differently.

    3. Notice the overlooked and the ordinary.

    Walker emphasizes that the mundane holds immense potential for insight. Everyday objects, patterns, or moments often go unnoticed, but focusing on them can reveal beauty and provoke reflection.

    Key Idea: Transform the ordinary into the extraordinary through observation.

    4. Playfulness and experimentation lead to discovery.

    The exercises in the book are playful and non-linear, designed to break routine thinking. Walker believes that experimenting with how we engage with the world can spark new insights and make life more interesting.

    Key Idea: Treat noticing as a creative game.

    5. Slow down to see more.

    Walker advocates for slowing down and being present. When we rush, we skim the surface of experience. By pausing and giving our full attention, we can uncover the richness hidden in our environment.

    Key Idea: Depth of attention is more valuable than breadth.

    6. Build a personal practice of noticing.

    Develop a regular practice of observation. A range of things, from looking at shadows or listening to ambient sounds, to more abstract tasks like identifying patterns in strangers’ clothing.

    Key Idea: Make noticing part of your routine, like journaling or meditation.

    7. Noticing strengthens connections.

    By paying attention to our surroundings, we also deepen our connections to others, our communities, and ourselves. This creates a richer, more meaningful experience of the world.

    Key Idea: Attention fosters empathy and understanding.

    8. Attention shapes identity.

    What we choose to notice defines who we are. Walker suggests that by consciously deciding what to pay attention to, we craft our identities and our narratives.

    Key Idea: You are what you notice.

    Practice Idea: Seeing and the Visual Field

    The Edges of Vision

    Consider the story of the artist Georgia O’Keeffe. O’Keeffe famously focused on the “edges” of natural forms, painting the world not as it was typically seen, but as she experienced it—up close, magnified, and with heightened attention to subtle transitions of colour and shape. This is exactly the point: all that we miss can become a source of fascination, as simple and ordinary as it may initially seem.

    To expand your awareness of the visual field, focus on the peripheral and unnoticed aspects of what you see daily. This practice encourages observation beyond the obvious, cultivating a richer sense of presence and attention.

    Step 1: Orientation

    Begin by choosing a place to sit or stand quietly for 5-10 minutes. Ideally, this is a place you frequent but may not have explored visually with intention—a corner of your home, a favourite café, or a park bench.

    Take a deep breath and relax your focus. Let your gaze soften as you allow your eyes to take in the scene. Resist the urge to “look” for something; instead, let the scene come to you.

    Step 2: Periphery Play

    With your gaze fixed on a single point (like a distant tree or a spot on the floor), become aware of what’s at the edges of your vision. Ask yourself:

    • What colors or shapes do I notice at the edges?
    • Are there movements—subtle or obvious?
    • What textures or patterns emerge when I stop seeking and simply receive?

    Write down a few words or phrases that describe the sensations of observing the periphery, even if they feel abstract.

    Step 3: Subtle Transitions

    Shift your gaze slightly and notice what changes. For example:

    • How does the quality of light differ between the center and the edges?
    • What details come into view when you scan the space slowly?
    • Are there objects or elements that blend into their surroundings?

    Focus on the spaces “in between”—shadows, reflections, or places where colors merge.

    Step 4: Mapping the Overlooked

    Take a piece of paper or use your phone to create a quick sketch or description of what you noticed in the periphery. Don’t aim for accuracy; instead, aim to capture the feeling or impression of what was at the edges of your attention.

    Add notes about what surprised you or felt unexpected.

    Reflection

    After completing the practice, spend a few moments journaling:

    • How did this exercise shift your perception of the space?
    • Did you notice any emotions or thoughts arise as you focused on the periphery?
    • What might this say about how you navigate the world beyond your visual field?

    Remember, noticing is an act of curiosity and care. By exploring the edges of your vision, you open yourself to seeing the overlooked beauty that surrounds you.

  • Remembering

    Remembering

    Looking back to see forward

    To remember implies that there’s something we’ve forgotten—and this is often true. Being alive is synonymous with forgetting. In fact, you might say we’re born not just to remember, but also to forget.

    In moments that are too overwhelming, forgetting can become a refuge. It’s a survival mechanism—a way of pushing out what we cannot process in the moment. This ability, in many ways, keeps us sane.

    Aldous Huxley described this beautifully after taking an experimental dose of mescaline. He recounted how life-changing it was to see how much of reality the mind filters out. It’s easy to believe we see the whole picture, but this is never the case. As Anaïs Nin said, “We see reality as we are.”

    Yet, there are moments when we experience a sacred pause—moments that allow us to take in more than we ordinarily would.

    Huxley called this expanded awareness the “Mind at Large.” In that state, the mind operates without filters or preconceptions. It’s wide open to life as it is, revealing beauty in the simplest of things. During his experience, he noticed details—the colours, shapes, sensations, and sounds—that would ordinarily be lost in everyday consciousness.

    He said he would have been more than happy not to be anywhere else for a very long time. And that’s the practice: learning to rest in this place of being and be more in the remembering than forgetting.

    Just as we can open to what is here in the present, we can also turn this curiosity toward the past. And as we do, just like Huxley, we might see things in our past that were previously invisible to us.

    The Ghanaian symbol Sankofa depicts a bird flying forward while looking backward. It means “to go back and fetch it,” reminding us of the power in reclaiming lessons from the past. It invites us to honour our history, carry its wisdom forward, and create a future rooted in self-awareness and connection to our origins.

    Our most creative and empowered responses to life come from acknowledging and digesting what lies behind us—the difficulties and despair, as well as the joys, connections, and gratitude. To have a healthy relationship with the past is to come to a place where we can say, “I accept it as it was.” And it’s a continuous process—always beginning, never ending—just like any other relationship. Past doesn’t change but our relationship to it can.

    Part of this process is recognising how much we’ve pushed out—how much we’ve forgotten that might do us good to remember. This faculty of remembering is just as essential as the one of forgetting.

    If we don’t acknowledge what we carry from the past, we can’t fully access our creativity or live in meaningful connection with the present. The act of remembering allows us to reclaim these pieces of ourselves and weave them into a fuller, richer experience of life.

  • The Healing Power of Writing About Traumatic Experiences

    The Healing Power of Writing About Traumatic Experiences

    Trauma is an unfortunate part of life that touches everyone in some way. Whether it’s the loss of a loved one, a painful relationship, or childhood events that left a lasting impact, the weight of these experiences can feel overwhelming. What’s surprising is that one of the most powerful tools for healing might already be within our reach—writing.

    Writing about traumatic experiences is not just an emotional outlet; it’s a scientifically backed method of improving both mental and physical health. Numerous studies in the field of psychoneuroimmunology have shown that expressive writing can positively impact our immune system, reduce stress, and even change the way we think and feel about past events.

    Why Keeping Secrets Can Harm Us

    When we experience trauma, many of us feel the urge to keep it hidden. We might not want to burden others, or we might fear judgment. But holding in secrets comes at a cost. Psychologically, suppressing emotions can lead to increased anxiety, disturbing dreams, and even cognitive disruptions. Physically, keeping secrets is a form of chronic stress that can raise our heart rate, increase perspiration, and over time, weaken our immune system.

    It’s like a pressure valve—keeping trauma locked inside means our mind and body are constantly working to contain it. This internal work takes energy and resources that could otherwise be used to maintain our health and well-being.

    The Benefits of Expressive Writing

    On the flip side, expressing those emotions—whether through writing or talking—can relieve that pressure. Studies have shown that people who write about their deepest thoughts and feelings regarding traumatic experiences experience measurable health improvements, both immediately and over time. Their immune systems function better, they visit doctors less frequently, and they report feeling more emotionally grounded.

    But it’s not just about venting. In fact, simply “blowing off steam” without reflecting on what happened can sometimes make things worse. What makes expressive writing so effective is the opportunity to process, understand, and organize our thoughts and emotions. When we write, we translate our experiences into language, which helps us make sense of them. We can begin to see the event from different perspectives, reframe it, and eventually assimilate it into our broader life story.

    Scientific Evidence Supporting Writing

    A groundbreaking study involving college students revealed the profound impact of expressive writing on the immune system. Students who wrote about their deepest emotions related to a trauma showed enhanced immune function compared to those who wrote about superficial topics. These students’ health center visits also decreased, indicating that writing about traumas can promote physical health.

    The long-term benefits of this process can be even more impressive. People who engage in expressive writing often report increased self-understanding, emotional clarity, and even a sense of peace about the events they wrote about. As one study participant said, “It helped me think about what I felt during those times. I never realized how it affected me before. I had to think and resolve past experiences.”

    How Does Writing Help Us Heal?

    So, what exactly happens when we write about our traumatic experiences?

    1. Reduced Biological Stress: Holding back emotions requires mental and physical energy, which adds to our stress levels. When we express those emotions, the immediate stress response is reduced.
    2. Improved Cognitive Processing: Writing helps us organize our thoughts. When we put an emotional experience into words, we can process it more effectively. This allows us to understand it better, and, in turn, heal from it.
    3. Long-Term Emotional Insight: Writing forces us to confront the trauma in a constructive way. We gain insights into how the event affected us, helping us to process it and move forward.
    4. Integration of Experience: By making sense of the event through writing, we can integrate the trauma into our life story, reducing its hold over us. This doesn’t erase the pain, but it gives us control over how we think and feel about it.

    A Practical Exercise in Expressive Writing

    Now that you understand the value of writing about traumatic experiences, here’s a practical exercise to help you get started. You don’t need any special tools—just a quiet space, some paper, and a pen, or even your laptop. Follow the steps below:

    Step 1: Create a Safe Space
    Find a quiet place where you won’t be interrupted for about 20 to 30 minutes. It’s important to feel safe and relaxed when diving into emotional work.

    Step 2: Choose a Topic
    Think of a distressing or traumatic experience that has weighed heavily on your mind. This could be something recent or a long-buried memory. It’s essential to choose something you feel ready to explore emotionally.

    Step 3: Start Writing
    Set a timer for 20 minutes and write continuously. Don’t worry about grammar, spelling, or how well-written it is. The goal is to express your deepest emotions and thoughts about the event. Let the words flow, and allow yourself to be completely honest. Dive into the emotions—what did you feel? How did this event shape you? What were your thoughts during and after it happened?

    Step 4: Let Yourself Feel
    After writing, it’s normal to feel a bit emotionally drained. You may feel sadness or relief, depending on the topic. Remember, this is part of the healing process. If the writing becomes too overwhelming at any point, stop, take a few deep breaths, and return when you feel ready. You can also change the topic if needed.

    Step 5: Reflect
    After finishing the exercise, take a few moments to reflect. How do you feel now compared to before you started writing? Are there new insights about the event or your emotions that surfaced during the process? These reflections can help deepen the benefits of the writing exercise.

    Step 6: Repeat
    If you found this exercise helpful, consider repeating it over the next few days or weeks. Writing about the same event multiple times can often lead to deeper insights and emotional resolution.

    Final Thoughts

    Expressive writing is a powerful tool that can help us process trauma, understand our emotions, and promote both mental and physical health. The key is to approach the process with openness and honesty. While the initial experience of writing about difficult events may stir up emotions, the long-term benefits—including insight, healing, and peace of mind—are well worth the effort.

    Start small, be gentle with yourself, and trust in the power of your own words. You might be surprised at just how transformative writing can be.

    This post was inspired by: Pennebaker, James W.; Smyth, Joshua M.. Opening Up by Writing It Down: How Expressive Writing Improves Health and Eases Emotional Pain

  • Exiles and their burdens

    Exiles and their burdens

    When we think of exiles, they can feel distant and hard to grasp—and that’s exactly the point. The defining feature of exiles is that we are out of touch with them.

    However, I want you to see it from the perspective of everything being connected. It’s not as if, by contacting a protective part, we aren’t also touching an exiled part. Whether they know it or not, all our parts are deeply interconnected, even when they seem opposed to each other. They are part of the same system, and it’s our job to bring Self energy to remind them of that connection.

    This week, try to make your exiles more tangible. They don’t need to be extreme for you to notice them. Just be willing to meet what’s there a little more, as your protectors step back. This might look like spending an extra minute with a sensation, feeling, or thought you would usually try to avoid. The Enneagram can help point us in the right direction, but once you arrive, the task is to stay present with the raw data of experience—without getting caught up in the story you’re telling about it.

    Think of it like velcro: our stories and thoughts are often stuck to the sensations or energies in the body. For example, “Oh no, it’s that terrible tiredness again, I can’t take it anymore” is a story attached to a sensation. What we want to do is relax the story, come into the body, and, little by little, experience the energy of whatever is there—without interference. Simply notice it, and, if possible, stay curious. If you find it hard to do this, it likely means there’s a part you need to unblend from first. Half the job of unblending is recognising the part that doesn’t want to let you in. We might ask that part what its afraid of, and see if it will give you space.

    These are a few impressions of exiles by Alicia Larsen Dabney. Take a look through them and see if any move. You also may want to experiment with sketching/ drawing some of your own.

    What are Exiles in IFS terms ?

    In IFS, exiles develop as a result of painful or overwhelming experiences, especially when others around us couldn’t handle our vulnerability, vitality, or emotional outbursts. These parts are hidden away as a survival strategy to protect us from further rejection or shame.

    Exiles are parts of the self that carry vulnerable or traumatic memories, often linked to times when we were unable to express ourselves without consequences. They hold onto painful emotions like fear, shame, or sadness that weren’t accepted by others.

    Reasons for Exiling:

    • Vulnerability Rejected: Sometimes, when we showed vulnerability—such as sadness, fear, or neediness—caretakers or peers might have been uncomfortable or bothered by it. As a result, we learned to exile these vulnerable parts, fearing that showing our true emotions would lead to rejection or discomfort in others.
    • Vitality Suppressed: Other times, our natural vitality—expressing joy, energy, or enthusiasm—might have disturbed or overwhelmed those around us. Caretakers or peers might have seen our aliveness as too much, leading us to exile those vibrant parts in order to fit in and avoid being a source of discomfort.
    • Hurting & Rejected for Behaviour: When we were hurt and didn’t know how to manage our emotions, we might have displayed behaviours that triggered or disturbed others—or even ourselves. These behaviours, like lashing out or withdrawing, became further sources of shame, reinforcing the exile of the underlying hurt part.

    Burdens

    Burdens are the negative beliefs and emotions carried by exiles, shaped by early experiences of rejection or discomfort from others. These burdens are not inherent, but are taken on because the exile had to cope with the environment’s inability to accept their true feelings or expressions.

    • Common Burdens:
      • After being dismissed for showing vulnerability, the exile might carry the belief: “My emotions are too much for others” or “If I show how I feel, I will be abandoned.”
      • When vitality was suppressed, the burden might be: “I need to dim my light to be accepted” or “My excitement is a problem for others.”
      • If behaviours from emotional pain triggered others, the burden might be: “There’s something wrong with me because I upset others” or “I’m dangerous when I express myself.”

    Witnessing

    Witnessing is the process by which the Self—a compassionate, non-judgmental core within each of us—acknowledges and listens to the exiled parts’ pain. This step is essential for healing because it allows exiles to express their suppressed emotions without fear of rejection or shame.

    • Witnessing the Exile’s Pain:
      • When an exile feels witnessed, they can express how they were dismissed or shamed for showing their vulnerability. This is a chance for the Self to acknowledge that their vulnerability was valid, and that it wasn’t their fault others couldn’t handle it.
      • For those who exiled their vitality, the Self can witness their energy and enthusiasm, showing them that their aliveness is not too much—that it was simply the environment that couldn’t hold it.
      • For exiles burdened with shame from triggering others, witnessing allows them to release the guilt for behaviours that emerged from deep pain. The Self offers compassion for the fact that these behaviours were survival mechanisms, not flaws.

    Through this process:

    • Exiles that carry rejected vulnerability, vitality, or shameful behaviours can be witnessed with compassion.
    • Burdens like “I’m too much” or “I’m dangerous” can be released, freeing the exiles from the weight of past experiences.
    • Witnessing by the Self creates a space where these exiled parts no longer have to hide, allowing for healing and integration of those essential, authentic parts of the self.

    This approach helps to reclaim those aspects of ourselves that were previously hidden or rejected, allowing for greater wholeness and emotional freedom.

  • Firefighting Strategies

    Firefighting Strategies

    This week the main project is simply to witness and name your firefighting activities. You might bring  them in to your writing, and get curious about what they do for you, and when they get activated.

    The aim is not to reach some perfect place where we never watch Netflix again!  Its moderation and balance that we’re aiming for. So keep a look out for when you see your firefighters  in more extreme roles. Sometime its subtle, not so easy to see how you just lost 15 mins on Instagram,  or got  lost  in meaningless activity, people or food. There are countless ways they operate. But all with the same directive – make you feel better,  take you away from what you don’t want to experience  or feel.

    Recap on protectors and firefighter in the words of lead trainer in IFS, Tamala Floyd.

    “When we are born, our parts are in their natural state. In most cases, they are not burdened. They can express the full nature of who they are: playful, curious, calm, free, loving, to name a few. However, as children, when our needs for attention, affection, acceptance, and nurturance go unmet, are made fun of, or are denied, our natural ways of being become exiled. We learn that it isn’t safe to be fully who we are. We learn that parts of us are unlovable, not good enough, shameful, and should be hidden. Parts take on roles to protect us from feeling these strong feelings of worthlessness. They do this in one of two ways: They keep us from experiencing the strong feelings by controlling everything they can, keeping us too busy, focused on other things, or distracted to feel our unmet needs. Or, when something in our life triggers our feelings of not-good-enough or shame, parts swoop in to douse the severity of these feelings with intense distractions to take the attention off the emotional pain. We call both these types of parts “protectors.” Some protectors protect in a proactive way to keep us feeling secure and from feeling pain and vulnerability. These are called managers because their role is to manage our lives so as to protect us from pain. These parts make a vow to work relentlessly so we never experience the hurt we felt before they took on the job of protecting us.

    Carefree exiled her innate nature when she believed it was no longer valued. She searched around her to find what was of value and discovered that those closest to Carefree—her parents, teachers, and relatives—liked her most when she fit their ideal of her. By pleasing others, Carefree did not have to feel the pain of not being good enough. Her true self felt not enough to receive the love and attention from those most important to her. To ensure she didn’t have to feel that pain, she became what others needed and expected, and in return she received love and approval. Carefree decided that if she couldn’t be accepted and loved for who she was, she would contort herself into someone others couldn’t help but love, accept, and approve of. Here are a few examples of how managers operate. Parts may have learned to protect by being high-achieving, depressed, or perfect.

    The high-achieving part may believe that the only way to have value is to out-achieve everyone else, and if the person receives praise for the strategies of this part, the part’s beliefs and behaviors are rewarded. A part that is depressed may remain in a state of hopelessness to protect the system from feeling something worse, like shame. Another way managers may protect us from feeling inadequate is by pursuing perfection. The perfectionistic part may believe that if it does everything perfectly, we will always feel good enough and we won’t have to experience the pain connected to feelings of worthlessness. The parts in these examples use these strategies as an attempt to protect us by managing and controlling the external environment, people, and situations to ensure that the parts of us who have been wounded are not hurt again. We also have parts that protect in a reactive manner by extinguishing the pain once we are already experiencing it. We call these parts firefighters.

    Behaviours, beliefs, and strategies they have developed are automatic, and they believe there are no alternatives. These reactive parts use tactics like dissociation, overeating, self-harm, and suicidal thoughts or actions because anything, even if it hurts us in some way, is better than the overwhelming feeling of vulnerability. When vulnerability is expressed, a reactive part may employ dissociation to take us away from feeling exposed. In the part’s mind, it is more desirable to be mentally whisked away from a situation than to risk emotional exposure or harm. Another shutdown tactic of reactive firefighter parts is self-harm. When the pain of wounded parts gets triggered, a part who uses self-harm may spring into action. The focus is immediately drawn away from emotional pain to the activity of harming the body. In a more extreme case, parts with suicidal thoughts/ actions are protecting us too. Although this sounds counterintuitive, these parts remind us that if the pain becomes unbearable, we have a way out. The irony of parts with suicidal behaviours is they do not want us to die. They want the pain of living to cease and have no idea how to make that happen other than to kill us.

    Naturally, firefighting activities vary greatly, ranging from subtle forms of escape all the way to extreme behaviours like suicide. The Enneagram provides examples of typical protective strategies connected to each type. You may recognise all of these to some degree, but try to identify one or two that feel most primary for you.

    1. Reaction Formation (Type 1: The Reformer/Perfectionist)

    • Defence Mechanism: Reaction formation involves acting in the opposite way of how one truly feels, especially with impulses that seem morally wrong or “imperfect.”
    • IFS Firefighter Role: Firefighters help by overcompensating with strict adherence to rules or perfection, avoiding unacceptable impulses. Sometimes, they may use distractions like alcohol to relieve the intense pressure of being “perfect.”
    • Example: A person feels frustrated or angry but acts overly accommodating to maintain their sense of moral superiority. Later, they might drink alcohol to relax and escape the rigid standards they impose on themselves.

    2. Repression (Type 2: The Helper)

    • Defence Mechanism: Repression involves denying or pushing down personal needs and desires to focus on the needs of others.
    • IFS Firefighter Role: Firefighters repress feelings of neediness or selfishness, ensuring the Type 2 focuses on caregiving. To avoid dealing with their own unmet emotional needs, they may use sugar or sweet foods as a way to distract themselves and feel comfort.
    • Example: A person is exhausted but represses their own needs to care for others. Later, they might indulge in sweets or comfort foods to soothe themselves, masking their feelings of being emotionally drained or unloved.

    3. Identification (Type 3: The Achiever)

    • Defence Mechanism: Identification involves over-identifying with a role or persona, avoiding feelings of inadequacy by becoming the image of success.
    • IFS Firefighter Role: Firefighters push the Type 3 to focus obsessively on achievement and success to avoid confronting feelings of worthlessness. They might use excessive work or caffeine to maintain their productivity and avoid facing deeper insecurities.
    • Example: A person feels anxious about not being enough but channels this into working overtime and drinking large amounts of coffee or energy drinks to sustain the pace, avoiding downtime where feelings of inadequacy might surface.

    4. Introjection (Type 4: The Individualist)

    • Defence Mechanism: Introjection involves taking on negative emotions or judgments from others, internalising them as personal flaws.
    • IFS Firefighter Role: Firefighters step in by amplifying melancholy or dramatic emotional responses, distancing the individual from external criticism. They might use music, art, or excessive daydreaming to escape from feelings of worthlessness or rejection.
    • Example: A person feels rejected or misunderstood but instead of confronting these emotions, they retreat into listening to melancholic music or creating dramatic art to express their inner turmoil and reinforce their sense of being special in their suffering.

    5. Isolation (Type 5: The Investigator)

    • Defence Mechanism: Isolation means cutting off from emotions and others to avoid feeling overwhelmed or intruded upon.
    • IFS Firefighter Role: Firefighters encourage intellectual pursuits or extreme solitude to keep the person from confronting emotional needs or intimacy. They might binge-watch documentaries, deep-dive into research, or lose themselves in reading to avoid feeling vulnerable.
    • Example: A person avoids dealing with an emotionally charged conversation by retreating into an intellectual rabbit hole—reading or watching documentaries for hours—effectively distancing themselves from any emotional involvement.

    6. Projection (Type 6: The Loyalist)

    • Defence Mechanism: Projection involves attributing internal fears and doubts to external threats, avoiding feelings of internal insecurity.
    • IFS Firefighter Role: Firefighters constantly scan the environment for potential threats or safety concerns, protecting the Type 6 from confronting their inner anxiety. They might use obsessive planning, over-researching, or even conspiracy theories to distract from their underlying fears.
    • Example: A person feels anxious about their relationship but, instead of recognising their own insecurities, they begin obsessively researching all the ways relationships can fail, convinced that there’s an external threat they must prepare for.

    7. Rationalisation (Type 7: The Enthusiast)

    • Defence Mechanism: Rationalisation involves justifying impulsive actions to avoid confronting underlying pain or discomfort.
    • IFS Firefighter Role: Firefighters encourage the Type 7 to stay busy, using distractions like travel, food, or spontaneous activities to avoid emotional pain. They might use shopping, travel planning, or trying out new experiences to numb the discomfort.
    • Example: A person feels lonely but instead of sitting with that feeling, they plan a spontaneous vacation or go on a shopping spree, convincing themselves that they’re just “enjoying life” rather than avoiding their underlying sadness.

    8. Denial (Type 8: The Challenger)

    • Defence Mechanism: Denial involves rejecting vulnerability or weakness, often focusing on control and power.
    • IFS Firefighter Role: Firefighters reinforce strength and control to protect against feelings of helplessness or vulnerability. They might use excessive exercise, intense work routines, or even aggressive behaviours to avoid acknowledging any weakness.
    • Example: A person who feels emotionally hurt in a relationship might refuse to acknowledge their vulnerability and instead work out intensely at the gym or throw themselves into competitive activities, denying any emotional pain.

    9. Narcotization (Type 9: The Peacemaker)

    • Defence Mechanism: Narcotisation involves numbing out or avoiding discomfort by engaging in routine, mindless, or comforting activities.
    • IFS Firefighter Role: Firefighters encourage activities that numb the Type 9, like binge-watching TV, overeating, or procrastination, to avoid dealing with conflict or inner tension.
    • Example: A person avoids confronting an important issue in their relationship by binge-watching TV shows or snacking on comfort foods, numbing themselves from the discomfort of potential conflict.