What Surprised Me Most During My EMDR Training

This week, I completed my EMDR training, and I've found myself reflecting on something that happened over and over again throughout the week.

People would finish practicing with one another, look around the room with a mixture of confusion and amazement, and say things like:

"That was so strange."

"It feels like magic."

"I have no idea why that worked, but something shifted."

It became such a common refrain that it almost felt like part of the curriculum.

As therapists, we spend a lot of time trying to understand why something works. EMDR has a growing body of research supporting its effectiveness, particularly for trauma and distressing life experiences, and there are compelling theories about what is happening neurologically during the process. Even so, there is something about experiencing it firsthand that is difficult to fully explain until you've been in the client's chair yourself.

The week reminded me that healing can sometimes happen in ways that surprise us.

The insights often arrive on their own

One of the biggest surprises for many people in the training was how little effort was required to "figure things out."

Before experiencing EMDR, it's easy to imagine that therapy has to involve analyzing every detail, searching for the right interpretation, or intellectually solving the problem. During many of the practice sessions, however, insights emerged spontaneously.

People would suddenly remember forgotten experiences. They would recognize connections between seemingly unrelated events. Beliefs they had carried for years would begin to soften without anyone convincing them otherwise.

It wasn't that someone handed them an answer.

Their own minds arrived there.

Watching this happen repeatedly across the room was remarkable.

The body seemed to know where to go

Another surprise was how often people's bodies became part of the conversation.

A tight chest would begin to relax.

A clenched jaw would soften.

Someone would suddenly become aware of tension they hadn't noticed before, only to feel it gradually shift as the processing continued.

As therapists, we often talk about the connection between the mind and the body. During the training, that connection became incredibly tangible. It served as another reminder that our experiences aren't stored solely as stories. They also live in sensations, emotions, and patterns of physiological response.

Small memories often opened very big doors

Many of us assumed the most emotionally intense memories would naturally become the focus.

Instead, it was often the moments that initially seemed insignificant that held surprising emotional weight.

A passing comment from childhood.

An experience on the playground.

A teacher's response.

A seemingly ordinary interaction with a parent or sibling.

These moments had quietly shaped beliefs about worth, safety, belonging, or competence. Once they were processed, people frequently noticed shifts that extended far beyond the original memory.

It reinforced something I often tell clients: our nervous systems don't organize experiences according to whether they seem objectively "big" or "small." They organize experiences according to what they meant to us at the time.

The brain genuinely wants to heal

Perhaps the greatest surprise of all was witnessing just how naturally the mind moves toward healing when given the right conditions.

Throughout the week, we weren't forcing insights or directing people toward particular conclusions. The process repeatedly demonstrated that the brain has an incredible capacity to reorganize experiences, integrate memories, and arrive at healthier perspectives.

That doesn't mean every memory becomes easy or every emotion disappears.

It does mean that the brain appears remarkably capable of digesting experiences that once felt stuck.

There was something deeply hopeful about watching that unfold again and again.

Leaving with even more curiosity

I left the training with new clinical tools, certainly, but I also left with a renewed sense of humility.

The human mind is extraordinarily complex. Our nervous systems are constantly adapting, protecting us, and searching for ways to integrate our experiences. Sometimes that process happens through conversation. Sometimes it happens through movement, relationship, or time. And sometimes, through a structured approach like EMDR, people discover shifts they never anticipated.

There is still much to learn about exactly how healing unfolds.

What this week reinforced for me is that healing is often less linear than we expect, more embodied than we realize, and more possible than we sometimes believe.

If you're curious about EMDR or wondering whether it might be a good fit for your own healing journey, I'd be honored to have that conversation with you. Every person's story is different, and one of the things I appreciate most about EMDR is that it honors the wisdom of your own mind and nervous system while creating space for lasting change.