Consonance Therapy Method

Why is the method called Consonance Therapy?

“Consonance” is my metaphor as someone who came to psychotherapy from a creative profession. Derived from the Latin Consonantia, it means harmony in music, a chord. It represents a state of balance, a natural resonance that is not only encoded in musical notes but also inherent in our nature. As social and biological beings, we are subconsciously driven to seek this harmony.

Art and Creativity Integrate Our Experience

By my first education, I am a teacher and choreographer. When I entered the field of psychology, I had extensive experience in developing methodologies and teaching. Like any art form, dance has an integrative function—it provides a sense of harmony. This happens because creativity engages all levels of perception simultaneously:

• At the rational level, one must understand what they are doing and why, follow methodologies, instructions, and plans.
• At the imaginative level, one embodies a narrative or image.
• Creativity always has existential meaning and is emotionally driven.
• At the same time, the body expresses ideas through specific movements in space and time.

For sounds to become music rather than noise, for movements to transform into dance rather than random gestures, for words to form a novel rather than meaningless chatter, or for a painting to evoke harmony rather than appear chaotic, the artist must understand and apply the laws of harmony, composition, and dramaturgy. Mastery also requires physical practice and fine-tuning of nuances. In short, one must be conscious, engaged, and methodical in the creative process while following a clear plan.

Chaos Creates Dissonance

This sense of harmony, structure, and methodology was absent in the ten psychotherapy methods I studied. The training often consisted of disconnected theoretical concepts and unrelated exercises, which therapists were expected to apply intuitively rather than logically. This lack of structure created chaos. Therapists had no system, no clear plan. It was often unclear where the process started or where it was headed. Theory was frequently disconnected from practice—one would watch an instructor work and then attempt to replicate it with clients.

Inside the client, chaos often reigns as a result of unintegrated traumatic experiences. Their thoughts, memories, fantasies, emotions, and behaviors lack logic and control. They struggle with everyday challenges, cut off from their innate creativity, which helps a healthy personality adapt to reality. Trauma locks people into stereotypes and complexes, leaving them in dissonance and suffering.

Clients turn to therapy hoping to “put themselves back together,” find clarity, and learn something new to regain control over their lives. However, the therapeutic process itself often lacks structure, predictability, and efficiency. Therapists might not know where to start, why they are doing something, or where the process is heading. They react to each story as it arises. Moreover, most methods focus on just one level of perception: one therapist analyzes, another works with the body, a third with imagery, and a fourth with behavior, often in separate sessions and locations.

This unstructured and unpredictable process becomes draining for both client and therapist, consuming excessive resources (time, energy, money) with unpredictable outcomes. Clients often leave therapy feeling worse, with unresolved problems persisting for years. This leads to disillusionment with therapy, burnout among psychologists, and a never-ending pursuit of new methods that only add to the entropy and stress.

Creativity Is Not Chaos

I often hear this process described as “creativity.” No! Creativity is not chaos or random actions.

Like most psychologists initially, I believed the narrative taught in various methods: that psychotherapy is a unique field where no clear guidelines exist, and it’s futile to search for them because each person and their story is unique. To be a therapist, they said, you need a special talent for combining techniques and intuitively asking the right questions. Every client, they argued, requires a different method in different situations.

In practice, this approach results in constant fear—of harming the client, of failing. Every session with a client becomes a source of stress for the therapist.

Structure and System Give Form to Content

My teaching background was my salvation. As a teacher by vocation and practice, I firmly believe:

• If we fail at something, it’s not because we’re untalented, but because we weren’t taught correctly.
• When education is logical, skills are honed, and questions are answered clearly, anyone can learn what interests them.
• Effective teaching requires organizing information methodically and breaking it into manageable parts that the learner (therapist or client) can grasp and replicate.
• Complex concepts should be explained simply.

From my background in choreography and pedagogy, I also knew that mastering a complex skill involves breaking it into simple steps, practicing each separately, and then combining them. Finally, extensive training is essential to refine the skill.

Consonance Therapy emerged as a response to this need for structure, method, and harmony in psychotherapy.