Collin Hansen

I remember working with a woman whose husband had repeatedly betrayed her trust. She lived in constant fear that it would happen again.

As we talked, something remarkable became clear. Her fear wasn’t her enemy. It was trying to protect her. If she stayed on high alert, maybe she could prevent being blindsided again.

The problem was that while her fear was trying to protect her from future pain, it was causing her pain every day in the present.

I remember another client who was furious with his wife.

I asked him, “Do you really want to be angry?”

He looked at me and said, “Yes.”

“So what do you hope your anger accomplishes?”

He thought for a moment and replied, “Maybe she’ll finally do what I want.”

“And then what?”

“I’ll feel better.”

His anger wasn’t really about anger. It was an attempt to feel better.

Then there was a teenager who spent most of his life avoiding people. School felt overwhelming. Relationships felt overwhelming. Life itself felt overwhelming.

As we explored his experience, he realized that avoiding life was his attempt to avoid stress. Unfortunately, while it protected him from uncomfortable situations, it also left him isolated, discouraged, and afraid to engage with the world.

Fear and overwhelm often arise in an attempt to protect us from future pain.

Frustration often arises when we’re trying to change or control what is happening around us.

These strategies make perfect sense. They are logical attempts to feel better. The problem is that they often produce the very experience we’re trying to escape.

As you’ve been reading this, you’ve probably been doing something without even realizing it. You’ve been observing your own experience.

Maybe you’ve thought, “That sounds like me,” or perhaps, “I’m not sure I agree with that.” Either way, you’ve been looking inward.

Observation is at the heart of my approach. It is through observation that we discover what emotions are, how they are formed, and what they are trying to accomplish.

As we begin to observe them more clearly, something surprising happens. They become less frightening.

Like waves in the ocean, emotions naturally rise and fall.

The more clearly we observe them, the less we feel the need to fight them, suppress them, or run from them.

Instead of trying to control our emotions, we begin to understand them.

With understanding comes a different relationship with our emotions, and often, a deeper sense of peace.

Over the years, I began to notice the same patterns repeating themselves regardless of why someone came to therapy. Whether they were struggling with anxiety, relationship conflict, betrayal, grief, or simply feeling overwhelmed by life, the process of emotional suffering followed remarkably similar patterns.

That pursuit eventually became Kirutz (pronounced Key Roots).

Kirutz is the framework I use to help people understand the root of emotional suffering. Rather than focusing solely on managing symptoms, we seek to understand why those symptoms exist in the first place.

As that understanding grows, many people discover a deeper sense of peace, clarity, and freedom, even when life remains difficult.