The Wandering Mind and the Gentle Shepherd: How Therapy Helps Us Focus

Ever tried herding sheep in a storm on your own? That’s what attention can feel like some days.

You sit down to work or read or rest—and before you know it, one sheep (your thoughts) has legged it over the hill chasing a song lyric from a 90s Indie band you don’t remember the name of so you can’t google it, another is eyeing up what you’re having for dinner, and a third is arguing with an imaginary version of your neighbour about the fence posts. Meanwhile, the thing you’re meant to be doing? Bleating quietly in the corner, utterly ignored.

Focus, for many of us, doesn’t come naturally. It can feel slippery, hard-won, or just not there. And in a world that’s noisy, demanding, and full of flashing lights (literal and metaphorical), staying present is something of an act of rebellion.

But here’s the thing: your mind isn’t broken. It’s just doing what minds do. And therapy can help you understand that—and gently guide your inner flock back home.

Why Is It So Hard to Focus?

Attention isn’t just about willpower. It’s deeply connected to how safe we feel, what we’ve experienced, and what’s happening in our bodies.

When we’re anxious or overwhelmed, our nervous system gets jumpy. It scans for threats, flits from one thing to the next, and struggles to settle. Focus is a luxury your brain can’t afford when it thinks you’re under attack (even if the “attack” is just your inbox).

Johann Hari, in his book Stolen Focus, argues that it’s not a personal failure when we can’t concentrate—it’s a natural response to an environment that’s constantly demanding more of us than we can give. From the design of social media platforms to the fast pace of work and life, our attention is being deliberately fragmented (note the word deliberately - it isn’t just by accident!).

He writes:

“We are living in an attentional pathogenic culture—an environment in which sustained and deep focus is becoming harder for all of us.”

Hari doesn’t point the finger at individuals—he asks bigger questions about systems, values, and how disconnected we’ve become from the things that nourish attention: rest, connection, meaning, and space to think.

If your focus feels scattered, maybe it’s not a sign that something’s wrong with you—but that something’s out of sync around you. And therapy can be one of the few places that helps you gently piece that back together.

ADHD and the Frayed Threads of Focus — Especially for Women

In the last few years, there’s been a sharp rise in ADHD diagnoses—particularly among adult women. For many, the discovery comes as a quiet revolution. Lifelong struggles with attention, forgetfulness, emotional overwhelm, and task paralysis are no longer signs of laziness or being “too sensitive”—they’re finally understood as part of a neurodevelopmental condition that was simply missed.

Why? Because for decades, the cultural image of ADHD was loud, hyperactive boys bouncing off classroom walls. Meanwhile, girls who zoned out, daydreamed, or worked twice as hard to mask their disorganisation were often overlooked. Many women learned to camouflage their difficulties, internalising shame instead. Focus, for them, wasn’t just hard—it was entangled with perfectionism, burnout, and a gnawing sense of failure.

Now, with greater awareness and better diagnostic criteria, more women are receiving the language and recognition they’ve long deserved. But with that clarity often comes grief: for the years spent blaming themselves, for the strategies that no longer work, and for the deep exhaustion of trying to hold it all together.

Therapy can help here. Not by offering miracle solutions, but by creating a space to explore your unique rhythm. We can start to untangle what’s truly “you” from what’s been shaped by coping. We can hold space for both the reality of a differently wired brain and the emotional layers that have wrapped around it over time. And most importantly, we can begin to shift the story—from “Why can’t I focus?” to “What would help me focus better, more kindly, in the world I live in?”

How Therapy Can Help

Therapy isn’t about forcing you to concentrate harder. 

Instead, it’s about understanding what’s going on underneath the struggle. It’s a safe space to explore:

• What happens in your body when you try to focus?

• What stories do you tell yourself when your attention wanders?

• What unmet needs or emotions might be vying for your attention?

  
  

From a person-centred perspective, we’re not trying to “fix” your brain—we’re getting curious about what it’s trying to communicate. The core conditions—empathy (being met in your experience), congruence (your therapist being honest and human), and unconditional positive regard (you’re accepted, exactly as you are)—create a space where your nervous system can start to settle. A bit like a warm field where the sheep stop bolting (love a continuing metaphor).

With time, therapy can help you tune in more compassionately to yourself. That might mean learning grounding techniques, exploring how past experiences affect your attention, or unpicking the harsh beliefs you’ve internalised. Sometimes, it’s as simple and profound as someone saying, “That makes sense,” when you thought you were just being difficult.

From a psychodynamic perspective, the lens shifts a little deeper. If person-centred work asks “What’s it like to be you now?”, psychodynamic therapy gently wonders, “Where might that come from?”

In this tradition, a scattered mind isn’t just a nuisance—it’s a signal. A surface clue to something unconscious. Perhaps your distractibility formed as a defence when staying present once felt unsafe. Maybe as a child, tuning out was a necessary escape from emotional overwhelm or unpredictability. That habit (or part - we can name them together later) that was helpful then might still be running the show now.

Psychodynamic therapy holds space for these hidden patterns. It looks not just at what you do, but why—and how the past might be repeating itself in the present. Even in the therapy relationship itself: Do you avoid? Drift off? Feel irritated or idealise? These dynamics can offer gold when explored gently and without judgement.

This kind of work can be slow, curious, and deep. But it can also bring profound clarity. You might begin to see your attention not as broken, but as loyal—to an old story that’s ready to be rewritten.

Five Therapy-Inspired Tips to Support Focus

1. Name the Distraction, Then Come Back Kindly Use a soft inner voice. Instead of “Ugh, focus!” try “Ah, my brain’s hopped onto another thought—let’s come back.” This is mindfulness, not military precision.

   
   

2. Use Anchors A visual cue, a grounding object, or a short mantra can help you reconnect with your intention. Something like, “One thing at a time,” or even a stone on your desk can be your shepherd’s crook (crowbarring it in now..).

   
   

3. Tend to the Body First Attention lives in your body as much as your brain. Are you hungry? Thirsty? Do you need to stretch? Focus is hard when basic needs are unmet.

   
   

4. Set Gentle Containers Try “body doubling” (sitting with someone while you both do your tasks), a timer, or working in short bursts (like the Pomodoro method). Your brain likes a beginning, middle, and end.

   
   

5. Work With, Not Against, Your Rhythms Therapy can help you discover your natural ebb and flow. You might focus better in the morning—or late at night. You’re not a robot. You’re a living thing.

You Are Not a Broken Machine

In therapy, we begin to see that a wandering mind isn’t evidence of failure—it’s evidence of something that needs care.

Sometimes that care looks like slowing down. Sometimes it looks like grieving the pressure to always be switched on. Sometimes it’s playful—finding ways to bring curiosity and imagination back into tasks that felt like drudgery.

And often, it’s about reclaiming your rhythm. The one that suits you—not the one you think you should have.

If Your Attention Keeps Slipping Away...

…maybe it’s not because you’re lazy or flawed. Maybe it’s because some part of you is still waiting to be heard.

Therapy doesn’t give you laser focus overnight. But it can offer you a space to untangle the distractions, soothe the storm, and gently guide your inner sheep back to the safety of the present moment.