🌀 The Kind of Therapist You Don’t Expect to Find

April 11, 2025•3 min read

Todd Peyton doesn’t look or sound like most therapists.
He doesn’t carry a clipboard.
He doesn’t try to explain your pain in clinical terms.
And he’ll never tell you how to feel better in six easy steps.

What he offers is much harder to describe — and far more rare.

It’s presence.
It’s stillness.
It’s someone sitting across from you who isn’t trying to fix, solve, or manage you.
Someone who can hold the weight of what you haven’t been able to name.

Most of the people who find Todd aren’t in crisis.
They’re high-functioning. Grounded. Thoughtful.
On paper, they’ve done everything right. But internally? They’re unraveling.

Early Sensitivity, Long Before Language

(Optional image: Poetic natural imagery — “Child reaching toward light,” “Soft morning forest”)

From a young age, Todd was deeply attuned to things others didn’t seem to notice — subtle shifts in mood, the unspoken tension in a room, the symbolic weight of dreams.
He didn’t think of it as unusual.
He thought everyone could feel the same things.

But as he got older, it became clear that most people weren’t wired that way — and many were actively taught to tune those things out. That realization became the quiet beginning of a lifelong search:

How do you stay connected to what’s real and subtle — while still living in a world that prefers noise and performance?

A Dream and a Dharma

(Optional image: Symbolic imagery — “Old book and candle,” “Two hands passing light”)

Years later, Todd had a chance meeting with legendary Jungian writer Robert Johnson.
Todd shared a dream — a moment of raw symbolism — and something in that exchange shifted the course of his life.

Johnson, who had already retired and turned away countless students, invited Todd to study with him privately. After several conversations, Johnson told him:

“I see you as a successor. The King of the Inner World. This is your work now.”

It was a transmission — not of knowledge, but of responsibility.

Todd didn’t fully understand it at the time. But now, decades later, he’s living into it — not as a title, but as a quiet promise.

What the Work Feels Like

(Optional image: Warm, inviting interior — “Therapy room with dark walls and plants” or “Modern safe space”)

When clients describe what it’s like to work with Todd, the words they use are less clinical and more experiential:

“Safe in a way I didn’t know I needed.”
“I don’t feel like I’m being analyzed — I feel like I’m being accompanied.”
“There’s room for all of me here.”

His sessions don’t follow a rigid format. Sometimes they begin with a sigh, or silence, or a dream that won’t go away. Sometimes it’s the body that speaks first — through tension, collapse, or restlessness.

And sometimes, it’s just two people sitting in a room while something starts to soften.

“I don’t diagnose. I don’t give homework. I meet people where they are — not where I think they should be.”

Not Everyone Is Ready

Todd’s work isn’t for everyone.
It’s not fast. It’s not flashy. And it doesn’t promise a breakthrough on your first visit.

But for those who are tired of performing their healing —
for those who’ve tried everything and still feel off —
this kind of space is more than therapeutic.

It’s necessary.