Metaphorically Speaking: How Erickson, Bandler, and good practitioners let stories do the heavy lifting

Unlocking the right path through metaphor

Have you ever noticed how people often resist being told what to do, even when it is precisely what they need? It is one of the quirks of being human. The more you push, the more some part of them digs in, determined to prove its independence.

That is where metaphor comes into its own. Stories slip past the critical mind. They bypass the usual objections and allow ideas to take root in a way direct instruction never quite manages.

Milton Erickson and the art of therapeutic storytelling

Milton Erickson understood this better than anyone. He did not lecture clients on how to change. He told stories. Sometimes they sounded meandering or entirely unrelated. On the surface, it might be a memory from his childhood, an observation about farming, or a seemingly trivial encounter with a stranger. Beneath the surface, these stories were carefully crafted to seed new possibilities in the unconscious.

He once described telling a client a story as planting seeds, trusting that the mind would take what it needed and let the rest drift away. Erickson did not fuss over whether a suggestion would land immediately. He simply set the right conditions and allowed the unconscious to do its work.

It is much like walking through your own mental garden. Some ideas take hold straight away. Others lie dormant until the right moment. Then, almost by surprise, they sprout and flourish.

And let's not even go into the whole "My friend John" device he used to share metaphorical stories. Poor John, he had it rough!

Richard Bandler, confusion, and playful metaphor

Richard Bandler approaches this differently. Not so much gentle meandering as strategic disruption. He employs metaphor, as well as humour, confusion, exaggeration, and surprise. This is not done for its cleverness. It is to break up rigid patterns so new learning can slip in.

Bandler often tells practitioners to stop trying so hard to be profound and instead to experiment. Be playful. Let metaphors bubble up naturally from the client’s world. If you make it too neat or too planned, it feels like a stale script. We all know how well scripts land. Usually, they do not.

So rather than a polished fable about a bear who found the perfect bowl of porridge, it becomes about drawing from your client’s own language, their metaphors, and their patterns. If a client is into boxing, you speak in rounds and footwork. If they love gardening, you talk about roots and weather. That is how you create stories that feel authentic and land exactly where they matter most.

Not clever tricks. Not scripts.

Good metaphors in change work are not clever language tricks. They are not about rattling off polished parables. They are certainly not about memorising scripts. They grow from genuine listening.

You pick up on the words your client uses, the images that spark joy, and the stories they keep repeating. Then you feed that back in new ways, so their unconscious mind becomes more open to exploring fresh possibilities.

It is the difference between dropping a canned story on someone and allowing your words to become worlds, built from the very material of their life.

A simple hypnotic invitation

Just imagine for a moment you are walking through a garden you have tended for years. Some plants flourish with almost no effort. Others struggle, no matter how carefully you water them. Then, one morning, you spot a small seedling. Something unexpected. It did not need your plans or permission. It simply found a patch of sunlight, caught the right drop of rain, and quietly took root.

Notice how change often happens in the very same way.Not forced. Not scheduled.But emerging naturally when the conditions are right.

Why it matters in your practice

This is why metaphor is such a powerful tool in therapy and coaching. It gives clients space to arrive at their own insights. It avoids head-on resistance. It lets them rehearse change in a story, where the stakes are lower, and then carry that learning back into their real life.

When we use metaphors, we are guiding the client to transform their inner map of reality. The icons, the imagery, the journeys, and all the hidden embedded messages, including the ones we consciously intend and the ones the client creates for themselves, often without realising. Sometimes they discover meanings we never even thought of, yet somehow they are just right for them.

It is this redrawing of the map that makes metaphor such a powerful way to be a cartographer of the mind. Notice, that is a metaphor in itself. In essence, we are helping clients explore and revise their personal landscape, changing what roads are open, what landmarks stand out, and which old dead ends no longer matter.

When you trust your natural storyteller, the part of you that notices patterns and paints pictures with words, you stop trying to fix clients from the outside. Instead, you become someone who guides them to discover new resources within themselves, often without them even realising it at first.

Bringing it back to your work

So next time you feel tempted to reach for a favourite pre-packaged metaphor, pause. Listen a little longer. Let the client’s world inform the story. Let their words shape the images. Notice how naturally their mind opens when it recognises something of itself in what you are saying.

Because real change is rarely about clever lines or textbook scripts.It is about creating moments where your client’s unconscious says, almost with relief, “Yes. That fits. That is me. I can move now.”

Allow yourself to trust that process. Because when you do, your words become more than information. They become experiences. And experiences are what truly transform.

I'm Curious! What are your stories that you keep telling yourself that could do with a rewrite, some editing and republishing so you can turn a new chapter - Damn did it again! :)