Running the Eye of the Needle: A Group Therapy Ritual for Emotional Hoarders

Saturday, July 5, 2025. This is for Hazel at UK. It’s also for KF. with thanks..

If you’ve ever sat in a circle of adults who’ve lost a spouse, or a child, packed up their childhood home, survived their parents, or outlived their regrets—you know what emotional hoarding looks like.

It’s not about being broken. It’s about being full. Too full.

And like a suitcase with a busted zipper, it just doesn’t close right anymore.

That’s where my Eye of the Needle Ritual comes in.

Inspired by that famous Gospel mic-drop—"It’s easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God"—this group exercise invites people to imagine themselves as spiritual millionaires.

Not in gold or crypto, but in emotional inheritance.

Some of it earned, much of it imposed, and nearly all of it overdue for sorting.

Here’s how to run it like a pro therapist—or at least like a well-meaning soul with a clipboard and a knack for asking hard questions gently.

What Is This Ritual For?

Great for:

  • Grief groups

  • Adult children of hoarders or emotionally distant parents

  • Retirees or folks downsizing

  • Trauma survivors with nostalgic identities

  • Spiritually stuck seekers who collect meaning like bottle caps

Best when group members already know each other—or all arrive equally awkward.

How Long?

  • 90 minutes to 2 hours

  • Can be split into two shorter sessions if your group likes to take their emotional medicine in sips, not shots.

What You’ll Need

  • Index cards (or slips of paper): at least 5 per participant

  • Pens, pencils, maybe a Sharpie for the bold

  • Small boxes, jars, or envelopes for each person

  • One big symbolic “needle” (poster board art, a hoop with a sign, even a doorframe works)

  • A cozy circle of chairs

  • Optional: background music, a candle, herbal tea, and enough tissues to suggest something important might happen

PHASE ONE: Set the Scene (15–20 min)

Say Something Like This:

“Welcome. You’re all spiritual millionaires.

Not in money, but in emotional stuff—stories, loyalties, regrets, identities.

Some of it is priceless. Some of it’s as useless as a screen door on a submarine.

This ritual is about choosing what you want to keep—and what you’re ready to let rest.

Let yourself be inspired by Matthew 19:24 (NRSV):


Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.

We’re going to find out what emotional wealth is actually worth carrying.”

Pause. Let them laugh nervously.

Then explain they’ll be writing down emotional "artifacts"—the clutter they’ve been carrying around inside.

Group Norms:

  • Share only what feels okay.

  • What’s said in group, stays in group.

  • Humor and honesty are both welcome.

PHASE TWO: Write the Clutter (15–20 min)

Give participants 5–10 minutes to write one emotional burden per card. Think:

  • Regrets

  • Roles (“the fixer,” “the invisible one”)

  • Pain that feels too precious to discard

  • Grudges that keep them company

Prompts:

  • “Something I can’t stop thinking about…”

  • “A story I’ve told myself for years…”

  • “An old loyalty I don’t know how to lay down…”

  • “A grudge that feeds me and starves me at the same time…”

Silence is fine. Nervous laughter? Even better. That’s grief stretching its legs.

PHASE THREE: The Choice (15–25 min)

Now comes the moment of discernment:

Pick one card—just one—that you’ll carry through the “needle.”

Tell them not to overthink it (which guarantees they will). The rest go into their personal envelope or box for safekeeping.

If you’ve got a visual “needle” in the room (poster, hoop, doorframe), invite each person to approach it and pass through with only their chosen card in hand.

What to say as they pass through:

“You’re choosing what to carry with intention—not because the rest didn’t matter, but because this one needs a voice today.”

This moment can be strangely moving. Give it some space.

PHASE FOUR: Group Reflection (20–30 min)

Once everyone’s through the needle, gather back up and invite reflection.

Questions to ask:

  • “Why this one?”

  • “What surprised you?”

  • “What does it feel like to leave the others behind?”

  • “What does this one card still want from you?”

Some will cry. Some will joke. Some will say nothing. All responses are valid—this is an catharsis of the ordinary kind.

PHASE FIVE: The Gentle Goodbye (10 min)

Close with something like this:

“We’re not throwing anything away tonight. We’re just saying: not all of me gets to ride in the front seat anymore.

We’re just practicing selective loyalty.

We’re learning what deserves to travel with us—and what can rest in the archives of who we’ve been.”

Encourage participants to:

  • Keep their “needle card” somewhere visible as a meditation

  • Store the envelope somewhere sacred—or at least safe

  • Consider writing a letter to one of the cards they left behind

Optional Follow-Up (1–2 Weeks Later)

In a follow-up group or individual session, revisit:

  • What’s changed since?

  • Did the chosen emotion soften or harden?

  • Are the “left behind” cards still tapping at the door?

You can also dive deeper into body awareness (“Where did I used to hold that?”) or into inherited narratives (“Who handed me this story in the first place?”)

A Few Notes for Fellow Therapists and Group Leaders

Keep your eyes open for:

  • Clients who confuse pain with identity

  • Clients who try to share everything (that’s a test)

  • Clients who shut down or go numb—normalize it; this is protective wiring

Remember:
While this group therapy intervention seeks magnified power with cultural and spiritual torque, you’re not the priest. You’re the bellhop.
Helping people check their bags before the flight they’ve been trying to board for years.

Final thoughts

My intention behind creating The Eye of the Needle ritual wasn’t about becoming a minimalist monk with zero baggage.

It’s more about becoming someone who knows what they’re carrying—and why.

We all get cluttered over time.

With sorrow. With stories. With junk we inherited and never questioned. It’s deeply, and profoundly human.

This ritual offers a gentle but necessary narrowing: a moment where your soul asks, “Do I really need all this?”

Bless your heart. If you’re a Therapist, or First-Responder Group Leader addressing this issue:

May your clients leave a little lighter.
May you, as their guide, carry only what you must.
And may we all walk through the needle with at least one hand free to raise in gratitude for the human experience..

Be Well, Stay Kind, and Godspeed.

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What We Keep: Untangling Physical  and  Emotional Hoarding in Kentucky Homes—and Hearts

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How to Talk to Your Kids About Your Partner’s Mental Illness: A Modest Guide for the Tender, the Tired, and the Trying