The EMDR Container Exercise: How to Set Worries Aside

The container exercise is an EMDR stabilization technique: you picture a strong container, like a vault or a chest, and place a worry, memory, or feeling inside it to set aside for now. Building one takes a few minutes the first time. After that, using it takes seconds, and it doesn’t erase what’s inside, only postpones it until you’re ready.

It’s 11pm and the same worry is looping again. Or you’re mid-meeting and a thought about something unrelated won’t let go. You don’t need to solve it right now. You need somewhere to put it down so you can get through the next hour.

What is the container exercise, and where does it come from?

“Container” is the common name for a stabilization script that EMDR therapists teach early in treatment, usually before any hard memory work starts. Katy Murray published a widely used version of the script in a 2011 clinical column in the Journal of EMDR Practice and Research. EMDRIA, the EMDR International Association, places it in Phase 2 of EMDR’s eight phases, the preparation stage where clients learn coping skills before touching anything difficult.

Murray describes the container as especially useful for intrusive thoughts, ongoing worry, and urges that won’t quiet down. Therapists also use it to close a session that stirred something up but didn’t fully resolve, so a client isn’t left carrying raw material home. None of that requires a therapist in the room; the same script works as a stand-alone coping tool for everyday overwhelm.

For the short version, see our glossary entry on the container exercise.

What do you need before you start?

Nothing special. A quiet minute or two and somewhere to sit is enough. Keep pen and paper nearby if you like; some people find it easier to sketch the image once and picture it from memory after that.

This is what EMDR calls a resourcing technique: a skill you build in advance so it’s ready when you need it, not something you’re inventing under pressure.

If picturing images isn’t easy for you, that’s fine. Build a felt sense instead of a picture: how heavy the lid feels, how solid the walls are, the click of a lock turning. The container doesn’t have to be visual to work. What matters is that it convinces you, in whatever sense that happens for you.

How do you build a container, step by step?

1. Settle for a moment. A few slow breaths, shoulders down, jaw unclenched. You don’t need to be fully calm, just steady enough to picture something clearly.
2. Picture something strong enough to hold what needs to wait. A safe, a bank vault, a heavy chest, a locked shed. Pick something that isn’t part of your everyday life; a kitchen drawer you open all the time won’t feel as secure as a vault does.
3. Add real detail. What is it made of? How big is it? What color? Specific beats vague: not “a box,” but the exact weight of the lid and the sound it makes when it shuts.
4. Give it a deliberate way to close. A lock, a combination, a guard standing watch, whatever convinces you it stays shut until you decide otherwise. This detail matters more than the container’s shape.
5. Notice what needs to go in, briefly. Name it in a few words: a worry, a memory, a replaying conversation. You don’t need to rehearse it or figure it out first.
6. Place it inside, on purpose. This is an action, not a wish. Picture your hand actually setting it down inside the container.
7. Close it and watch it happen. See the lid shut, hear the lock turn, feel the weight of it settling into place.
8. Check in with your body, then look up. Notice your feet on the floor, take one more breath, and let your attention come back to the room.

That’s a complete session. With practice, most people can run through it in under a minute.

One optional addition: give your container a short cue word, “the vault,” “the shed,” whatever fits, and say it silently as you close the lid. A cue makes the whole image easier to call up next time, so you’re not rebuilding it from scratch under stress.

Why does this work better than just trying not to think about it?

Telling yourself to stop thinking about something tends to backfire. In a classic 1987 study, people tried to suppress thoughts of a white bear for five minutes. Afterward, they thought about the bear even more than people who were never told to suppress anything at all (Wegner et al., 1987, in the Journal of Personality and Social Psychology). Pushing a thought away tends to make it louder, not quieter.

The container works differently. Instead of suppressing anything, you’re making a decision: not never, just not right now. That distinction, deliberately deferring your attention rather than fighting it, has research support outside EMDR too.

In a foundational 1983 study, people practiced postponing their worrying to a scheduled window later in the day. After several weeks, their daily worry dropped significantly, compared with people given no instructions at all (Borkovec et al., 1983, in Behaviour Research and Therapy). That’s a different technique, developed independently in anxiety research, but it shares the container’s core move: postponing isn’t the same as pretending.

How is a container different from a safe place or grounding?

A safe place invites calm in; you build a scene and rest inside it. A container does the opposite. It stores something distressing out of view rather than bringing in anything soothing. Grounding is different again: it anchors your attention in your actual surroundings right now, through your senses, rather than storing anything at all.

All three are resourcing skills, and most people end up using more than one. A common pattern is to ground yourself first if you’re rattled, use the container to set aside whatever surfaced, then return to whatever you were doing.

When is a container exercise actually useful?

A few situations where it earns its keep:

• A thought keeps intruding while you’re trying to focus on something else.
• You’re lying awake and the same worry is looping. See Can’t Stop Worrying? Give Your Mind a Different Job for an in-the-moment alternative.
• A self-guided bilateral stimulation session with EmEase, a self-guided EMDR app, brought something up that you’re not ready to sit with further. Use a container to close out the session, the way therapists close sessions in person, at app.emease.com.
• You have five minutes before something that needs your full attention: a meeting, a hard conversation, a drive.
• You want to end your day without carrying it into sleep. A container makes a natural last step in an evening wind-down, once the rest of your routine is done.

What if nothing feels strong enough to hold it?

This is worth paying attention to, not pushing through. If nothing you picture ever feels secure enough, or the contents seem to leak back out no matter how you build it, that’s often a sign the material underneath is heavier than a solo practice is built for. It’s a reasonable point to bring in a professional, not a sign you’re doing the exercise wrong.

The container was never meant to replace deeper work. Murray’s own writing is clear that it creates a helpful state change in the moment; it doesn’t reprocess anything. That happens later, across EMDR’s later phases, guided by a therapist, if the material needs it at all. Our guide on when to stop self-guided practice and see a professional covers that line in more detail.

For everyday worry, though, a container is a legitimate, well-documented way to get through the next hour without carrying everything at once. Build it once. Use it whenever the next thing shows up.