The classic Japanese anime film My Neighbor Totoro written by Hayao Miyazaki and brought to life by Studio Ghibli, and now available on Netflix, poignantly depicts two young sisters, Satsuki and Mei, navigating a challenging chapter in their lives. We watch them move to the countryside with their father while their mother recovers from an unnamed illness, which brings a mix of excitement, uncertainty, worry, and sadness.
The film immerses us in the emotional turmoil of the children and the deep feelings running through the entire family which loom large, though often unspoken, as they try to navigate their situation. Miyazaki’s own mother spent a significant portion of his childhood in hospital due to spinal tuberculosis, which he has mentioned inspired the story, and perhaps explains the depth of emotion and empathy captured. Through moments of vulnerability, such as Satsuki’s attempt to stay strong and bear caretaking responsibilities while carrying her own fears, or Mei running off in search of the hospital but becoming lost and becoming frightened and terribly alone, the story allows us to feel the weight of their experiences.
The film gently helps the viewer empathise with how behind impulsive actions or signs of withdrawal often lies a child grappling with overwhelming emotions— their way of communicating; “I’m feeling things I don’t have the words for, and they feel too big for me to cope with.” It seems to give visual storytelling to the old adage we often find ourselves explaining as play therapists to parents and other adults in children’s lives that behaviour and play serves as a means of communication for children, and our job is to try and understand what the child is trying to tell us.
The importance of presence and being with
Totoro, a lovable imagined forest spirit, magically turns up when the girls feel most alone and provides comfort when their feelings become too big to manage. He doesn’t try to fix their problems, or tell them what to do. Instead, he often serves as a quiet, comforting presence alongside them during their most vulnerable moments.
In one of the film’s most memorable scenes, Totoro stands silently with the sisters at a bus stop on a rainy night as they endure an anxious, seemingly endless wait for their father’s return. Nothing is said, but everything is felt. As Totoro takes a deep, steadying breath, I found myself mirroring him, releasing the breath I didn’t realize I was holding—a poignant reminder of how another’s presence and calm can help ease the grip of anxiety.
This quiet act of presence is a powerful metaphor for the therapeutic role we often inhabit as play therapists, particularly when supporting children through turbulent times in their external worlds: not to try to rescue and solve the child’s problems, but be a calming presence, able to truly sit with their feelings so that they feel less alone and supported during times of uncertainty and worry. By working moment-to-moment to remain attuned and regulated in our own person as the emotions flow through us, we gently support children to find regulation in their own bodies and minds to be able to gradually express, explore, and make meaning of their emotions at their own pace. Simply being—present, empathetic, and attuned—can be profoundly healing for a child processing difficult emotions.
Holding space for complex symbolism
Like other classics such as the book Where the Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak, in My Neighbor Totoro the children befriend several figures which may otherwise appear monstrous and frightening, perhaps a metaphor for mastering and befriending the unwieldy feelings roused in them as they face parental illness and fears of death. For play therapists, My Neighbor Totoro reinforces the importance of creating spaces where children can process their feelings on their terms and through the symbols and imaginative content that speaks to them.
Indeed, the film also features imaginative figures which toe the line between friendly and eerie such as the Catbus with its wide eyes and fixed, exaggerated grin like the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland, that seems to rouse ambivalent feelings in the children. To me, this echoes something that we encounter as play therapists working with children grappling with a confusing, unpredictable world whose usual logics and certainties have gone awry. Ambiguous, disconcerting symbols often arise in play that perhaps convey the child’s internal confusion and complex anxieties.
As play therapists we recognise that imaginative, symbolic play often reveals what words cannot and a key part of our training and ongoing work is to be able to hold the uncertainties over meaning. We become familiar in holding and working with dualities and multiplicities, as children’s emotional conflicts may present symbolism and play scenes that may on the surface appear contradictory, yet often give expression to multiple feelings coexisting alongside each other.
Final thoughts: Play as a Pathway to Emotional Exploration
There is so much that could be said about My Neighbor Totoro. Like many great classics of children’s literature, this complex and multilayered film will resonate with each of us differently depending on our personal experiences and theoretical orientation.
Nevertheless, Mei and Satsuki’s playful, imaginative encounters with the world around them seem to powerfully convey for all to see how children use play and imagination to process emotions they may not have words for. Play therapy offers key tools to meet children where they are, and where children can safely project and explore their inner experiences, gaining insight into their emotional world. Like Totoro’s forest, the playroom offers a haven where children can freely express themselves without fear of judgment.
My Neighbor Totoro beautifully illustrates the importance of play and presence in helping children navigate big emotions, and how simply being attuned and present with a child is often more impactful, and supportive than providing answers or solutions.
Lucy Annison-Koskei (she/her) is a Play Therapist and expressive arts-based Psychotherapeutic Counsellor for Adolescents based currently in the UK. She is passionate about harnessing the power of metaphor and storytelling in therapy, creating spaces for children and young people to center the symbols and cultural references that resonate most deeply with them. Lucy is also dedicated to providing anti-ableist support to fellow therapists—particularly those using expressive arts—to share their wisdom and lived expertise across international therapeutic networks. You can learn more about her work at www.therapistsinsight.com.
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