ADHD. The research has been intense, to the point where I’m like ‘wait, what am I actually trying to figure out here’. I lost the thread. I’m learning the pattern, my consistency in forgetting why I’m doing something or why I started and never ‘finishing’. Basically because I forgot – I dropped the firewood so I had free hands to go get more.
And is this such a big deal? According to society, yes.
The pressure I’ve put on myself to finish. And why? Because I’m not productive enough? I’m not progressing in a way I was told humans are supposed to? When I think about school, I remember the windows because I focused my attention towards and outta them, a lot. Noticing cloud formation and zoning into outside, that came easy. I was told I zoned out, but actually I was plugging myself in. The natural world settled something super primal within. I didn’t think that deeply into it then but as I still stare at the sky, I realise just how pacifying it is.
Retaining facts and figures, I just didn’t and still don’t give a shit about it.
and why is that important? Because when I stared outside, I got in trouble. “You’re focusing on the wrong thing!” But my brain didn’t think so. And why was my focus of attention wrong over someone who adores maths or logical thinking. AND the struggle has been REAL trying to focus on stuff that I truthfully don’t care about just because I wanted to ‘get’ somewhere. BUT that left me feeling so fucking stationary (and stationary SUCKS).
So in my deep-end dunk into ADHD, I came across a concept about ADHDers having a hunter gatherer brain. Wait, what!? Something clicked.
Movement, noticing tiny detail but not having to focus for too long, small sounds sounding MEGA (because that’s how you hear prey or predators), more movement, craving the danger and adventure (otherwise you’d never flipping go into the wild to find your food), intense focus from one thing to another to another in a super small time frame (checking your surroundings, what’s safe? What’s not?).
I’m adding here I’ve checked Instagram three times since beginning this piece and and also switched up my Spotify playlist.
And ya know what… I’m not even gonna give myself a hard time about it. I’m a fucking hunter, gathering for my tribe and my tribe need me.
There are so many ways we can reframe the beliefs about ourselves and the way we ‘fit’. My ADHD ‘diagnosis’ has been a revelation, in that I can dive more deeply and honestly into what works for me and what I’ve been doing that’s actually left me totally flat (which is a lot!).
The unexpected path… a dream for this wild hunter 🙂
A picture of me active in my favourite pastime… you’re welcome.
I don’t actually have anything inspiring to say here. I rarely have anything inspiring to say. Maybe I think that I’m not inspiring and those who know me would disagree. They may think me the most inspiring person yet fail to express this as how often do we say to people ‘you really inspire me’.
I don’t. As I write this I wish did. I think I will. I think I’ll make this part of my interaction dictionary…
“you’re incredibly inspiring”
Who would I tell?
Honestly? every one I guess. Who hasn’t inspired me. Even the person who I find annoying as hell has inspired me in many ways (and the whole ‘you can see in others the qualities you have yourself’… grrr, isn’t that a game-changer!)
So, Tuesday inspiration to myself is go and tell someone they’re fucking amazing!
Oh and bees inspire me daily… I drew a pic of just how much. You’re welcome.
The last few months…who am I kidding, the last 18 months, has got me assessing what freedom actually means, to me. I’ve not thought too much about freedom before as I realise the super privilege position I’ve been in. I’ve lived a life, be it not always within mental dynamics, that’s felt on the most part, free.
I could decided upon where to go and with who. Yes, I know we can get woven into relationships that once explored can have us questioning just how free we are around certain people, but without the intensity of that exploration, we can mainly choose our people.
So much has happened during this pandemic to send our nervous systems into a spin. Control has been taken away, we’ve been told how to behave and where to go and with who (or with no-one) and death, we’re exposed to figures and realisations, every day. I know you know this, we’re ALL in this. These experiences are not individual. This trauma has not just been affecting the separate self. It never has but we’ve liked to think it was. For centuries the notion of communicating our struggles and fears was kept ‘secret’. And as the world has begun to open up, due to whatever reason (social media, global connectivity etc) about just how complex and uniting our personal struggles are, we witness many of our anxieties and human responses to environmental stressors are indeed, shared. And now this global pandemic, this shared experience of restrictions and fear and doing things we’d have shook our head to a few years ago. Not only are we all in it, but we’re talking about it, globally, and maybe this is the most exposed we’ve ever been to collective trauma as information is instant now, from all corners of the world.
Within these restrictions and difficulties of feeling personal choices not being so personal anymore, something incredibly expansive has happened, personally (and probably to many others too).
My faith has strengthened, big style! My relationship with God is my favourite. My meditation practice has also lengthened (because there was literally fuck all else to do!) and I’m not sure I would have found out about my ADHD brain if I’d not had such an intense time of reflection. I live with my folks, and as a 39 year old living with both her parents, the struggle has been REAL. It’s also been super healing and I’m not sure I’ve ever felt so whole and surrendered as I do now.
I can’t even explain it as I’m under no illusion, I know shit is gonna get tougher . We’re not outta the woods, and maybe we never will be. Maybe humans are supposed to be in the overgrowth. With the trees and ferns and weird bacteria that live on EVERYTHING and because we can’t see it, we forget it’s there.
I know the mystics talk about freedom being within our faith. Within our relationship with God. And boy, does it take a leap of faith to say ‘God, I know NOTHING. You do. Show me.’ And then you’re shown this shit show of ‘difficulty’ because you weren’t flipping listening and you begin to listen and then this incredible thing happens… we get dunked into unexplainable freedom for literally a few moments until it’s gone again. Yet I have more and more faith it’ll be back, when God sees fit.
So freedom, it’s a funny thing. I feel so grateful to live in a time when restrictions from government still includes access to lattes and fresh fruit and chocolate (for now, anyway). I’ve not starved and my home has been a safe haven, which I know for many is not the case. Not even sure I care that I can’t go to many places as my brain doesn’t like too much choice anyway, it’s chaotic enough without adding more decisions! So I’m lucky. I’m privileged to be able to reflect upon freedom as the act of reflection itself and the time to do so is, in my eyes, freedom.
So, maybe my freedom hadn’t been taken away at all. I got to see just how flipping lucky I am to say ‘I can’t so this right now but I will. For now, I meditate’… as I write this, I’m becoming utterly aware of just how free I actually am.
Diving deep, what does Love even mean?
So, this Love word pops up EVERYWHERE.
All you need is Love. God is Love. Return to Love. We are Love. Love is our eternal being. I LOVE you.
And I love the word Love but what am I loving? The concept of love is super appealing, isn’t it. That we are beings radiating an energy that EVERY ONE is aspiring to feel or to be. That when we Love, it’s smooth. It’s a ride we’ve been lining up for our whole lives. We spend time, money, effort, we dedicate ourselves, often without conscious thought to this concept of Love and being in it or being it.
WHAT IS IT? Because I’m betting it means something for you that it doesn’t for me. And the feeling of it when we meet someone and we say those words, I love you, that’s tangible, isn’t it. It’s almost something we can touch and taste and the feeling is beyond overwhelming. Love songs and romcoms and poetry, we mostly resonate with the attraction thing. Lust, right. It gets in the way, or it is the way. I dunno but I fucking love lusting. I also know it’s not what we’re taught in spiritual teachings Love to be.
God is Love. Now, that’s not so tangible. And ALL the Love references in New Age stuff and quotes that float the internet like feathers in the breeze. That’s muddier. I get it, unconditional love. Really though, have we EVER loved unconditionally? Is it an unattainable concept… and is that the point, make it totally unattainable for the human and they’ll spend their whole lives feeling crap as they’re never quite getting ‘there’. Talk about guilt. Not just a catholic thing, huh.
And to not love things, material stuff as much as you love an idea, a concept, well they both feel as empty as each other if I’m honest.
So, what does Love mean?
Is it so fluid that it’s not meant to mean any more than it means to you in the moment you’re feeling it. And is it an expression, a momentary need, like when we graze ourselves and we scab. Love is the scabbing, the protection as cells come together and heal.
Love heals. We’re not in states of Love all the time. I can get so flipping angry some days and that’s bloody healing too. Anger heals. Imagine that. To not be afraid of anger, to see it as vital as Love. Is Love conditioning as we’re less likely to lash out. Less likely to disrupt others. To question. Oh, to question. Love is blind.
Humans have created the word Love. And like everything we create, it’s open to interpretation. I’ve Loved so hard I would fight for it. I’ve Loved so hard I would crack and die a little if I didn’t have it anymore. And I have. So, maybe Love is the container with ALL the other emotions. Or maybe Love is whatever the fuck you want it to be.
The more I read about neurodiversity, the more I wonder where the bar of normal is. Is there a brain, a neurotypical brain in a laboratory somewhere where ALL activities within our brain are compared against? How was the concept of normal structured and who, with what brain, decided upon the activities within a brain that would warrant a label if it were different from said ‘normal’ brain.
I know, a lot of questions for a Friday. Fridays are ease down days, getting ready for the weekend days. But who the flip developed the concept of weekends and working days anyway! As is apparent, I’m questioning everything.
As Seal said ‘we’re never gonna survive unless we get a little crazy’. The 90’s, my dream days. The days of my prime developmental growth. The days when I felt ok to want to be something ‘out there’. I used to visualise hitch-hiking across America, that was my dream. To live so freely that I didn’t own anything. And that felt ok. It felt do-able. Now, it doesn’t. I’m going a bit off topic here but the point is, I feel the concept of normal has become really narrow, hardly anyone fits it but it’s STILL used to measure our behaviour. Technology has much to with our modern concepts of reality, for sure. It’s opened up so much but narrowed the human existence also. The need for a phone and computer and tablet and WiFi and apps and SO MUCH SECURITY. I never remember my passwords and have to constantly reset them. I never understand why I can’t just talk to people and computer always says NO. So, back to this normal, neurotypical brain, are we consistently living within a constricted reality? If it wasn’t computers it was industry or some other way society was finding ways to ‘progress’. And is idealisation of normal purely compliance to rules within each and many eras of evolution? This then leads to capitalism but that’s another post.
And the irony is, it would have been the neurotypical brain that catapulted us outta one era, into another. It was the neurotypical brain that invented the machine, the computer. Medical advances – neurotypical thinking! And still today, ‘advances’ we’re seeing daily will be springboarding from neurotypicals. The artists, the poets, the novelist, the dancer… need I say more.
So, ‘we’re never gonna survive unless we get a little crazy’ is genius, the truest words. Thanks Seal! Crazy is what’s keeping the human existence beating. Crazy is the electricity that keeps humanity creating. Crazy IS our survival.
So, what’s normal anyway?
I don’t have kids.
I’m 39 and I’ve never tried to have children. I’ve said the reason for not having kids was not wanting them but the truth is, I have no idea about my fertility as I’ve never explored the prospect of birthing a little human! Until now.
I can feel my body changing, I can feel my hormones shifting, feeling a little peri-menopausal.
Recently my bleed is doing weird and wonderful things, one day of spotting and nothing for the next few days. This is the case this month, I’m sat here with an ache in my womb and feel absolutely knackered. My womb wants to release, I can feel this need to let the fuck go but it’s not coming easy. I bled a few days back on the new moon for an hour or so and then, nothing. I don’t know if this is lockdown side-effects, it’s been a whirlpool of all-sorts-of-crazy over the last year, of course my body will respond.
It could be the beginning of peri-menopause. This can continue for a good few years before menopause, an initiation into wisdom-hood. This is how I like to see it.
And if it is, babies may not be written in the stars for me. There is a history of early menopause in my family too, which I’m trying very hard to forget.
This is a hard pill to swallow. As a woman without a partner, I don’t have the ‘let’s try and have a baby’ option. I don’t know ANY men to ask if they want to co-parent and the route of IUI or IVF is way out of focus, having little £££ to my name. I never thought I’d opt for the medical route to get pregnant but honestly, if I had the money, I think I’d try. I don’t have a house to re-mortgage or a rich family member to go to for a loan. Life panned out VERY differently to how I’d imagined in my early 20’s. My mental health took a nose-dive in my late 20’s and it’s been a long road to recovery, which has been the most empowering and incredible journey but not without compromises.
I was able to move back with my folks to recover from severe anxiety and agoraphobia. Dating was NO WAY. I didn’t want to invest in anything other than myself. I’ve been able to write, paint, pray, meditate and move my body to health. This is wonderful but has taken it’s time and in doing so, through my 30’s, when my friends were getting married or having kids of their own, I was healing and craving no distractions.
I consider myself lucky that I’ve had time and space to explore my human make-up and deepen my faith, yet now, I think about having children.
Is there a little soul waiting to be born into existence with me as their mother?
I don’t know.
To be continued, I guess.
I’ve decided to write a poem
Trying hard to make it rhyme
I wanna be good at something
And find a way to pass the time
I’ve thought about many things
The subject? What could that be…
I close my eyes, I focus
Nope, nothing exciting to see
So what, right now, is important
What do I want to say?
Do I want to make a statement
Or brighten someone’s day?
To be honest, I don’t really care
If people are happy or not
As long as they’re ticking over
Not hurting people a lot
But maybe they are hurting people
Maybe I’m doing that also?
Shit, now I think of my life
LOVE… I could have done moreso
Have I said mean things in passing?
Things that were not meant to hurt
Have I triggered a response
Like flight or fight in the dirt?
What a quandary I find myself in
this turmoil, it’s thick and fast
I just wanted to write a poem
Not question ways of my past
So here, I’m writing these words
Caring little if it rhymes
As I seem to have quickly discovered
It’s distraction I need in these times
But would you Adam & Eve it
Rhyming ain’t hard to do
So I’m passing the time quite easy
Turns out I AM a poet too.