My ADHD means that I am less aware of myself and more aware of my current situation. And by current, I mean this very instant. I may be cleaning the kitchen or replacing the fascia on the front of my house, I might be doing my laundry or cutting the lawn, but my head is in this instant.
What does that mean?
While I’m doing these things, it is easy for me to get sidetracked, if I go to put the dishcloth in the hamper, thinking I’ll get a clean one and carry on, I’m likely to start sorting the laundry and picking up clothes from the bedroom floor.
I’m always in the moment, just not always aware of the moment before – or the one to come.
The big picture
I’ve recently thought that expanding my view might help. I try to see myself in the picture, thinking that putting myself there will help me visualize the desired outcome. It’s not easy.
I see the kitchen, the dishes, the unswept floor, the overflowing compost bucket, yesterdays linens, and I visualize the kitchen put to rights, but I’m not in the picture. Until now, I hadn’t visualized me cleaning it up. The missing part of the puzzle is the “getting it done” part.
Time is of the essence
I’m well aware that we have time management problems. Well, I do. And I know other people with ADHD suffer from this, I know enough of them that I’m comfortable saying “we”.
So I’m leaving time estimates out of this. If I can get to the point where I start cleaning the kitchen up and it’s done before I find myself changing the oil in my motorcycle, I’ll be happy. I’ll work on trying to figure out how long things take to complete when I can actually complete them.
So, here’s my plan, I’m sitting down to write a blog post about seeing myself. And I’m not just visualizing the post being done, I’m visualizing myself starting it, working on it, persevering and finally completing it.
Does this work? I sure hope so. But if it does, I may be more upset than if it doesn’t. Like my ADHD diagnosis, I’ll be unhappy that I wasted the first part of my life not knowing about this. But I’m going to try.
Maybe, but complicated attracts my mind, makes me pay attention, helps me focus.
When I was a youngster, in the good old days, I had no idea what ADHD was. And neither did my mother. She was in the habit of making games out of tasks. This often made a job more complicated, but it also made it interesting enough to keep me focused.
Those who can, do – and teach!
Until recently, I thought that she was just a clever teacher. And why shouldn’t she be? Her family was full of school teachers and, though she was not one herself, she was my life teacher and coach.
More recently, I’ve become aware of memories of my mother that ring familiar as more than just memories. They are behaviours and foibles that I’ve inherited, they are the definition of my ADHD. I think mom was teaching from experience.
And the one thing I can tell you about my mother is, she saw me. I and my brothers were her world. She did not spoil us, did not dote, but she taught us to love ourselves and invest ourselves in what we were doing.
Seeing is believing
The one thing she didn’t teach me was to see myself, or perhaps she tried, but as long as she saw me, I didn’t need to.
The Eastern greeting, namasté means many things, hello, goodbye, I greet you, I honor you; but recently it has come to mean “I see you” as in “In this hectic world where we rush by each other and barely acknowledge that there are others around us, I acknowledge you.”
Now I need to see myself in everything I do. Namasté Kelly. And namasté to you, my friends.