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Busy Mind, Busy Place

Hanging in the city …

I’m off on an adventure this weekend. I’ve returned to the city of my birth. Well, I’ve returned to the city that gobbled up the town of my birth, but even then it was hard to find the boundaries between all the big little cities that ended up being the Greater Toronto Area.

My country, Canada, is huge. And my province, Ontario, is bigger than many countries. And it is true that large chunks of it are less inhabited than most people are used to. And I live in one of those areas with reduced population.

It’s true I live in a city, and that the population has a density that makes my head spin a bit. That’s because I grew up in a tiny village in the country. (A former friend once told me I shouldn’t say “tiny village” because the word village already implies small, but I’ve seen villages and mine was extremely tiny.)

Big isn’t that big

But even the “big” city I live in now has nothing on this urban giant I’m residing in for the weekend.

Thanks to modern engineering, more people can live in a single block of this place than live in my neighbourhood. Oodles more. (Oodles is an engineering term, I think.)

And what are these people doing?

Well, mostly, they’re amazing me. Almost everyone has someplace else to be. They’re working, or going to work, or coming from work. They’re on their way to restaurants and bars and clubs and cafĂ©s, or they’re on their way home from work or those other places.

They’re walking and running and driving and cycling. They’re reading and talking on phones and texting and stuff. They’re meeting each other and then parting ways and meeting others. It’s like a giant dance of millions and the music is the sounds of the streets.

And how am I coping?

I know there are lots of people in this city with ADHD. They live here. Many thrive. Some do not. And I know that I could learn to live here, embed myself, learn the dance and learn to love it.

But even though I’m built to adapt and capable of learning and living and loving in any place I am, some of my wiring was installed at a slower pace and I’ve been acclimated to that life.

Just what am I trying to say?

I guess what I’m trying to say is, while I really love all this busy bustle, I’ll be glad when I get back home and can sit on the porch and kick my feet up on the table and just watch the clouds pass by.

Until then though, stand back. I’m a busy boy in a busy town and there’s some things that need seeing and doing.

I guess …

I guess you could say, if you’re looking for someplace to distract you, I think I’ve found it. This is going to be fun.

Busy Mind, Busy Place

Kelly Babcock

I was born in the city of Toronto in 1959, but moved when I was in my fourth year of life. I was raised and educated in a rural setting, growing up in a manner I like to refer to as free range. I live in an area where my family history stretches back 6 or more generations. I was diagnosed with ADHD at the age of 50 and have been both struggling with the new reality and using my discoveries to make my life better. I write two blogs here at Psych Central, one about having ADHD and one that is a daily positive affirmation that acts as an example of finding the good in as much of my life as I possibly can.

Find out more about me on my website: writeofway.

email me at ADHD Man

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APA Reference
Babcock, K. (2017). Busy Mind, Busy Place. Psych Central. Retrieved on November 16, 2018, from


Last updated: 9 Apr 2017
Last reviewed: By John M. Grohol, Psy.D. on 9 Apr 2017
Published on All rights reserved.