In Greek mythology there are three goddesses known as the fates or Moirai. Their names are Klotho, Lachesis, and Atropos.
Klotho spins the thread of life, Lachesis measures out each segment for each of us, and Atropos cuts it when you have reached your allotted length.
You’ll notice that there is no fourth goddess checking on the quality of that thread, right?
And of these three goddesses, I place the blame for ADHD squarely at the feet of Klotho.
Yep, I’m looking at you, Klotho. No one told you to get out the tiedyed yarns, no one said to mix in the threads with no tensile strength, no one suggested we could make do easily with the tangled skeins.
But still, Lachesis isn’t helping. Since we got the low quality thread of life, maybe we could be assured of more of it? And yet, we very often end up with less. We’re accident prone and take risks that lead to less likelihood of survival, though I’m doing all I can these days to make sure I don’t meet Atropos before I absolutely have to.
I’m done dwelling on the length of my life. And I’m done carping about its quality. I realize that the ship of life is made from timbers that are hewn from lumber that I have a hand in choosing.
So, though I have only certain materials to work with, it is up to me to choose the best of what is available.
And I can’t do that, unless …
It’s not possible to select the best if I’m too busy grumbling about what I have to choose from.
So I choose not to grumble.
That’s not to say that I don’t pay attention to what is missing and what is wrong with what there is of life. I just don’t dwell on it.
I pay attention, because I have been made aware in my life that there are sometimes opportunities to change things. So I keep a watch on the bad parts of my life that are resultant of my ADHD and I assess options for change with an eye to how they will affect those less than desirable aspects.
And as to Klo, Lach, and Atro, they’re just part of the party, caterers if you will. And they’re only offering what they have available.
And I’ll take it. The alternative to a poorly spun thread of life isn’t necessarily a well spun one, it might be no thread at all.
So maybe my quality of life is hanging by a thread, but it’s still hanging, it hasn’t been cut … yet.