Undiagnosed*
My mantra: finish what you started. Diagnosing my fluctuating attention span is irrelevant. Managing it is what matters. Half-way through some activity, like writing this, I'll interrupt myself with another, like making holiday travel plans. The chain can continue until, several activities later, I've failed to finish much of anything. One reason I keep this blog short is to impose focus. Form follows not only function, but capacity. Insight. Brevity. Finish what you start. Diagnosing neural divergence is, by some studies, growing exponentially. Divergent from what? Growing up gay, I painfully learned who defines "normal." Pursuing a multifaceted professional life helps me accommodate my leaping mind and restless creativity. It works until, like last week, too many strands converge and my well-cultivated balance tips into unhealthy stress. "Writing poetry thrives on interruption," a wise professor and poet once shared with me. The statement was a revelation, providing permission to not just continue, but to embrace my various departures of focus. Single session consistency wasn't the goal, but rather a consistent series of shorter spurts over time was what pushed a poem deeper, better, and to completion. The unconscious needs pauses to process. My consulting work benefits from the same approach, especially when supporting a client exploring something new or different. Perspectives need time to evolve. "Normal" is a straitjacket of someone else's making. Diagnosis can be a poor short-cut to self-awareness, like the career test I took in high school that indicated I should consider being a florist. Sort of right, but also very wrong. Finish what you start, but I also want to appreciate the friction and richness of all the interruptions along the way that provide a value, not without its burden, that enhances everything else.
*The son of a psychologist and a decades-long therapy client, I take mental health seriously. These views are solely from my experience and not intended to reflect that of others.
