Friday, April 20, 2012

H is for Hyperactive

So many moments of stillness, of the calm breath before the storm. Pagans and magickal practices spend a lot of time on using stillness and focus. Meditation is something I've seen emphasized in one form or another repeatedly across disciplines and paths. It's frequently treated as the basis for spirituality and magickal practice. It is the beginning, and frequently the middle and destination as well. Stillness isn't cutting it for me.

As an adult with ADHD, stillness is not my ally.

Also, for me, hyperactivity is inextricably linked with attention (though not the other way around,) but hyperactivity is an issue in and of itself. I'm a fidgeter, even been called twitchy. The more I've studied meditation the more it's obvious: I need movement. I need to walk, flow, drum, or run. I walk and do Katas. I've studied some Tai Chi. I try to do these things, but continuing along such paths often proves costly, when really I'm just needing those tools to aid my focus, to release distraction.

Some might point out that my hyperactivity shows that I simply need more practice at meditative forms. And there is a truth in that. I do need more practice of stillness, of pushing through headlong, of challenging myself to this because it is a weak point and it would help me be more functional at a level most people take for granted. Long term, that is very true. Specifically, mindfulness is actually known to be something that really helps with ADHD. But more generally, meditation is about cutting through the distractions. Pretty much every basic meditative introduction talks about recognizing your distraction and letting it go, even if you spend the whole time simply recognizing one distraction after another, eventually one moves beyond that step. Yes, that would be very constructive in my life as well as my spiritual and magickal practices.

It doesn't help me get into the proper mindset for offerings or rituals in the here and now. Sure, making a journey across the water, taking a hike to a cave, and then doing a ritual would automatically get me into such a mindset. Not a daily option. My small alter in the corner of my tiny apartment isn't some grand temple. My neighborhood is concrete and streetlights. I don't even have a back yard. Mediation is all the more important to me then, because I can't rely on spacial cues anywhere near as much to help get me to where I need to be for devotions, work, and craft.

I could walk a labyrinth, except there isn't a public one nearby that would make that an option. Some day, I hope to be able to have one I could actually walk regularly. I could run, but my knees are terrible from old injuries and that would cause more problems than it would fix.

But there is a truth in running, in working like that. I'm a former competitive athlete, and the most successful meditative moments I've had were when being that athlete. Rowing was an obvious choice, the simple repetitive motions, following directions, I was not in charge and most of my mind was left to do other things. Except if my mind just wandered, I would end up gazing off into the distance or otherwise be obviously distracted and it would effect my entire boat. The balance would be off, I wouldn't realize we were on a power set, all sorts of things could go wrong. I had to stay focused, yet unengaged. More than anything though, was figure skating. I had to remember the obvious things, such as what move I was doing, the breakdown of how not to fuck up that move, and what move came next. I had to remember things like head up, smile, posture, to skate with power without speed. It was obvious when I wasn't focused, but when I was focused I would have told you I was thinking about nothing. The crowd was a distraction, that was acknowledged and let go. The judges (or coaches in practice) were a distraction, that was acknowledged and let go. I had to be aware of the other skaters on the ice, because with flying sharp blades on the ends of everyone's feet there was a lot of danger in being unaware, but I let that slide away with similar acknowledgement. I had to acknowledge those things, or they would surprise me and I would end up injured. Luckily the worst I ever got was a broken wrist.

Bringing that into my daily routine is difficult. I physically am not able to do a lot of it, not to mention time constraints. But I can still reach into that athletic past and bring out something useful. Movement. Motion.

In high school I complained I was terrible at meditating and trancing, which is odd because in many ways I did both as an athlete. I was terrible, at bringing those skills into other realms. Drumming is a good option for me. Repetition of motion, and the audio lends itself nicely to mindsets useful for all kinds of craft. Walking is a great option, even if it is just around the block once. Focusing on breathing, on the roll of one's foot, on the rhythm of step and lift, etc.

Most meditation out there focuses on a lot of the exterior aspects, and in ways that really are not helpful to fidgeters and doers. Sitting or standing. Staying still. Even the position matters. I'm not saying it doesn't matter and I'm not saying that those aren't very useful methods. But they aren't the only methods. Be it walking, Tai Chi, drumming or just chopping vegetables for dinner, there is meditation to be found in movement. So, if you're like me and can't sit still for useful meditation, remember there are other ways.

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