I’ve not been writing as much as I wanted to over the last few months. I’ve been taking time to process my adhd diagnosis and think about what it means for me.

I walk in the early mornings with my dogs and love an audiobook. Wintering by Katherine May shine a light on my soul in January and gave me the permission I so needed to hibernate a bit. I have spent years trying to put myself out there for others to see, helping and teaching and supporting others. I am temporarily in a job that (at least immediately) is none of those things. It’s quiet and private and allows me to work from home and manage the amount of time I spend with others. I didn’t know how much I needed it. It’s like remembering who I am without the public facing persona and I had almost forgotten her.

This quiet me likes to walk dogs with a coffee (remembering to consistently set it up on a timer so it’s ready at 6am is a huge achievement) and a podcast or audiobook then sit and write before 7am. She never misses her meditation because she wakes up well rested and without the panicked rumination of how she is going to cope with what the day throws at her. My days just now are to be enjoyed, not endured. I can read for pleasure, go out twice a week to sing with others and keep on top of basic household stuff. I’m a much more present and pleasant parent and partner too.

I don’t want it to stop and yet it must. I’m on a temporary contract that only has a couple of months to run. And so I am faced with heading back to a job I love but that doesn’t love me back. Maybe there’s an opportunity here to sit and have a think about what do I want my life to look like and how can I make small moves towards that?

Remaining with the Katherine May theme I then read Enchantment and have been looking for things that bring me peace and joy and magic which sounds incredibly hippy of me but is realistically just an extension to my list of Daily Delights that I started keeping after reading Ross Gay’s Book of Delights. Part of my issue was that I lived my life as though I was a box of mirrors and spent no time on the contents, scared to lift the lid for fear of finding it empty. I’ve been filling it with books and music and walks in nature and soft skeins of rest since the beginning of the year and it feels so good.

I’m not ready yet to show anyone else the contents of my secret box but I’m going to keep picking things up over the next few weeks and asking myself “does this fit inside”? It started with rest and so will I. I’m actively seeking out things that make me feel rested and working out how to use them as structures to create my days around instead of the other way around. I’m too important to be perpetually exhausted. I deserve rest and peace and it’s taken me 45 years to really know this.