Becoming a bridge builder

I managed to meditate for around 10-minutes this morning.

Focusing on the mantra helped me to stay present, but I still found my mind wandering and at times working against me to try and force my eyes open.

People say it’s natural for the mind to wander while meditating. What’s important is that when you catch yourself doing it you simply recentre your focus on your breath.

I can’t help but believe the ADHD mind wanders further, faster and for longer periods undetected by the Self.

Will this affect the overall quality of my meditation? I guess I’ll never know.

Instead I should only focus on that which I can control.

If, however I was able to harness the hyper-focus I regularly experience doing all manner of other random things then I would likely reach enlightenment in about five-minutes flat.

When I first woke up this morning I was feeling anxious about the week ahead.

My meditation helped calm my mind but I can still feel the anxiety floating around.

That’s ok.

Anxiety is natural and to help it subside I should lean into it.

I recognise this particular anxiety. It’s the Monday morning fear.

A reaction to subconsciously feeling unorganised and unprepared for the week ahead.

Typically, as someone with ADHD, organisation and process are concepts which feel alien and unnatural.

In the words of the great Josh Homme, all I ever want to do is ‘go with the flow.’

One of my most common thought processes in all aspects of my life is,

‘I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it’, which basically means that present me isn’t interested, that’s for future Matt to worry about.

The biggest problem with that way of thinking, though, is that I’m betting on an existing bridge to cross when I get there – wherever ‘there’ is.

What happens if when I arrive there isn’t a bridge?

Instead a giant ravine or raging river blocking my route.

Then my narrative has to change to ‘how quickly can I build a bridge?’

More often than not I’m able to build a bridge pretty quickly, but it’s rushed and rarely sturdy, built in a frenzied panic by a workforce of one.

To make matters worse, the paths I choose to take in life are rarely well-trodden.

It is hard-wired into my ADHD brain to carve out new and unchartered routes by default.

This approach to life requires the ability to regularly build strong and sturdy bridges, intended to support the weight of many others after me.

I must also learn to map my journey, and observe the lay of the land that lies ahead.

What I need is a heron’s eye view from high above the ground.

For some areas of my life I can achieve this through meditation by learning to look down on myself.

Ultimately, however, I must create a robust framework for map making, bridge building and exploration in all areas of my life.