My ADHD, however, does not love it--not one little bit, not at all.
You see, Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder is a friend of mine. He and I have spent lots of time together. Since childhood ADHD has gifted me with a nervous twitch in my foot and teary eyes anytime I have to sit still for too long. When I see the words "silent reflection" printed in a prayerbook, my inner-pastor thinks "yes, let's do this, let us be still so that we may know God." But the ADHD within me immediately argues--"let me get this straight," ADHD says, "you want me to be still, calm and quiet and you want me to think and be prayerful, at the same time. I don't think so."
Often we privilege the quiet, the stillness, the space without movement and words as somehow more spiritual, more holy, more inherently reflective.
The truth though, for my whole and embodied self, is that when I am asked to be still, it is the stillness, the lack of energy and momentum, that consumes my thoughts. My brain doesn't find peace in the stillness, my spirit cannot soar when I am consumed by the energy of rest. Silence is not where I find God.
This year I am trying to make space for stillness. I know that it is good and valuable and that there is much to learn in the resistance I feel rising within me anytime I try to pause for a moment. But I also want to celebrate what it is to be gifted with ADHD...ADHD is another way, a beautiful way, to be in touch with the holy. It is jumping from thought to thought, following flights of fancy and pursuing, whole heartedly, energy and enthusiasm.
So...let us be still so that we may know God and
let us run, jump, bounce and follow fleeting thoughts--let us do that too.
(my internal response to a request for silence often looks a bit like this.....)