NíDara, who writes over at the Oaken Roots Hermitage, recently asked me:

I know a key part of devotional hearthcraft is that every activity is sacred, but how do you find a balance between internet stuff, daily responsibilities, and deity relationships, especially from a neurodivergent point of view?

Neurodiversity is, well, diverse. I can only speak to my specific manifestations of autism, ADHD, C-PTSD, and sensory processing issues. And to be clear from the beginning, my neurodiversities are in many ways a gift. I would not want to change much about how my mind functions, with the exception of being better able to process trauma. (Trauma deserves not only its own post, but its own entire book.) I’ve known most of my life there was something “different” about me, how I related to the world and other people, how I thought about myself, and my emotions. I just seemed out of step with everyone else, as though other kids had a playbook of how to navigate life and mine never showed up in the mail. Chaos and sensory overload, especially noise, overwhelms me. However, as someone raised female with strong language skills and the ability to mask my weirdness in most situations, I missed out on the answers until early adulthood. It was about the same time that I started verbalizing to myself hey, I don’t think I’m actually a girl? that I started reading experiences from folks online whose brains worked like me. I realized I wasn’t stupid, lazy, ditzy, or any of the other labels others (and myself) put on me. My brain worked differently. And when it worked, it really worked. But when I tried to force it to behave like a neurotypical brain, it physically and emotionally hurt me.

We don’t always have the luxury of living in a way that respects and supports our unique mental functioning. One of my first memories moving to NYC in 2016 was having a complete crying meltdown in Times Square-42nd Street station because it was too much. Too big, too unfamiliar, too loud, too cold. The years I spent commuting ~3 hours a day by subway were awful. So were the years I spent with unclear expectations and unfriendly social situations at the first full-time job I’d ever had. When we spend so much time trying to just survive in a world that doesn’t take neurodivergence into account, it’s hard to do much of anything but decompress or dissociate when you get home and wait for your battery to recharge before having to start all over again the next day.

So the first answer to NíDara’s question is to practice grace and patience with yourself. The social model of disability reminds us that the fault lies not in ourselves, but in the barriers society erects. There’s nothing morally wrong with you. You aren’t lazy – no one is, in fact, because laziness does not exist– but even if you were that’s okay because you don’t need to constantly produce and perform to justify your existence. We spend our lives soaking in the messages that we’re bad, worthless, or apathetic. Imagine those messages influencing you like water rings from coffee mugs on a wooden table. When we can address them immediately it’s okay and there’s not likely to be much damage, but what about the water rings left days, weeks, or even years ago? We are combating messages that says we do not exist and do not deserve understanding and compassion. Even if everything else were going 100% perfectly in our lives, that alone necessitates a level of care with ourselves we may not be used to taking.

At the core of devotional hearthcraft is ourselves and our connection with the worlds around and within us. When we show up, it’s with all parts of our mind, body, and spirit. There may be ways to adjust some of the discomfort and pain experienced so we are supported to do and feel our best. But even at our worst – especially at our worst – we are coming fully to our Beloveds and the spirits of our homes, and They are eager to know us in our totality just as we are Them. Within this framework, you cannot win at spiritual practice. It is not possible to ace devotion like you would an exam. Likewise, you cannot fail at it either. You just do. Your relationship with your Beloved will be one of late starts, forgotten deadlines, other parts of life getting in the way, distractions, worried, unexpected obstacles, and wandering attention. That’s true of all humans, but especially those of us who are neurodiverse. Those instances that feel like “failures” to us are, in fact, the path we are walking, and are our devotion, and are our lives in their entirety. I promise you your Beloved understands and loves you because of who you are, not in spite of it. (And if They don’t? Fuck ’em. It’s polytheism. Plenty of other fish in the astral sea.)

The meditation I practice is one of quiet noticing. When I realize the chattering monkey mind is running away with the rest of me, that’s the point of meditation, just as much as sitting in peace with calm thoughts. There’s not a sense of progress so much as process. I see you, mind. I see you, executive dysfunction. But can I see them without pushing them away because they aren’t “supposed” to be there? Figuring out this approach to meditation was illuminating for me and I find it very useful when I apply it to questions of spiritual devotion as well. If you want a regular practice and forget it sometimes (or often), you notice the lapse and give yourself permission to exist as a human in the world. That grace you offer yourself is just as much an offering to your Beloved as prayers, incense, or candles.

Once we get past this stage – of berating ourselves for being someone we’re not – there’s of course room to talk about new skills, new habits, new expectations with your Beloved. What if you want a daily prayerful practice, or you feel called to regular flamekeeping, or to read and process spiritual books, or just want to get some housework done in a semi-timely fashion? Then we can talk about strategies for dealing with executive dysfunction or emotional dysregulation. We cannot do it until we know what’s happening in our minds, and we can only do that if we first pay attention to what is actually happening, not what “should” be.

Tune in next time for a follow-up post that looks at this in a more practical light! Thank you NíDara for the question!