It just fits so nicely. I had no idea that I needed this but I did.
Why did it take me so long to realize this?
I was sitting in ‘The Cardinal’ - that’s the name I’ve given the truck. On a warm spring afternoon, nothing could be nicer than slouching on the bench seat and listening to Willie Nelson on the radio.
For a moment, those newly familiar sensation of remorse and regret started to pop up.
No, I don’t regret not having a truck sooner. I just really appreciate this right now. The delayed gratification of realizing how wonderful it is owning a full sized pick-up makes this even better.
That was magic?
How do we turn regret, resentment and remorse into gratitude for delayed gratification?
With the truck, it was fairly easy. Not having a truck didn’t make life terrible. Not having a truck didn’t throw off my career, strain my relationships or fill me with a sense that I’m not acceptable. I didn’t miss out on a lot of things because I didn’t have a truck.
But now that I have one?
I just feel complete
The issue when it comes from turning the rotten r’s of resentment, remorse and regret into gratitude for delayed gratification is that it’s difficult to be grateful for knowing now about something that would have made life so much easier.
So. For those of you with any doubts:
ADHD is real.
It’s a neurological disorder.
It’s cronic.
It gets worse with complexity and stress.
Why are the numbers of people with ADHD exploding?
Part is likely better diagnostic criteria.
Some is potentially big phat pharma pushing their products.
But the other part?
We live in ways that alienate us from nature, from out nature.
Offices, cubicles, artificial light, line ups, traffic lights, standing in rows, intercontinental travel, the global news cycle - these human creations are deeply in humane.
It’s difficult to be grateful for a world of technology that over the last two hundred years or so has made my hunter optimized brain more obsolete.
People say, switch to love, leave the hate.
How?
Maybe it’s my developmental disorder, but how?
Living with an undiagnosed brain disorder is not like living without a truck.
Knowing how great a truck is, I feel whole. I feel complete. I have a sense in my truck that I’m exactly the person I need to be.
Knowing that I have a brain disorder, I can now treat myself with a bit more compassion than I ever did. I can now receive the kind of compassion that was never available.
Delayed gratification when it comes to externalities like trucks has made acquiring a truck that much better.
But delayed knowing that I have been mistreated due to global ignorance?
All logic leaves me. Any capacity for gratitude disappears from my soul.
I’ve been drained lately.
This thing has hit me much harder than I imagined possible.
Given that this foolsletter is dedicated to levity, resilience and creativity, I’ve been struggling to show up, process this all while serving you dear reader.
But I think that’s the point: It’s not easy. None of it is.
And even when things feel overwhelming, when we feel like hell has taken hold of our hearts, when we believe that all hope is lost, it’s still possible to show up.
The joke?
Life’s a fucking joke.
And right now, the joke seems to be on me. I’ve been shouting into the ether for people to accept themselves as they are.
I think I may have been begging myself to accept me. Or the world to do the same.
Though I’m not EXACTLY sure what that will be like, I have a inkling it will feel similar to sitting in the cab of that truck.