time(less)

Time blindness is the inability to feel the passage of time and internally manage it for the future. Our internal clocks are seemingly broken, always moving too fast or too slow. It makes being “in the moment” and, more importantly, aware of the moment nearly impossible. Our minds race to find the next stimulus. We must have anything to engage with, otherwise time stops. We are trapped in our own minds, clawing desperately for a way out. We risk getting lost in our own thoughts as we ricochet across ideas, philosophies, memories, and imagine the fantastical. Being present, especially in  moments between activities, can be near panic inducing, as we frantically search for a means to create dopamine*.

This is where I found myself while in Copper Harbor, MI on a quiet July morning. In typical ADHD fashion, I was existing in the present, instead of conscious of it, when I impulsively decided to take long-exposure photos of the sunrise. I was aware, but not cognoscente of the fact that there is no cell phone reception in Copper Harbor. My personal dopamine machine was disabled and I was alone with nothing to entertain my hyper-active brain while I waited in 30-second intervals for the camera to capture the image.

It was this realization that made me want to reconsider the discomfort of inactivity. I was surrounded by beautiful scenery and unable to find joy in it. I could almost hear my mind say off-handedly, That’s nice. Now what? The question rhythmically repeated itself in time with my heartbeat as I crouched on a rock, arms wrapped around my knees, waiting for the click to tell me I could snatch up my camera and see what I’d created. I was every small child who was told they needed to wait with patience, literally wrapping in on myself so I could keep track of my hands and body. If I wavered, I risked losing my awareness of the physical present and move on y awareness of the physical present and move on impulse — seizing the camera before it was ready. Admittedly, I failed a few times. I was the child stealing freshly baked treats before they were given proper time to set, resulting in burned fingers. My impulsivity resulted in burns of a different nature. Ghosted subjects were seared onto the frame as I moved the camera too soon, as I felt absolutely positive I had just missed the click to signify the allotted time had passed.

I cannot say this experience gave me some miraculous moment of clarity that suddenly cured me of my time blindness. What it did allow was for me to acknowledge it, be okay with it, and understand that while my brain may lack the same internal structures that allow for internal time-keeping, I am in no way broken.