As a life coach with ADHD, I often preach the benefits of mindfulness and meditation to my clients. After all, these practices are hailed for enhancing mental clarity, improving emotional regulation, and promoting overall well-being. I’ve witnessed their transformative effects in others’ lives and wholeheartedly believe in their value. But here’s a confession: when it comes to my own meditation practice, I feel more like I’m chasing a squirrel through a chaotic forest of distractions than sitting serenely in silence.
For those of us with ADHD, the stillness that meditation demands can feel nearly impossible. Where others might find peace and focus, my mind bounces between thoughts like a pinball, making the simple act of quieting my mind seem as daunting as calming a storm. Yet, despite the struggle, I know that mindfulness holds great potential for those of us navigating the whirlwind of ADHD. The challenge, though, is in making it work for minds that aren’t wired to sit still.
This is where the real struggle begins.
Fighting the Urge to Move
Sitting still is easier said than done. I might create the perfect meditative environment—lighting a candle, playing calming music, and settling onto a comfortable cushion. But as soon as I sit down, the itch to move kicks in. Suddenly, my body becomes hyper-aware of every discomfort—an itchy foot, a stiff back, or the coffee table that suddenly seems to need repositioning. The urge to move is constant, making meditation feel more like a battle against my own body than a calming exercise.
The Endless Parade of Thoughts
Mindfulness teachers often talk about letting thoughts pass by like clouds. For me, though, those clouds are more like thunderstorms. One simple thought—“Did I send that email?”—can trigger an avalanche of related worries: “What am I making for dinner? What if a client cancels? Should I have said something different in that last conversation?” Before I know it, my five-minute meditation has morphed into a detailed mental planning session for the rest of my week.
There’s a paradox at play here. I know that mindfulness helps to anchor me in the present moment, yet focusing on the present can sometimes intensify the distractions. The more I try to settle my mind, the more it seems to resist, and it’s easy to feel like I’m failing at something that’s supposed to be so simple.
Frustration and Self-Judgment
As a life coach, I often feel an unspoken pressure to embody the habits I encourage my clients to develop. But my own struggles with meditation often trigger self-judgment. Why can’t I just sit still? Why is this so hard for me when I know it’s good for me? The inner critic grows louder, especially when the practice appears so effortless for others. It’s easy to feel like a fraud in these moments, as if my inability to meditate flawlessly means I’m somehow falling short as a coach.
Yet, I know that this frustration is part of the journey. For many of us with ADHD, self-criticism is an ever-present challenge, especially when we struggle with tasks that seem simple for others. The key is learning to offer ourselves the same grace we extend to others.
Reframing Mindfulness for the ADHD Brain
One of the most liberating realizations I’ve had is that mindfulness and meditation don’t have to follow a rigid script. The idea of sitting cross-legged in silence for 30 minutes might work for some, but for an ADHD brain, this approach can feel counterproductive. I’ve learned to redefine mindfulness in a way that actually aligns with my needs.
For me, mindfulness can look like a walk in nature where I focus on the sensation of my feet on the ground or the sounds around me. It might be as simple as a few moments of focused breathing between client sessions or paying attention to the sensation of warm water as I wash the dishes. These are brief, manageable moments of mindfulness that feel far more accessible.
Embracing the Process, Not Perfection
What I’ve come to understand—both for myself and my clients—is that mindfulness is about the process, not perfection. If my mind wanders during meditation, that’s okay. If I can only focus for a few seconds at a time, that’s still progress. Every time I bring my attention back to the present moment, I’m strengthening that mental muscle, no matter how short the interval may be.
Celebrating the small wins has been crucial. Did I manage to sit still for five minutes, even if I fidgeted the entire time? That’s a success. Did I notice my thoughts spiraling and manage to bring them back, even just once? That’s mindfulness in action. The goal isn’t a perfect, still mind—it’s the willingness to keep showing up, distractions and all.
Offering Grace to Myself and My Clients
One of the gifts that ADHD has given me is the ability to offer grace—to myself and to my clients. I know firsthand that every brain works differently, and what looks like mindfulness for one person may look very different for another. When I guide clients in practicing mindfulness, I do so with the understanding that their approach might not resemble a traditional one—and that’s perfectly fine.
Practicing meditation and mindfulness with ADHD is a journey of trial and error, filled with unique challenges. But it’s also a journey worth taking. As a life coach, I’ve learned that the struggles I face in my personal practice offer valuable lessons—not only for myself but for those I support. By embracing imperfection, finding what works for me, and practicing self-compassion, I’m learning to integrate mindfulness into my life in a way that honors my ADHD brain.
If you, like me, find traditional meditation difficult, remember that you’re not alone—and there’s no one “right” way to do it. Stay curious, keep experimenting, and find your own path to the present moment, whether it’s through stillness or movement. The journey continues, and every small step counts. Want some support on your journey? Book your first 30 minute session with me for free!