Yarrow supports sensory processing issues by helping those with hypersensitivity better discern/sort through the nature of sensory input coming in to prevent overwhelm, and by enhancing sensory perception for the hyposensitive.
I have so much to say about yarrow, and I have found that plants really make it impossible to stay “on-topic” since they always defy the boxes we try to put them in. A plant this versatile can be worked with for all sorts of physical and emotional issues, so keep in mind that here I will mainly just be addressing a small portion of what it has to offer as a support for neurodivergent folks. If you are going to remember one thing about yarrow, perhaps it should be that it embodies opposites. It may seem unlikely that a person who is hypersensitive could benefit from the same plant that a person who is hyposensitive would. I mean, a person who is feeling too much is in a very different place than someone who is feeling too little. And yet…yarrow is helpful for both. When I first read about yarrow’s ability to enhance the senses I was wary. Even though I also read that it provides energetic protection and seals energetic holes in the body, I just wasn’t sure I wanted to feel any more than I already do. But I eventually gave in and made myself a strong cup of tea on a quiet evening when I wasn’t at much risk of getting overwhelmed by sensory input. And then I got it. What yarrow did for me was help me discern the input I was receiving. To be able to sort through it better. That was the enhancement. You could also think of that as a filter. Rather than just giving me more input to process, the ability to discern what was coming at me actually prevented overwhelm. When you have too many things thrown at you at once, the tendency is to just duck and cover in case anything flying towards you is actually dangerous. But if you are able to discern what is actually a threat and what is completely harmless, you stay calmer. You hold your ground. You open up more without feeling knocked over by every little thing coming your way. In the book Pacific Northwest Medicinal Plants, Scott Kloos advises: “If you feel overwhelmed when entering a room full of people, take small doses of yarrow leaf and flower tincture to strengthen and firm your energetic boundaries.” I do agree with this idea of yarrow as a form of energetic protection. I have come to think of yarrow as my ‘sunshine shield,’ and I am not the only one to think of it as a sunny plant. The flowers are yellow/orange in their center, it blooms right around the summer solstice, and you will feel noticeably warmer when you drink it. For these reasons, it is sometimes used as a substitute for St. John’s Wort in blends, as St. John’s Wort should not be taken by anyone who is taking pharmaceutical drugs. The warming aspect of it can be paradoxically cooling as well, in that it can ultimately break a fever by helping the body to release heat. If you drink it on it’s own and it is very fresh, it may feel quite warm and strong. For my daily tea, I like to balance the intensity out by mixing it with herbs that are cooling. After dabbling with different combinations for a while, I finally landed on a blend I call “SensitiviTEA” that includes selfheal and hawthorn mixed with yarrow. These three herbs work synergistically and are especially suitable for those of us on the hypersensitive side, offering energetic protection and helping the body dial back overreactive responses. All three of these herbs also calm the heart and can be useful to those prone to palpitations. But what about those who are on the hyposensitive side and need support in feeling more? Yarrow is going to be helpful to those folks as well. Kloos goes on to describe how the same small doses that you might take for energetic protection will also open the senses to enhanced visual acuity and auditory perception. Of course, the more hyposensitive you are, the higher the dose you might need, but it would be an extremely gentle way to start connecting with more in your environment (as compared to like, a psychedelic mushroom trip or something). As for what to pair it with for the hyposensitive, I might start off with other stimulating herbs like rosemary or ginger (if that individual would benefit from warming herbs like these). It would really depend on the individual’s constitution and would need to be customized for their particular needs, but a stimulating herb would be the place to start. Keep in mind that even something as seemingly ‘harmless’ as ginger can have serious drug interactions if taken frequently in large doses, so don’t get too adventurous if you are blending for someone taking pharmaceuticals unless you are well trained in this area. There are so many ways to use and work with yarrow, and so many of them are beneficial for those of us who are neurodivergent! If you have found yarrow helpful in your life, leave a comment below and let me know how you worked with it and how it went. MY PLANT PERSPECTIVE: This is not medical advice. Plant medicine and wildcrafting have been my biggest helpers for emotional regulation and physical well being as an autistic woman. I am a serious plant lover, but I am not a doctor or clinical herbalist. Plants are complex, so do your own research (especially if you take pharmaceutical drugs as there can be possible interactions). Like people, even if plants check all the right boxes for you, you may not have chemistry with that plant so be willing to experiment. I’d love to hear from you in the comments below if you have discovered your own Neurodivergent Plant Helpers and are open to sharing your experience. Thanks for reading. REFERENCES Kloos, Scott. (2017). Pacific Northwest Medicinal Plants. Timber Press, Inc. Holmes, Peter. (2007). The Energetics of Western Herbs: A Materia Medica Integrating Western & Chinese Therapeutics. Snow Lotus Press. Would you like these posts delivered directly to your inbox each week? Subscribe for free on Substack: arikarapson.substack.com
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If you have autism and/or alexithymia, this simple exercise will teach you how to navigate your internal states like a pro.
For those of us who spend a lot of time in our heads—whether we’re analyzing data, pouring over books, or deep diving into our special interests—our bodies and our emotions can seem a murky and baffling place. We may be totally fine, and then seemingly ‘out of nowhere’ we have some kind of outburst that makes no sense. Or people ask us how we are feeling and it’s hard to know how to answer. Some of us are more prone to this wiring due to alexithymia and/or autism, but you do not have to be neurodivergent to have this experience. If you are one of these people, what I am about to share may be especially useful to you. It’s a way of getting more in touch with what is happening internally—specifically with your nervous system. The better in touch we are with our internal states, the greater our ability to respond rather than react to what is happening to us. The best part is, this method is particularly suitable for people who are most comfortable living in their heads—your ability to analyze, sort and arrange data will be extremely useful! I call this method Nervous System Mapping, and I have adapted it from Polyvagal Theory, which was developed by Stephen Porges, PhD, and has been written about extensively by Deb Dana, LCSW. Let’s get started! STEP ONE First, take a moment to determine which of three major nervous systems states your body is currently in: 1.) Fight or Flight—heightened sense of threat 2.) Optimal /Goldilocks Zone — Calm & Connected (Rest & Repair belongs in this zone as well) 3.) Freeze — Feeling numb/disconnected/hiding out STEP TWO Now, rate the intensity of your state on a scale of 1-10. If you are feeling slightly agitated as you push to meet a deadline, you might give yourself a 6 in the Fight or Flight state. If you are lying in bed, completely incapacitated (which means realistically you would not be reading this right now), you might rate yourself as close to a 10 in the Freeze state. STEP THREE Finally, decide if you need to take a step up or down to get closer to the Optimal Zone—that Goldilocks place where you are engaged with the world and feel safe in your own skin. Another way to think of it would be if you currently could benefit from getting a little more energized or a little more relaxed. In states of agitation/stress, you will want to figure out how to figuratively “apply the brakes” a bit. For freeze/shutdown states, you will want to “push on the gas pedal” instead. It’s easy to get overwhelmed if you think you have to take a big jump in either direction, so this is where having the ability to break things down into the smallest possible steps will be really helpful. So going back to the state of lying in bed, totally incapacitated, the very next step up might be simply thinking about what you might feel capable of doing when you feel ready to get out of bed. Don’t think it has to be a huge step! Your job is to start seeing the smaller steps that lie between, as chances are you have only been noticing the really big swings. If you’re new at this, you would probably stop there. But if you wanted to keep going, the step after that might be putting some music on (from bed) that reliably puts you in a good mood and is on the energizing side. Then it might be texting someone (from bed) who is close to you to let them know how you are doing. And then after that you might actually get out of bed and do something that feels manageable—maybe have a tasty snack! Don’t worry if this feels hard to do at first. What I really love about this exercise is that you get benefit from it even if you just do step one! The more often you can check in with your nervous system and start gaining awareness about your inner states, the less out-of-control you will feel when there are bumps in the road. Over time, you will start to recognize patterns in yourself, see where you keep getting stuck, and can start intervening sooner rather than later. The problem when we don’t have any connection with our internal states is that we don’t notice things until they are A MAJOR PROBLEM. Those things are always much harder to come out of, so if we start noticing more sooner and can shift up or down before THE MAJOR PROBLEM hits, we’ll be in much better shape overall. This exercise can also have a positive on our physical health. Some kinds of headaches and migraines, gut issues, and all sorts of things going on in our bodies are affected by our stress levels. It isn't so much about how stressful our lives are, but about how we respond to that stress. One way you might try out this exercise is to set timers for random points in the day. That way, you won’t forget and it will catch you at random moments when you may not have been feeling reflective at all. Often, those are the times we could most benefit by noticing more of what is happening internally. You don’t need to spend a ton of time on it, but the more frequently you do it, the more benefit you will get from it. And if you really want to get all nerdy with it, you could track your responses in a notebook and then look over the results in a week and see what kinds of patterns you are picking up about yourself. If you find yourself with further questions and would benefit from more support and guidance, feel free to reach out about my Nervous System Rewiring training. We can map out your unique nervous system, identify areas of challenge and strength, and create customized protocols for the situations you find most stressful to navigate. Give it a try and let me know how it goes! Would you like these posts delivered directly to your inbox each week? Subscribe for free on Substack: arikarapson.substack.com Last week we discussed how being able to give something the right name can be a wonderful thing—it can bring so much into focus, calm down the amygdala, give us a roadmap to navigate challenging symptoms or characteristics, and help us figure out the kinds of relationships, living environments and careers that are likely to be a good match for us.
But we all know of times when getting stuck with a label did nothing of the sort. When we are given the wrong label or a label that only tells part of the story, it quickly becomes restrictive. I recently read an article called ‘No One Has Seasonal Affective Disorder.’ It’s well written and the guy is pretty funny, so it’s a good read, even if I don’t agree with everything he said. He talks about how he’s prone to getting depressed in winter and thought he had SAD, and how he also thought he was an introvert and so he was staying home a lot. Unfortunately, none of the treatments (like light therapy) for SAD were helping him. Then it turned out that when he went out with a bunch of friends, he felt a lot better, which led him to doubt whether he really has SAD or is actually an introvert. Now, my overall response to this is not that labels were the problem, but that he had the wrong labels. Still, I do think he makes some good points. As he puts it, “The downside to naming this disorder, or naming anything really, is that it gives you a narrowed view of what it is and what should be done about it.” That’s important to keep in mind. Even when we find the right label and initially the world seems to open up, it is always possible to over-identify with a label, causing it to become limiting over time. We also have to keep in mind that even with the right label, there can be all sorts of variation within that label. I remember conversing with a middle school girl a while back who had recently discovered she was autistic and was in the process of getting evaluated at school. She was starting to identify other classmates who she was sure were autistic. But I noticed that she was only considering people that she liked as potentially autistic. It hadn’t occurred to her that there could be people out there she really didn’t like who could also be autistic, and that it might look very different for them than it did for her. Her pattern recognition skills were solid, but they were not broad enough to include the autistic people who she did not resonate with. If you’ve read my other posts, you may already know that I am really into plants. In addition to spending time in the forest each day and growing a number of native and medicinal plants in my yard, I’ve also been formally studying herbs for the last few years. I find it really interesting that herbalists shy away from labels when it comes to finding plants that will be helpful allies for the people they work with. For example, there are no herbs for autism, or ADHD, or anything else. Wait, what? How can that be? You may ask. If they don’t know what you have, how can they possibly help you? Well, again, consider how many different presentations there are of something like autism. I think one of the huge differences with autism are the differences between those who have hypersensitivity vs. those with hyposensitivity. It is an incredibly different experience to feel too much instead of too little. The things each group will need are going to be drastically different—the hypersensitive person may respond really well to herbs that are calming, help strengthen boundaries and deal with overwhelm, while the hyposensitive person may find herbs that are stimulating and open their senses to be just what they need. And many people are a combination of the two, which requires a highly personalized approach to meet their sensory needs—a mix of sensory seeking and sensory avoiding protocols/herbs/etc. And what about if you have ADHD and autism? Someone with ADHD alone might respond really well to stimulants, but if you give stimulants to an ADHD person who is also a hypersensitive autistic, it is only likely to amp up their anxiety and overwhelm. You have to really look at each person and customize a response according to their particular needs (and herbs are only going to be a part of that—never the whole answer). So an herbalist is going to be much more interested in your particular presentation of whatever it is that you have. And because that is the case, it doesn’t matter if you actually have a diagnosis for something. I think often people wait far too long to start addressing their needs because they think they need a formal diagnosis to do that. But really—if you are having GI problems, trouble sleeping and get easily overwhelmed, those are the things that need to be addressed. No diagnosis needed. This holistic approach of herbalists is a great example of when removing the label actually allows greater customization of care. A response that is not in any way one-size-fits-all, but rather crafted according to your particular needs and presentation. And especially helpful when you are dealing with a mystery illness or condition and have not really known what to do with the perplexing symptoms or challenges at hand because you thought you had to have a certain label before you could get the right treatment. It’s funny, but in writing about all of this I’m circling back to the same Mark Twain quote I used last week in defense of labels: “The difference between the almost right word and the right word is really a large matter. ’tis the difference between the lightning bug and the lightning.” It really can go both ways—sometimes it is the label that is the right word, and sometimes we have to abandon the label to get a more precise picture of who we are and what we are dealing with. The bottom line is that labels are ultimately a communication tool. Good communication should always be the underlying goal. Do what you need to communicate who you are and what you need. If a label ends up being a helpful tool in your communication toolbox, then by all means embrace it. But if the label gets in the way, then let it go. The important thing, no matter how we get there, is that we feel truly seen, heard and understood. Don’t settle for anything less. Would you like these posts delivered directly to your inbox each week? Subscribe for free on Substack: arikarapson.substack.com Oh, labels. We love them and we hate them, and for good reason. For some, the label feels like a restrictive box, and it’s too limiting. For others, finding the right label brings the sweet relief of finally having figured it out and knowing what you’re dealing with, and life gets easier after that. I’ve been on both sides of the label camp, and to me, labels are extremely helpful if and only if they are the right label. As Mark Twain put it, “The difference between the almost right word and the right word is really a large matter—it's the difference between the lightning bug and the lightning.” So let’s start by looking at when the right label is really helpful in the world of neurodivergence. Imagine you are the mother of a toddler, and this toddler is prone to throwing frequent fits where they scream at the top of their lungs and throw everything within their reach around the room. Your first thought is ‘temper tantrums,’ and you do all of the ‘right’ parenting things to discourage such behavior. But if anything, the behavior only gets worse over time. If and when your child finally gets the diagnosis of autism (a label!), you are likely to learn the difference between a temper tantrum and an autistic meltdown. They may look identical, but the causes are different, and so the response to them needs to be different as well if you hope to do anything about it. Learning that your child is autistic might give you the key to getting to the bottom of these outbursts. Once you know your child’s nervous system is in a heightened state of threat when the outbursts occur (rather than a behavior that they can control), you can start figuring out what exactly overwhelms their nervous system and how to better meet their sensory needs. A calmer child who feels safer more often is going to have fewer and less severe outbursts, and that is going to make you calmer as well. And speaking of the nervous system, let’s look at the role of the amygdala when it comes to labels. The amygdala is our fear center of the brain, and it is the part of the brain that tells us when there is a perceived threat. When there is something undefined/unknown/unfamiliar, our amygdala is more likely to get activated, which explains why humans tend to have a fear of the ‘Other.’ Once we are able to get to know someone/something, to put a name to it, to define it, the fear diminishes. I think that is a big part of why it can feel so relieving when you finally get a diagnosis for something you have been troubleshooting for years. There is an enormous amount of stress in uncertainty. If you have had a mystery illness or condition, you may have wondered if you were dying, going crazy, etc., and doctors may have treated you as if you were making it up. Or they may have treated you for the wrong thing, which was profoundly unhelpful. Being able to put the right name to it can make all the difference, even if the illness or condition is serious and there is not an easy road ahead. Knowing what you are actually dealing with is incredibly helpful, because now there is a clearer path to follow. The amygdala relaxes, and the nervous system settles down. And what about finally feeling understood? Seen for the first time! The puzzle pieces coming together, the clarity after all the fog. Ahhhh…..That is when a label can be a lifesaver! That’s why you see newly discovered/diagnosed neurodivergent people so passionate or intense sometimes once they finally figure it out. It can be a huge relief and a total game changer in terms of finding the right career or living environment. I think too about our relationships with other people in our lives. Perhaps you had a dad who you have been holding a grudge against because it has always felt like he just wasn’t very interested in you. He usually showed up late to your birthday parties, never seemed like he was giving you his full attention when he talked to you, and often seemed lost in his own world that you never had access to. Then you found out that he was multiply neurodivergent—has ADHD and autism. Ok, probably your frustration with him is not going to vanish as soon as you find that out, but it might give you an an internal ‘AHA!’ Knowing that those things were about his wiring rather than a lack of interest in you might help you start processing your feelings toward him, and may help build a bridge of understanding between you. You may very well still have grief (and you should give that all the time it needs to process), but something might shift. So many of our differences can create rifts and misunderstandings, and filling in those pieces can be an important part of healing. So those are just a few examples of when having the right label really matters. They can shift our understanding of ourselves and those around us, give us a new lens to see through that can bring a lot of things into focus, and equip us with better tools to navigate our relationships, career paths and the environments that we live in. In my next post I’ll tackle the other side of labels—when they can be confining, inappropriate and limiting. As with most things, labels are not either good or bad, and knowing how and when to use them is the key to living as your best and most authentic self. Would you like my posts delivered directly to your inbox each week? I'm now on Substack! Sign up for free here: arikarapson.substack.com. In my last post I discussed what it means to have a spiky profile, where you might be really good in some areas of life but need support in other areas. I pointed out there is nothing ‘abnormal’ about being spiky, and that there are examples of spiky profiles throughout the natural world (axolotls!) that express the diversity of life on earth. If it is perfectly natural though, why do we get so puzzled by the phenomenon? What is it about it that feels so unusual and unlikely? I would like to propose that our difficulty in recognizing and supporting spikiness comes from our deeply entrenched adherence to the factory assembly line model that permeates so much of our culture. That model stems from our value of convenience over everything else. Before there were factories, there was no such thing as uniformity. Our clothes, our furniture, our medicine—everything was handmade, customized, variable. There were no standard sizes, and in fact people used their body parts to measure things (which is why we still say a ‘foot’ for 12 inches—that was the length of King Henry I’s foot!). Luckily, we are moving farther and farther away from a time when a lot of humans are actually working in factories (although obviously that is still an issue, particularly in certain parts of the world). But the influence of the factory model still seeps into so many spheres of our lives. Fast food restaurants, for example, are designed on the factory assembly line model. It’s all about consistency and uniformity. All the french fries look the same. All the burgers taste the same, every time. Don’t eat fast food and make your own home cooked meals? Ok, but if you’re still buying carrots in the supermarket, they are all going to be the ‘right’ shape and size. A lumpy carrot that is bigger than average will not make it to the grocery store, even though there is absolutely nothing wrong with it. Uniformity is the expectation. Individually, we have not all chosen this value, but it is impossible not to be steeped in it. One area this really impacts us is the modern office environment. Earlier in the 20th century, office layouts were literally based on factory floors, with the later development of cubicles being an upgrade that allowed more privacy. Although they were an improvement, cubicles were still designed as a way of fitting more people into a smaller space. This kind of nudge towards ever greater efficiency is the epitome of the factory model. So how does this relate to being spiky? Well, spikiness is kind of the antithesis of the factory model. It’s all about variation! Just imagine being in a typical office environment where expectations have been shaped by assembly line thinking—an even, consistent output of work is expected for a preordained chunk of time that is consistent from day to day. Now imagine you have ADHD. You may appear to be completely unfocused and unproductive for large periods of time, but can also get into an intense hyper focus and accomplish an astonishing amount in a very short period of time. Are you going to fit in at the office? Of course not! That’s not necessarily a problem if you work remotely (as is becoming more common) and can still meet deadlines, but it’s not the way the conventional workplace was designed to operate. Marching to the rhythm of your own drum is seen as a flaw in an assembly-line culture. And that gets right to the heart of the matter (at least in part). As factory-thinking began seeping into all aspects of life, we started to pathologize anything that did not fit the consistent, packaged, uniform mold we were trained to expect. So some of what ends up being called a disability is actually only a problem because of the way modern life has been set up to operate—we run society like it is one, big, giant factory. But that is only a very recent phenomenon. Factories are relatively new, and their influence in cultural thinking took time to spread. Think back to when humans were hunters and gatherers, by way of contrast. The hypersensitivity that can be hell for the modern day autistic and is currently perceived as a deficit would have actually made them the best at securing food for their tribes. It is the context that makes hypersensitivity problematic, not the trait itself. I do not mean to suggest that this is the entire story though. There can be disabling aspects of being neurodivergent that would be challenging in any context, regardless of the culture. Poor fine motor skills, deficits in executive functioning skills, the tendency to have more trouble with sleeping and digesting food—the list goes on and on. Of course, not all neurodivergents will have all of those challenges and those that do will have them to varying degrees. So some neurodivergent people will feel their traits are largely disabling, while others feel their wiring is mostly a superpower. Often it is a mix of the two. Supporting a person with a spiky profile will require at least two things then: being able to distinguish which areas of challenge are a matter of context and which are true deficits, and choosing to take the time/resources to offer support where it is needed. If you are able to determine that the person is not actually deficient but just needs to do things in their own way, is it possible to give that person the space they need to do so? What is stopping you? And if they do need support, what will having that support enable them to do and become? Can you see the value in it? For some, the thought of providing support can feel like it is going to be time consuming and expensive, but that is not necessarily the case. Think about working remotely—it actually saves money for employers by reducing their overhead, and can help draw and retain workers who wouldn’t apply if they had to come in to the office every day. The biggest investment of energy this all requires is actually in a shift in thinking. We need to reexamine our factory assembly line approach to life and stop judging people based on their ability to conform. Shedding that model will actually allow the spiky folks a chance to excel at what they are really good at. Who knows what kinds of amazing things we have been suppressing by not creating environments where neurodivergent people can thrive! If we can see this shift as a gain rather than a loss, that’s where we will start to gain traction. As long as we are still convinced that there’s nothing better than running the world like a factory, we are not going to get anywhere. So let’s upgrade our model and give those with a spiky profile a chance to thrive. One of the things that can be most perplexing and difficult to wrap your head around when it comes to supporting a neurodivergent person is their tendency to have a spiky profile. We often expect someone with high support needs in one area to have them in other areas as well. If someone needs assistance brushing their teeth, we are not surprised when they need assistance getting their laundry done too. But it might surprise us if we found out that woman at the office who is an absolute wiz at math really struggles with getting her laundry done. We are likely to think she is just lazy or a messy person. Another thing that can be difficult to make sense of are the seemingly contradictory messages out there about being neurodivergent. Is it a disability or a superpower? Is it just a different neurotype? If someone tells you they are autistic or have ADHD, should you be envious or feel sorry for them? It can be a lot to sort through. And that’s where understanding the spiky profile becomes essential. Have you ever heard of an axolotl? They are these tiny salamanders in Mexico, and have been described as a biological wonder due to their ability to regenerate organs—including hearts and spinal cords! But despite what would seem like a superpower that could enable them to live forever, axolotls are endangered. They are extremely sensitive to pollution, and human activities are threatening their survival. This is a classic example of what it means to have a spiky profile. With a spiky profile, you may be unusually good at some things and especially challenged in others. That uncanny ability of the axolotl to regenerate limbs is quite exceptional. And yet the extra sensitive skins they have make them quite vulnerable at the same time. Vulnerable enough that human pollution could very well wipe them out. Spiky profile, indeed. Now we are all good at some things and not so good at others, but when it comes to the neurodivergent, there tends to be much greater differences between the two than there is for neurotypicals (see the graph above for reference). I think back to when I was a young adult. I breezed through college and attended graduate school with a full scholarship and teaching stipend, but by the time I earned my MA at 23 I still did not have my driver’s license. I had failed the test three times and finally went out to a small town that had less overwhelming sensory input and was able to just barely pass. I did my best to conceal my challenges though. There was no way I was going to draw attention to my inability to drive a car! Back then we did not talk about the phenomenon now known as ‘masking,’ but that’s exactly what I was doing. Masking is when you hide or disguise parts of yourself in order to better fit in, and I think it is one of the main reasons we have a hard time understanding why someone who appears highly functional may need support with things that are often considered basic skills. Neurodivergent people with lower support needs (those who are able to hold jobs) are in a constant struggle to ‘appear normal’ and ‘pass’ in a world that was not designed for them. We are still in the early phases of the neurodiversity movement where there are employers that are actually looking for neurodivergent minds for particular jobs, and the reality is that most employers still do not want to make accommodations for their employees. If you start talking to your boss about replacing fluorescent lights and strongly scented chemical cleaning products, you are usually written off as a high maintenance princess who needs to learn to be a better team player. And since the challenges that come along with your neurodivergence usually means you have more expenses than other people (more medical bills, paying three times more for unscented soaps and organic foods to avoid migraines, etc.), you are all the more motivated not to lose your job because the disabling aspects of your neurotype are expensive. This means that a lot of the struggle that high maskers live with has been largely invisible to neurotypicals. General competence in all areas of life is assumed because that’s the story we tell. Or more precisely, it’s because of the parts of the story we leave out. The spikiness goes underground. Unfortunately, the cost of constant masking is often burnout, escalating health issues, and high levels of anxiety. Not cool. These days there is a growing movement to let the cat out of the bag—reveal neurodivergent traits with the hope that society will deem you ‘valuable enough’ to accommodate your ‘vulnerabilities.’ The axolotl is in the same boat. Scientists are very interested in their remarkable regenerative abilities, and so there is hope that this will make them valuable enough to increase efforts at protecting them before it is too late. Understanding and supporting a spiky profile is going to require a shift in the cultural mindset, which I will discuss more in my next post. But in the meantime, let’s start seeing spikiness for what it is—a perfectly natural expression of neurodiversity. There is variation in the natural world, and it is actually the assembly line concept of uniformity that is unnatural. We need to start recognizing, accepting, and even embracing our differences. Let’s give the axolotls a chance to thrive. Exploring the Spiky Profile, Part 2 In my last post I discussed what it means to have a spiky profile, where you might be really good in some areas of life but need support in other areas. I pointed out there is nothing ‘abnormal’ about being spiky, and that there are examples of spiky profiles throughout the natural world (axolotls!) that express the diversity of life on earth. If it is perfectly natural though, why do we get so puzzled by the phenomenon? What is it about it that feels so unusual and unlikely? I would like to propose that our difficulty in recognizing and supporting spikiness comes from our deeply entrenched adherence to the factory assembly line model that permeates so much of our culture. That model stems from our value of convenience over everything else. Before there were factories, there was no such thing as uniformity. Our clothes, our furniture, our medicine—everything was handmade, customized, variable. There were no standard sizes, and in fact, people used their body parts to measure things (which is why we still say a ‘foot’ for 12 inches—that was the length of King Henry I’s foot!). Luckily, we are moving farther and farther away from a time when a lot of humans are actually working in factories (although obviously that is still an issue, particularly in certain parts of the world). But the influence of the factory model still seeps into so many spheres of our lives. Fast food restaurants, for example, are designed on the factory assembly line model. It’s all about consistency and uniformity. All the french fries look the same. All the burgers taste the same, every time. Don’t eat fast food and make your own home cooked meals? Ok, but if you’re still buying carrots in the supermarket, they are all going to be the ‘right’ shape and size. A lumpy carrot that is bigger than average will not make it to the grocery store, even though there is absolutely nothing wrong with it. Uniformity is the expectation. Individually, we have not all chosen this value, but it is impossible not to be steeped in it. One area this really impacts us is the modern office environment. Earlier in the 20th century, office layouts were literally based on factory floors, with the later development of cubicles being an upgrade that allowed more privacy. Although they were an improvement, cubicles were still designed as a way of fitting more people into a smaller space. This kind of nudge towards ever greater efficiency is the epitome of the factory model. So how does this relate to being spiky? Well, spikiness is kind of the antithesis of the factory model. It’s all about variation! Just imagine being in a typical office environment where expectations have been shaped by assembly line thinking—an even, consistent output of work is expected for a preordained chunk of time that is consistent from day to day. Now imagine you have ADHD. You may appear to be completely unfocused and unproductive for large periods of time, but can also get into an intense hyper focus and accomplish an astonishing amount in a very short period of time. Are you going to fit in at the office? Of course not! That’s not necessarily a problem if you work remotely (as is becoming more common) and can still meet deadlines, but it’s not the way the conventional workplace was designed to operate. Marching to the rhythm of your own drum is seen as a flaw in an assembly-line culture. And that gets right to the heart of the matter (at least in part). As factory-thinking began seeping into all aspects of life, we started to pathologize anything that did not fit the consistent, packaged, uniform mold we were trained to expect. So some of what ends up being called a disability is actually only a problem because of the way modern life has been set up to operate—we run society like it is one, big, giant factory. But that is only a very recent phenomenon. Factories are relatively new, and their influence in cultural thinking took time to spread. Think back to when humans were hunters and gatherers, by way of contrast. The hypersensitivity that can be hell for the modern day autistic and is currently perceived as a deficit would have actually made them the best at securing food for their tribes. It is the context that makes hypersensitivity problematic, not the trait itself. I do not mean to suggest that this is the entire story though. There can be disabling aspects of being neurodivergent that would be challenging in any context, regardless of the culture. Poor fine motor skills, deficits in executive functioning skills, the tendency to have more trouble with sleeping and digesting food—the list goes on and on. Of course, not all neurodivergents will have all of those challenges and those that do will have them to varying degrees. So some neurodivergent people will feel their traits are largely disabling, while others feel their wiring is mostly a superpower. Often it is a mix of the two. Supporting a person with a spiky profile will require at least two things then: being able to distinguish which areas of challenge are a matter of context and which are true deficits, and choosing to take the time/resources to offer support where it is needed. If you are able to determine that the person is not actually deficient but just needs to do things in their own way, is it possible to give that person the space they need to do so? What is stopping you? And if they do need support, what will having that support enable them to do and become? Can you see the value in it? For some, the thought of providing support can feel like it is going to be time consuming and expensive, but that is not necessarily the case. Think about working remotely—it actually saves money for employers by reducing their overhead, and can help draw and retain workers who wouldn’t apply if they had to come in to the office every day. The biggest investment of energy this all requires is actually in a shift in thinking. We need to reexamine our factory assembly line approach to life and stop judging people based on their ability to conform. Shedding that model will actually allow the spiky folks a chance to excel at what they are really good at. Who knows what kinds of amazing things we have been suppressing by not creating environments where neurodivergent people can thrive! If we can see this shift as a gain rather than a loss, that’s where we will start to gain traction. As long as we are still convinced that there’s nothing better than running the world like a factory, we are not going to get anywhere. So let’s upgrade our model and give those with a spiky profile a chance to thrive. I'm taking a blog break for the Winter Solstice, but my article 'Is Rhodiola the Herbal Alternative to ADHD Medication?' for Diverge Magazine was just released so be sure to check it out!
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I go into a kind of hibernation mode in December. While the outside world is bustling about with frenetic holiday activities, I stay home and reflect on the year gone by and start dreaming of the year to come. That’s gotten easier to do as time goes on, but it can still be hard to say ‘no’ to the inevitable holiday events. Hibernating means you are always swimming against the current, and it is a strong current. It takes a lot of energy to insist on resting.
So why swim against the current? I think the burnout levels we are seeing all around us speak to the fact that our cultural current is not actually serving us as humans. Nothing in the natural world is blooming all year long, and we forget that we were once a part of the natural world. Personally, the more I get realigned with natural rhythms, the better I feel. Nature has become my place of refuge and is my greatest tool for regulation. So perhaps it comes as no surprise that I celebrate the 8 Points in the Wheel of the Year—the Solstices and Equinoxes and the four dates that fall between them. It is a way of staying connected to the rhythms and seasons of our planet and getting grounded and centered in the core of my being. The Winter Solstice is the one that lands during the holiday season, and it is a time of quiet reflection and solitude. Sleeping more and drinking hot tea and reading long books by the fire. Of embracing the quiet darkness in the days leading up to it, and celebrating the return of the light once the solstice is reached. A time of recharging. I don’t know about anyone else, but I have a lot to learn from the dark time of the year. I generally have a very difficult time finding the “off” button in my body. Unwinding. Shifting gears. Getting a good night’s sleep. These are all things I have had to work at. They should come naturally, yes, but again we come back to that cultural current. KEEP GOING….DON’T EVER STOP!!!! It tells us. And so it takes time and practice to dismantle that invisible script we are all so familiar with. You could say that I go against the current in order to stay regulated. For my long-term health and well being. You could say it is a meditation in rhythmic cycles. An insistence on directing focus beyond the mayhem of the present moment. A reminder that life begins in darkness, and that sometimes you have to let everything get really still before you can really see anything clearly. So I keep reminding myself: Stop. Close your eyes. Breathe. Listen. Defy the current! If only for a moment. The script may unravel, but there is something stronger beneath it. Reach for it, and let the darkness bring you to life. The light is on its way. It always comes back. If you are familiar with hawthorn, your initial associations may not be as a supplement for neurodivergent folks. In Celtic mythology, hawthorn trees are known as ‘fairy trees,’ and as recently as 1999 a highway was moved so that one of these fairy trees would not have to be removed. Doing so, it was believed, would bring about bad luck and misfortune. And so they moved the highway instead.
Medicinally speaking, hawthorn is most commonly known as a heart medicine, and it certainly is a well-suited supplement for things like congestive heart failure. But as a full spectrum heart medicine, it can also help with heart palpitations, a racing heart, or calming the emotional heart. And it is in that context that you may start to see how it could be a supportive ally for a neurodivergent individual presenting with symptoms like an overexcited nervous system, anxiety, agitation and hypersensitivity. Herbalist David Winston, one of the founders of the American Herbalists Guild, finds hawthorn helpful for a restless or unfocused mind, and was one of the first to use hawthorn clinically for ADD and ADHD both in children and in adults. Scott Kloos, founder of The School of Forest Medicine, also mentions it as being used by some for ADHD, and specifically mentions its ability to calm the nervous system to reduce anxiety, agitation, excitability and hypersensitivity. Like many neurodivergent individuals, I tend to have an overactive mind and have a harder time accessing and navigating my heart space (realm of the emotions). I am also prone to heart palpitations, and if that happens at night, it can keep me awake for hours on end. I have found hawthorn to be a helpful tonic in regulating my heart energy. While it is not native to the Pacific Northwest where I live, hawthorn grows so abundantly here that it is considered invasive. So it is a tree that I freely gather flowers from in spring and berries from after the first frost in autumn. You do not have to worry about over harvesting. I blend it with a few other herbs I collect throughout the year (self-heal, yarrow and sometimes others) and drink it daily. I call this my ‘Sensitivity Blend.’ In my experience, it has been best worked with as an ongoing preventative supplement (as opposed to a rescue remedy). Hawthorn is a pretty low dose supplement (Kloos recommends just 10-15 drops of tincture daily), and if you take too much it can actually cause some agitation. So it is not an herb you would take extra of if you were having a panic attack—although you could certainly add a small amount of it to a rescue blend that you prepare ahead of time for those acute situations. Another reason hawthorn can be such a powerful ally for the neurodivergent is its protective properties. Hawthorn trees have some pretty intense thorns (it’s actually a member of the rose family). Katja Swift, co-founder of the CommonWealth Center for Holistic Herbalism, talks about how those thorns actually evolved to protect the tree from the giant four-ton sloths that would have otherwise devoured the tree. There’s an image for you! I have heard that some wildcrafters will gather just the thorns from the tree and make a potent protective tincture from it, and I can definitely see the appeal of doing so. Extra protection is something I think a lot of us with heightened sensitivity could use. The outside world can feel so intrusive—so much input coming in constantly, the intensity of the sounds, the lights, etc. And during the holidays, especially, we have to work so hard to protect our quiet space, to have time that is restful and healing and not just a constant, overwhelming drain on our energy. I love the thought of being nestled in the crook of an old hawthorn tree, its thorns keeping all the giant sloths of our time at bay. And what a perfect tree to take refuge in! Hawthorn is a literal refuge for hundreds of other species. Both the flowers and berries are rich food sources at opposite ends of the year for moths, bees and numerous insects, and it provides excellent shelter for many a nesting bird. Hawthorn is like the great, protective mother nourishing and watching over her children. She has so much to offer. Katja Swift sums up the protective power of those thorns beautifully: “When you feel raw and wounded, when you’re feeling like everyone can see you struggling and certainly they are all judging you for it – when you wish you could just enclose yourself in a nest of protective barbed wire that will keep the world out and let you be small and safe inside for a while: this is a time for (rose and) hawthorn.” So now I want to circle back to the idea of the Hawthorn as a fairy tree. I actually think it has relevance. In Ireland, fairies are not cute little Tinkerbells fluttering around. They are an otherworldly race thought to live underground, and were thought to be the first inhabitants of Ireland. The fairy folk—or Sidhe—can be mistaken for humans and their worlds do intersect at times—a Hawthorn tree, for example, might mark the entrance into the fairy realm. In general, the Irish felt very uneasy about the Sidhe and did whatever they could to stay clear of them. Going back to the 17th Century, there are written accounts of changelings, which were described as fairy substitutions for human children. A human infant might be stolen by the Sidhe, and they would leave a changeling in its place. The changeling behaved in ways that were deemed unnatural by the parents, and by claiming the child was not human, abuse and even infanticide could follow. This is a hard historical reality to process. But why is this important now? Recently there has been some discussion about whether these ‘changeling’ children were actually autistic and/or had other disabilities. As you read about changelings, “They are characterized by their poor response, resistance to physical affection, obstinacy, inability to express emotions, unexplainable crying and some physical changes such as rigidity and deformity. Some are unable to speak. Some characteristics of these stories, such as the initial health and beauty of the human child, the change after some period of “normalcy” and the specific behaviors of the changelings correspond to the symptoms in some presentations of autism.” If someone was unusually gifted in one way or another, that could also be a sign of a changeling, and could arouse intense suspicion. Is it possible that changelings were a concept that evolved in order to explain the mysterious differences in autistic children and those with other disabilities? It certainly looks that way. We did not have a word for autism until the 20th century, and it is well known that things like seizures were long associated with demon possession and the like. Before science, our mythologies provided a cultural framework to make sense of things we didn’t understand. Even today, we still commonly use the metaphor as the autistic mind being ‘alien’ to the neurotypical experience. We are the ‘Others.’ I find it fascinating that the very tree that is most emblematic of the Sidhe is now recognized as a tree with a strong affinity for the neurodivergent. The ‘Others’ by a different name. I suspect there is a much longer history of the Hawthorn tree being linked with neurodivergence than we will ever know. Perhaps we were taking shelter under hawthorn trees thousands of years ago, and that is how the tree came to be associated with the ‘Others.’ Who knows… Whatever the story may be, the reality remains. Hawthorn can be a powerful ally for the neurodivergent. Its medicine will not be for everyone, but you will not know for sure until you spend some time with it and discover what it has to offer. MY PLANT PERSPECTIVE: This is not medical advice. Plant medicine and wildcrafting have been my biggest helpers for emotional regulation and physical well being as an autistic woman. I am a serious plant lover, but I am not a doctor of licensed herbalist. Plants are complex, so do your own research (especially if you take pharmaceutical drugs as there can be possible interactions). Like people, even if plants check all the right boxes for you, you may not have chemistry with that plant so be willing to experiment. I’d love to hear from you in the comments below if you have discovered your own Neurodivergent Plant Helpers and are open to sharing your experience. Thanks for reading. Additional References https://www.yourirish.com/folklore/irish-fairy-trees Kloos, Scott. (2017). Pacific Northwest Medicinal Plants. Timber Press, Inc. https://awnnetwork.org/changelings-and-the-folk-history-of-autism/ |