Redefining Stillness: ADHD & Meditation

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ADHD & Meditation

Hi! Christine Free here, The LCMHC Mystic—a licensed clinical mental health counselor, energy worker, hypnotherapist, and yoga instructor who blends psychology and mysticism to support healing and self-discovery. Each month, my goal is to share reflections, stories, and practices from both my professional work and personal life—because for me, consistency is a practice in itself. Thank you for finding my little corner of the internet. If something here resonates, I’d love to hear from you—connecting with kindred souls is one of my favorite parts of this work.

This month, I want to dive into ADHD and meditation. The idea came to me while I was driving—where most of my ideas seem to arrive. Lately, I’ve been leaning more into accepting my ADHD diagnosis. If you follow me on socials, you’ve probably noticed me sharing more openly about it. I’ll save my full ADHD story for another blog (my inner Generator in Human Design says “not yet”), but today I’m called to focus on ADHD and meditation.

So, ADHDer’s—do we meditate? The short answer: yes, we absolutely can. But it often looks different. Some folks with ADHD master traditional meditation, but it takes immense discipline, and honestly, I sometimes wonder if they’ve completely rewired their brain. ADHD brains are wired differently—it’s not a flaw, it’s a unique blueprint. I’ve always said it’s a superpower. But like any superpower, it comes with a learning curve. So then how do we do it? Let’s first look at a few things before diving into that part of the question.

ADHD Brains vs. Neurotypical Brains

The biggest difference between ADHD and neurotypical brains isn’t willpower—it’s wiring. ADHD brains show differences in areas that control attention, executive functioning, and reward processing:

• Dopamine regulation: ADHD brains have lower baseline dopamine levels, making it harder to stay motivated by routine or boring tasks. Neurotypical brains can rely on steady dopamine release, while ADHD brains often need novelty, urgency, or high interest to engage.

• Executive functioning: ADHD brains often struggle with planning, organizing, and sequencing, while neurotypical brains navigate these skills with less effort.

• Attention networks: ADHD brains tend to hyperfocus on what they love and scatter on tasks that feel dull. This isn’t laziness—it’s about how attention is regulated.

For meditation, this means that “sit still and clear your mind” can feel unnatural, even punishing, to an ADHD brain. But when meditation is reimagined—through movement, sound, breathwork, or sensory grounding—it can become not only possible, but deeply supportive.

ADHD often looks different in adults than it does in children. While hyperactivity in kids may look like constant running, climbing, or being unable to sit still, in adults it often becomes fidgeting, jitteriness, or an underlying restlessness. This makes sitting through a work meeting—or yes, even a traditional meditation—feel almost unbearable.

Impulsivity in adults might look like jumping into projects without reading directions, blurting things out, or speeding on the highway. Inattention often shows up as daydreaming, avoiding boring tasks, or struggling to stay organized and follow through.

Researchers use tools like the World Health Organization’s Adult ADHD Self-Report Scale (ASRS) to better understand adult ADHD. I use them pretty frequently in my therapy practice. These tools remind us that ADHD isn’t just “being distracted”—it’s about how the brain organizes, regulates, and engages.

The takeaway: ADHD in adulthood is real, nuanced, and often misunderstood. And when it comes to meditation, those same symptoms—restlessness, distractibility, impulsivity—shape how we experience stillness and presence.

This brings us to meditation, which is an art of stillness, along with so much more.

Traditional Meditation & Its Value

Taking a brief moment to understand traditional meditation and its value is important. I utilize meditation practices with just about all of my caseload.

Meditation is an ancient practice with roots stretching back thousands of years across many cultures. The earliest written records appear in India around 1500 BCE in the Vedas, sacred Hindu texts describing meditation as a pathway to divine connection. From there, meditation evolved within Hinduism, Buddhism, and Jainism, emphasizing stillness, breath, and awareness as paths to liberation and enlightenment.

In China, Taoist traditions cultivated meditation to harmonize with nature and nurture qi (life energy). Around the same time, Confucian and Buddhist influences shaped contemplative practices across East Asia.

Meditation also appears in Christian mysticism, Jewish Kabbalah, and Islamic Sufism, often in the form of prayer, chanting, or contemplative study. Across all of these traditions, meditation was never simply about stress relief (as we often frame it today). It was about deepening spiritual connection, self-realization, and transformation.

In the modern West, meditation gained popularity in the 20th century as Buddhist, yogic, and mindfulness practices were woven into psychology, wellness, and healthcare. Today, while meditation is often presented as a tool for relaxation and focus, its roots remind us it has always been a sacred doorway into presence, balance, and the mystery of being.

Meditation Reimagined for ADHD

Coming back to the beginning: how does one with ADHD actually meditate?

To answer this, I want to share my personal experience. But also, I want to reiterate that it looks different for all of us—neurotypicals alike.

As someone with ADHD, presence often comes through the body, through rhythm, and for me, always through a form of sensory focus. One of the reasons yoga saved me was because I was able to move in meditation. I would become so relaxed creating playlists that when I went to do my asana practice, I seemed to just flow into the breath and movement, making it easier for me to find stillness and reach deep theta states.

I know that had I just thrown on some music and laid on my mat, the busy brain and all the open mind-tabs would have had me reeling until I got up and did something different. What I also love about moving meditations is that I can literally make them up as I go. I can find myself free-flowing and being in an authentic state of being—something that gives me utter peace.

I remember one time specifically, when I was in my home office in North Carolina. I was especially edgy—this was before I was diagnosed. At that time, I was battling major intrusive thoughts: that I wasn’t good enough, that I couldn’t focus or finish anything, that I was failing as a therapist, a yogi…the list went on.

I remember deciding to put everything out of sight—because that is a big issue, seeing all my piles and projects and then getting so overwhelmed not knowing where to start. I put them away, grabbed my mat, and laid there. I had so much fun making a playlist. I focused on what mood I wanted to set, then I played it and allowed my body to just move and flow until I found myself in a fully relaxed state, lying on my mat, astral traveling. I came out of that meditation feeling clear—and for once, not feeling like I had done anything wrong.

Flash forward a few years later, and here I am, accepting my neurodivergent brain. Meditation is so important to my life, but I wish I had known years ago what I know now. I don’t beat myself up anymore for not sitting still. I don’t talk down to myself if I don’t do it every day. I allow my superpower brain to be wide open and see how I can meditate in nontraditional ways. Just the other day, I sat swinging in my hammock, practicing my breath while getting lost in the clouds.

For ADHD brains, we can meditate—we just have to be gentle with ourselves and recognize that it can look different each time.

Here are some ways I—and many of my clients—have found meditation that feels both possible and enjoyable. You might notice some of these overlap with traditional practices, while others stretch the definition a bit. That’s the point: meditation is flexible.

• Movement Meditation: Walking slowly and intentionally, noticing each step, each sound, each breath. Yoga flows, dancing, even mindful stretching all count.

• Guided Practices: Listening to a meditation with prompts, visualization, or gentle background music. This gives the ADHD brain an anchor to follow.

• Sensory Meditation: Lighting a candle and watching the flame. Holding a stone and noticing its texture. Tuning into the rise and fall of breath with one hand on the chest, one on the belly.

• Mantra & Sound: Repeating a phrase, humming, or using chanting to focus the wandering mind. Sound gives us something to do with attention.

• Creative Meditation: Journaling after breathwork, doodling in silence, or free-writing as a way to clear the mind.

The point is: meditation doesn’t have to mean sitting still and emptying your thoughts. For ADHDers—and really for all of us—it can mean finding practices that meet us where we are.

Journal Prompts & Reflection

• When do I feel most present in my body or surroundings?

• What small practices already bring me calm or focus?

• If I release the idea of “doing meditation the right way,” what might it look like for me?

• How does my brain experience stillness—does it resist, or does it discover new ways to settle?

Closing & Call to Action

Meditation is not one-size-fits-all. Whether you have ADHD, are neurotypical, or fall somewhere in between, the heart of meditation is presence, not perfection. I’d love to hear what works for you—share your reflections, your favorite practices, or your challenges in the comments or by reaching out.

And remember: you are everything and nothing less.

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