And now for a bit of controversy.
Most of our ADD traits are, when carefully examined, positives that society shouldn’t be trying to change in us. Most of those traits – deep-diving into projects, cultivating some excesses, indulging our desire to please - should remain untouched, simply presented differently or otherwise made easier to understand to others.
Our need for messes isn’t one of them.
Most of us love clutter. We love it! We love stacks of things here and there. We love a room where there’s a place for nothing and nothing has a place, other than over there.
This angers our parents, growing up. It annoys the coworkers whose orderly desks must sit alongside our chaotic ones. It vexes our partner or our roommate, who is forced unfairly to be uncomfortable so that we don’t have to be.
At the same time, clutter works for us: it’s a near-perfect visual metaphor for the wondrous diversity in our heads, the anything-can-happen dynamic of our thoughts, the surprise-at-our-fingertips nature of our emotions. We love the clutter of our rooms because it’s a kind of passive permission to enjoy our minds.
That’s almost impossible to get across to someone who knows how to put books back on a shelf.
My personal testimony here is pretty typical. For me, it’s books.
As far back as my memory goes, my own clutter has been books. Sitting here typing, I can spin 360 degrees in my desk chair and see seven bookcases. All seven of them have additional books stacked at the top. There are three stacks of books on the floor to my left, two stacks on my right, and another stack on the coffee table.
And that’s just one room. You should see the dining room table.
In fairness, I own more books than I have shelf space for at this particular time (and that’s with 40 bookcases total in the house). Even so, it’s a candid truth that I love my stacks of books. I couldn’t do without them, and wouldn’t have it any other way. As with us all, I look at my stacks of books and I see a reflection of my mind, and I’m giving it permission to be itself.
But then our problem resurfaces. It’s easy for me to indulge myself here; my kids are grown, and they come and go, but other than that, I’m here by myself. There’s no one else here to be annoyed or made uncomfortable by my clutter.
But that might change, any day. And then I have some hard choices to make.
...except that, we all know, it isn’t any choice at all. A responsible adult, ADD or no, cultivates an environment that is welcoming to others. To do less is irresponsible and disrespectful.
The answer, I think, is middle ground. Yes, I need the visual metaphor and emotional comfort of clutter. But, as with all other indulgences, moderation is not only possible but preferable.
My next step will be to get my house in order, top to bottom – excepting a modest workspace that’s mine alone, where books can pile up and notepads can be strewn about and I can feel like me when I’m getting things done.
The rest of my house can be a friendly, comfortable place I can share with those I love.
Does this all sound reasonable?
“I’m not sloppy – really, I’m not! Yes, my default organizational unit is the stack, but it’s not like there are pizza boxes in the corners and dirty laundry on the furniture. The clutter I sometimes unleash isn’t chaos – it's a kind of reassurance. It’s a sneak peak into my brain, and it’s kind of reassuring! I know that probably doesn’t make much sense, but I promise it does. Even so, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable – I want you to feel totally welcome in my space! I’ll even welcome your suggestions about how I might organize the spaces we share. I’ll get this under control, if you’ll give me a little time, and I’ll keep my clutter spot to myself. Fair enough?”
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