Snow and ADHD Rest

Do you remember that feeling of a snow day when you were a kid? I do. But my feelings were a lot more complicated than what I see depicted on social media. I remember the night before a potential snow day, I was wrought with feelings of anticipation. There was a nervous excitement and a desire to will the snow day into being - to enjoy the fleeting freedom that is offered by the floating flakes turned mountains but there was something more as well.

There is a largeness to those days when we let the sublime of nature enter our mundane and monotonous lives and when we get to experience wonder. We also get the joy of an extra or free day and the unburdening of regular toil. A day when there is a pause from the routine and chance for something unexpected. Even at age seven, I can remember the relief of the snow day. I remember one in particular where I got to stay at home instead of at my Gran's. I practiced over and over again drawing a five point star without lifting my pencil off the paper. It was a skill I had been trying to learn ever since I saw a girl in my class do it; finally with hours stretched ahead of me I had the chance to master it. I don't have a direct memory of anything else that particular snow day, but based on what I know about my mother and where we were living at the time, I can also imagine there was some time spent with my brother and I playing in the snow as my mother shoveled for the tenants of the apartment building where she and my father were superintendents. I would also wager that she made us hot chocolate to enjoy after our adventure in the snow. It might have been the kind of hot chocolate where she would stand at the stovetop stirring together milk, fry's cocoa powder and some granulated sugar. Or it might have been the instant coronation brand hot chocolate from Price Club. Those would have been the only two options and entirely dependent on what was in the apartment that day. But what I do remember, what has stayed with me, is that chance I got to practice my stars.

The night before when we didn't know if they would call the snow storm, I also remember a hollowness in my stomach, a weird flutter in my chest, something unpleasant. I was experiencing something like dread, and something like anxiety. But why? If only we could go back and interrogate my child-self, try to unpack everything she was experiencing. What I conjecture now is that my undiagnosed ADHD brain was experiencing overwhelm with the unpredictability of the next day. Essentially, I would go to sleep (or try to sleep) not knowing what was expected of me the next day. I didn't know if I would be forced up the frosty hill towards my portable classroom, snow so deep that it would inevitably penetrate the tops of my boots and soak my socks which would migrate down around my heels throughout the journey. I didn't know if I would have to sit in snow dampened clothing with wet hair on soggy carpet while my teacher read us books and taught us cursive writing. I didn't know if I would have to tow myself out of bed in the black winter morning and feel the shiver of cold as my bare toes hit the tiled floors. Or, maybe, it would be different, maybe it would be a snow day. But the not knowing, the inability to prepare myself for the day ahead is what likely caused the dread, anxiety, and overwhelm.

Underneath the mixed feelings I had about a snow day, maybe what can be seen is also how hard each of those other days were for me, how much I had to mentally prepare for the day ahead. Looking back, I can see that I was struggling with sensory overwhelm, demand avoidance, and a desire for unstructured play. The beauty of the snow day is that it met all my needs. I could stay warm and cozy, I could have relational and physical rest. I could explore my own creativity without the demand for productivity or output. Ultimately, my young ADHD brain needed that day and likely needed a lot more of those kinds of days.

So - as an adult, do snow days feel the same? Does a snow day offer the same invitation for rest and wonder? Or is it another day with competing demands and pressures? Snow days offer a unique opportunity for the types of rest that ADHD minds need. While we can't necessarily shirk off all our responsibilities now that we are adults, we can take a moment of reflection to ask ourselves how we are doing. Are we resting in ways that are truly restorative? Do we seek wonder? Do we allow non-productivity? Can we give ourselves sensory comfort? Are there people in our lives where we can rest relationally?