We recently had much of the interior of our house repainted. Sitting in my home now feels peaceful and relaxing because in addition to getting a fresh layer of paint, we also took the time to declutter. It is easy to feel grounded and centered when my surroundings exude a serene vibe.
But if you had asked me if I would be feeling this way just a few weeks ago when we were preparing for the painters and during the process it would have been hard for me to tell you that I could see the peace on the horizon. It wasn’t for a lack of preparation or a lack of trying. My husband is a builder and was beyond wonderful and thorough in preparing me for what to expect during the process. He organized everything in the house to be sure that the painters could get to all the places they needed. He warned me that our house would look like a construction zone while it was being painted, and he promised that it would all be worth it in the end. He did for me what I try to do for our kids when I know that a big transition is coming up…prepared me for what to expect and created a plan to navigate the unfamiliar situation. And while having that foreknowledge was invaluable, I still had (many) moments that took me off center during the project, and it all had to do with the state of my nervous system at any given point.
Let’s start with the before: we had to move many of our belongings to obscure places to be sure that they were out of the painters’ way. (My husband even organized all the items from our children’s playroom into bins and stacked them in the shower in one of the bathrooms in our house.) It was systematically organized chaos, but chaos nonetheless because my brain had to get used to a new visual schema.
Then when the project began the painters thoughtfully covered all the surfaces in our house with plastic: the cabinets, the countertops, the floors, anything that ran the risk of damage from potential drywall dust, paint overspray or drips. Naturally I was grateful for their diligence and care in protecting our stuff. And at the same time it was another change that brought not only visual differences to my familiar mental blueprint, it also stimulated and challenged other senses.
Because our kitchen was in the center of the whole project, we were also prevented from cooking or eating any meals in there, something we do for pretty much every meal. And with an entire crew of painters in our house for the three days they were here, my children and I did our best to stay out of their way by going directly outside as soon as we got home from school. While typically we would go in and out of our home as needed, grabbing snacks or heading to the restroom without hesitation, during this time we had to pause and create a new plan to ensure that we didn’t disrupt the flow of the crew’s work.
During all of this my logical brain knew how lucky we were to have the opportunity to reinvigorate our home, how lucky we were to be able to get take out food as needed, how lucky we were to have a peaceful backyard where we could spend the afternoons, and how lucky we were that the whole process took less than one week. Yet all of that logic could not overtake the unrest that my system experienced during this time. And it has to do with nervous system regulation.
My “aha” moment came when the paint crew leader asked me what I thought of the walls that were already painted. Until that moment I hadn't even considered looking at them. In his mind that was the center of all that was occurring so naturally I would notice it and have an opinion. With his and his crew’s hard work it made sense that he would feel excitement to know that I recognized it and appreciated it. I didn’t have the right words to express that I physically couldn’t see the paint at that point because I was working too hard to keep myself centered. (I was pretty sure that wouldn’t have made any sense to him because most people don’t have the same passion for understanding how the nervous system works as I do.)
Let me explain: every bit of our behavior starts with our nervous system receiving some sort of sensory information then processing that information and then reacting accordingly. When the information we receive is familiar and/or calming, it is easy to notice and appreciate the big picture around us. But when that sensory information is unfamiliar or uncomfortable, then our nervous system goes on high alert assessing for danger. Our focus narrows to allow us to find the one or few threatening things in our environment so that we can react to those to keep us safe. And to my brain, just the plastic on the floor was perceived as a threat.
That might seem odd to some. How in the world can plastic on the floor be dangerous? But for my sensitive system, the sound of the plastic and the feel of it under my feet were too much. I noticed that walking on the thin plastic instead of the familiar hardwood floor caused my body to make minute adjustments to my balance, and even those tiny modifications made me feel unsteady and on high alert. My vision narrowed as my brain instinctively looked for and accommodated for the “danger.” In that moment, I physically could not process my feelings about the beautiful walls that lined my staircase. Yes, for a moment when the crew leader brought my attention to it, I could see the color, but that awareness was fleeting because the logical, thinking part of my brain was competing with the reflexive, protective part for energy, and because my nervous system was on high alert, the reflexive part won out (as it always will in those situations).
As I reflected on this experience, I was drawn to examine the parallels of this story with what neurodivergent children experience in their daily lives. I couldn’t help but think about all the times children are called out and ridiculed for their lack of “paying attention” when what is really happening is that their own nervous systems are simply working tirelessly to keep them safe from perceived and actual dangers.
How often have you heard, “if they just pay attention…” or “I know they can do this because they have done it in the past…” or “they are just being lazy…” or any number of statements that assume children are having difficulty with a task or academic assignment simply because they are not trying hard enough?
It is time to break that cycle and understand how most often nervous system dysregulation is at the core of children’s academic and behavioral challenges.
Let’s have a very basic introduction to some neuroscience. Brain development happens from the bottom up. At birth the brainstem, which controls the most basic biological functions, like heart rate, breathing, blood pressure, etc., is in charge. It is fully developed and reacts to sensory stimuli and input to keep us alive. Over time, brain development continues to happen through the midbrain, cerebellum, limbic system, and finally the cortex, which is the highest level of the brain and is responsible for logical thinking, learning, language, and problem solving. When our nervous system feels safe, the cortex is in the driver’s seat allowing us to think rationally, make thoughtful decisions, and respond with behaviors that align with our intentional choices. But, when the nervous system perceives threat, the brainstem and other lower reflexive parts of the brain take the wheel without warning, pushing the cortex to the backseat, and we react (instead of respond) with actions and behaviors that are instinctual instead of intentional. This system is beautifully designed in that it is exactly what keeps us safe and alive, and for those of us with more sensitive nervous systems it works overtime, causing us to live more often in a state of fight/flight/freeze.
In most situations using laziness as an excuse says more about the ones doing the judgment than the ones being judged. It is time to recognize that children who are expected to override their innate protective nervous system to appease those who are trying to teach them a new fact or skill are actually working HARDER than those whose nervous systems are not on high alert. Thus, they are as far from lazy as one can be.
When we call out children for their difficulty with attending to the tasks WE expect them to do and fail to recognize that their brains are showing a more reflexive dominance at that given point, then we must take accountability for our beliefs and actions and rewrite the narratives we have been given and have believed about the reasons behind children’s behavioral and academic challenges. The next time you feel the urge to call a child lazy, careless, or inattentive, use your cortex to pause, increase your own effort to help the child feel safe, and watch the magic unfold.
