A.D.D. WITH ZEN PRACTICE:
A CO-VITALITY

by Kevin Maginnis


There is, paradoxically, a natural fit between individuals diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD) or, even more surprising, with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD), and the Zen Buddhist meditation practice known as zazen. While it is hard to imagine an ADD or ADHD adult (both will be generically referred to as ADDers), sitting motionless, not even swallowing, for as long as 60 minutes at a time, it is not altogether unreasonable. There is possibly a deep neuropharmacological logic to the relationship that could potentially be of tremendous therapeutic value to an ADDer. At a minimum what can be said for certain about Zen practice is that it will allow, over time, an ADDer to just be themselves.

To be born with a genetic predisposition for the neurology of ADD and then to be exposed to the kind of environmental conditioning from ages 0 through 10 that allows this predisposition its fullest expression, is to be given a perverse gift of raw biological power. A power that is, in some very real sense, unimaginable to someone without ADD. And herein begins the fit between ADD and Zen practice.

One of the basic tenets of Zen practice is allowing awareness of this present moment. ADDers have been described as prisoners of the present by virtue of a psychophysiological lock on the ever-flickering, effervescent experiencing of all the stuff that’s happening right about now. This act of allowing awareness in Zen practice becomes for ADDers a kind of lens by which to focus this raw biological energy. The focusing, though, takes place in a way that at first isn’t readily accessible to an ADDer. This "allowing" action is not exclusively or even mostly constrictive or concentrative in the traditional sense of paying very close attention. ADDers who experiment with Zen practice are often frustrated quickly as they mistake, as do most people, that meditation involves a tough Marine Corps like focusing of will. Unlike most non-ADDers, ADDers will often abandon Zen practice after only a brief try without the guidance of an experienced master.

The ADDers who somehow manage to break through this illusion of will quickly realize their natural ability to be in the moment, and often discover what can be at times, a profound calming effect. This calming effect is, in large part, due to the interior neuropsychological space created by the act of allowing awareness. To understand this effect, and to analyze its potential for co-vitality, let’s first examine the act of allowing awareness in some detail.

The practice of zazen involves taking a reasonably comfortable but erect sitting posture either in a chair or cross-legged on the floor. The abdomen should be slightly elevated above the knees with a cushion so as to facilitate relaxed breathing with the abdominal muscles. The back, shoulders and head are erect with the head tilted slightly downward, eyes half closed with soft focus. Arms rest at the sides with hands placed either in the sitter’s lap or on the sitter’s thighs. Attention is then directed at the spontaneous act of breathing.

This beginning phase of zazen is very much in the spirit of concentrative focusing, following the up and down movement of the lungs through a variety of cycles. One technique is to count each breath softly to yourself, one on inhalation, and two on the exhalation, up to 10, and then start over. Some schools of Zen practice encourage this concentrative focusing exclusively, admonishing the sitter to cut all thoughts off at the root. ADDers tend to quickly drop out of these Zen centers, as any effort to hold back the tide of raw biological energy past the brief periods of hyperfocus is rapidly defeated.

ADDers tend to excel at the next phase of zazen, which is generically referred to as thought labeling. During this period the inevitable drifting of attention away from breathing and onto the mental contents of the moment is not resisted. Instead, a peculiar kind of passive effort is made; first, to recognize the act of drifting as it happens, second, to label whatever the thought is at that instant of recognition (i.e., having a thought that I have to balance my checkbook today), third, to gently return attention back to either following the breath, or possibly the sound of traffic, or any other immediate sensory experiencing, and that’s all. To stay like this, motionless, for anywhere from 10 to 60 minutes, the duration being determined by experience level and sitting environment, is to engage in a potent form of non-pharmacological, non-surgical neurological transformation.1

There is evidence to show that zazen goes to work on some of the same neurological pathways that are implicated in ADD. Both the dopamine and serotonin systems are affected in both short and long-term ways, along with a host of other key neurotransmitters and their synaptic webs. Through this simple action of allowing awareness and being present, an ADDer finds a kind of natural medication for their condition, although medicating or changing the person in a therapeutic way is not the intent of Zen.

The intent of Zen could be described as "be yourself". This other tenet of Zen practice is actually a kind of joke. From the vantage point of non-judgmental universal acceptance (sometimes stated as "everybody is doing the best they can"), it is impossible not to be yourself. A more accurate description of the action involved would be to "observe yourself". Zen practice is absolutely open. It judges nothing in its field of awareness. The practice only acts to allow awareness to its maximum observational power by taking in not only yourself but all subjective conscious experiencing.

The most disastrous thing an ADDer could do to themselves, from the perspective of Zen practice, is suppress their ADD thoughts and actions (except, of course, during formal sitting where all physical activity is let go of). It’s not really important in Zen practice what you think, feel or do, what’s important is that you pay attention to what you think, feel and do. Not the tightly constricted attention of narrow focus, but a soft open awareness of all that is.

What zazen sitting does is lay the groundwork for an observing self (possibly by strengthening neural circuits around the reticular nucleus of the thalamus while pruning select synaptic connections out of and into the cingulate gyrus and the amygdala?). This observing self, though, is not really constructed, but revealed, as Zen practice illuminates the presence of an innate witnessing function to awareness. As Zen practice allows this witness to emerge an interior neural psychological space, a space of only fractions of a second in size, is discovered.2 This space emerges not only in zazen, but also in the moment-to-moment thinking and acting outside of sitting, as the Zen practice of observing is meant to extend beyond zazen into all everyday activities. It is in this space that the unintentional therapeutic effect of Zen practice appear for the ADDer.

An ADDer who practices Zen needs to be completely open to themselves as they find themselves in this present moment. What an ADDer discovers as part of this observing process is the tight interwoven relationship between their thoughts, emotions and behaviors. They realize there are no thoughts that don’t have at least a tinge of emotion balled up with them. And that each of these emotion-thoughts correlate with skin, muscle and skeletal responses throughout the body, serving as the springboard for behavior. The situation ADDers, as well as non-ADDers, find for themselves, after only a brief period of Zen practice, is that the vast majority of these emotion-thoughts and their correlated behaviors appear spontaneously and, in this sense, unconsciously.

The act of observing, of allowing awareness, casts a great light on what are otherwise automatic actions. The notion here is that the mere act of bringing these actions into awareness begins to have a spontaneous editing effect on those actions. The simple act of observing creates a tiny distance between when a thought/emotion/behavior impulse arises and when it is acted out. Within that space, a very modest capacity for volition appears. It’s not the power of will that most people imagine themselves to possess, the power to be anything they choose to be. It’s more like the power to just relax and let things happen. When things happen in this open field of awareness they tend to be less harmful to the individual and those around the individual, and it’s in this sense that Zen practice is therapeutic.

Awareness in Zen practice, though, is not a therapeutic tool. It is the universal ground of experiencing that the observing self/witness backs up to and eventually disappears into. The true preoccupation of Zen practice is not therapy but spiritual insight. To this end, thought labeling is only one small step toward a vast horizon.

ADDers have this perverse gift of restless energy. Zen practice gently focuses that energy, and the result is a far more sensitized experiencing, but, once the doors of awareness have been flung open, there is no telling what’s in store for the individual practicing. While sitting, long forgotten memories can suddenly spring up, stretches of deep silence can spontaneously appear, sometimes resulting in experiences of no-self.3

ADDers might be a little more sympathetic to this other tenet of Zen practice, no-self, than most people. They have first-hand experience of themselves changing thought, mood and behavior very quickly, both with the influence of medication and without. Their sense of self is more fluid and uncertain. To go the next step and just be there, just be the moment-to- moment experiencing, is at least imaginable to an ADDer. This is not to say that the Zen practice of no-self is easy for an ADDer. It is very hard for people, ADDers and non-ADDers alike, to let go of their self-centered thoughts and emotions. Everybody believes that if only their lives where somehow different, in either a big or small way, they could be happier then what they are right now. ADDers suffer as much as non-ADDers in this illusion, but ADDers, because of their odd "gift", have an intuition for another way of being. For an ADDer to, in a sense, throw themselves away and just be the moment-to moment experiencing is to see the absolute freedom and oneness of it all. To see that there is no place to go, nothing to hope for, nothing to accomplish, that the entire universe is already contained in this very breath, is to comprehend something very rare indeed. An ADDer who comprehends even just a flicker of this insight can be brought to tears of joy and gratitude: a joy that comes from being truly themselves and a deep gratitude for their life, just as it is, ADD and all.

1The clinical research to support this contention is far from complete. See Austin J., Zen and the Brain, Cambridge, MA, MIT Press, 1998.

2Neuropsychological space is analogous to the four dimensions of spacetime in general relativity physics with brain structure being the three dimensions of height, width and depth, and brain metabolism being the fourth dimension of time. Neuropsychological space is defined by what complex set of neurons are excited/inhibited, where and in what sequence, usually only milliseconds in time length.

3There is a consensus among neurologists that there is no one place in the brain where "self" resides. Instead, self appears to be a neurological construct arising out of a moment-to-moment metabolic action. Self is the unification of many different parallel actions throughout the brain taking place at no one point in the brain. An experience of no-self is the collapse of this metabolic action of unification for just a second or two, long enough for the experiencer to comprehend a far deeper unification.

References

Austin, J. H., Zen and the Brain, Cambridge, Massachusetts, MIT Press, 1998.

Barkley, R. A., Attention-Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, New York, The Guilford Press, 1998.

Beck, C. J., Everyday Zen, Love and Work, San Francisco, Harper San Francisco, 1989.

Beck, C. J., Nothing Special, Living Zen, San Francisco, Harper San Francisco, 1993.

Damasio, A. R., Descartes’ Error, New York, Grosset/Putnam, 1994.

Kabat-Zinn, J., Wherever You Go There You Are, New York, Hyperion, 1994.

LeDoux, J., The Emotional Brain, New York, Simon & Schuster, 1996.

Ramachandran, V. S. and S. Blakeslee, Phantoms in the Brain, New York, William Monroe & Company, 1998.

Ratey, J. J., and C. Johnson, Shadow Syndromes, New York, Pantheon Books, 1997.