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 thats
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 isnt 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, lets 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 sitters lap or on the sitters 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 thats 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). Its not really important in Zen
practice what you think, feel or do, whats 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 dont 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.
Its not the power of will that most people imagine themselves to possess, the power
to be anything they choose to be. Its 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 its 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 whats 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. |