It’s the fall here in the Texas Hill Country, and that means migrating animals. Today, I just finished a mindfulness session outdoors with my animal friends, and there was a particular joy in the air—because butterflies (not monarchs) are migrating. They’re everywhere and all around us. How wonderful it feels to be fully present, to witness and be enveloped in this natural phenomenon. I didn’t let myself feel guilty about not rushing indoors to write this blog. Instead, I gave myself permission to just be in the moment, something I wouldn’t have done before embracing mindfulness.

As someone who is AuDHD, my thoughts often run wild, and for my son, who is also AuDHD, sitting still for more than a couple of minutes is challenging. Neurovariancy aside, we live in a world where the mind is constantly pulled in multiple directions. Our minds are rarely at rest, and for neurodivergent individuals, these fluctuations can feel more intense. Whether it’s racing thoughts, sensory overload, or the pressure to mask, the mind rarely gets a break.

Mindfulness is the practice of being fully conscious and aware of the present moment, without judgment. It’s the ability to bring our focus to the here and now, whether we’re observing our surroundings, paying attention to our breath, or simply acknowledging our thoughts and letting them pass without getting caught up in them. Ask yourself, how often do you get up to grab a drink of water without actually being aware of the act itself? You just do it, right? We rely on autopilot to take care of it for us. But mindfulness asks us to pause. What if, instead of going through the motions, you noticed the feeling of your feet touching the floor, the coolness of the glass in your hand, the sensation of the water on your lips? That’s mindfulness—being fully present in something so simple, yet so overlooked. It’s not about changing the act; it’s about noticing it.

In my meditation classes, I teach a technique that’s about gently bringing awareness back to the present. We’re not trying to stop the thoughts—because, let’s be real, that’s impossible—but we learn not to get too absorbed by them. Like waves in the ocean: the thoughts come and go, but we can stay grounded in the present moment, observing them without letting them carry us away. This simple shift can help us avoid getting overwhelmed and instead feel a little more centered.

For neurodivergent individuals, and most others, mindfulness is not just about quieting the mind—it’s about making space to accept our mind as it is, without trying to change it or force it into something else. The practice of mindfulness helps us manage the mental fluctuations—often referred to as Chitta Vritti—by allowing us to observe our thoughts without getting swept away by them. This constant instability of thoughts, the erratic shifts in attention, is astrologically linked to the planet Mercury. Mercury governs communication, mental processes, and agility, but it's also the unstable, erratic energy of the mind that makes "Monkey Mind" a fitting term.

Neurodivergent brains process information differently due to something called neural pruning. This process naturally occurs in childhood and adolescence, where the brain trims away excess connections (synapses) to improve efficiency. However, in neurodivergent individuals, particularly those with autism, neural pruning may be less efficient. This means there are more synapses than usual, which can lead to sensory overload and persistent thoughts. It’s like our minds have more to process, which makes mindfulness even more valuable. Mindfulness gives us space to let those thoughts come and go without being overwhelmed by them.

Esoterically, Aries, the sign of initiation and action, is the energy that helps us reign in those scattered thoughts. Aries brings the discipline to redirect mental energy and focus, which serves as the antidote to the instability of Chitta Vritti. When we draw upon Aries’ ability to take decisive action, we can harness the restless mind, bringing it back to the present with greater strength and clarity.

I’ve learned that even if I can only practice mindfulness for a few minutes, it makes a difference. For my son, who doesn’t have the ability to mask his ADHD, mindfulness looks different—he might be able to sit for just a minute or two before needing to move. And that’s okay. His practice honors where he’s at, he’s engaging in a way that works for him. The beauty of mindfulness is that no two practices are alike, and I celebrate these unique ways we each find our stillness.

I’ve seen neurodivergent individuals, from children to adults, connect deeply with mindfulness practices like sound baths, yoga, chanting, and walking in nature. Autist children especially remind me that mindfulness is something we don’t have to learn—we already know it deep down, we just need to remember it.

For neurodivergent individuals, mindfulness is more than a practice. It’s a way to navigate a world that can feel overwhelming. By trusting ourselves, by letting go of the fear of taking the mask off, we allow ourselves to breathe a little deeper. We learn that by being present, we’re not abandoning anyone or anything—we’re giving ourselves permission to exist as we truly are. This isn’t just self-care—in my opinion, it’s essential.

If you’re feeling ready to explore mindfulness, my suggestion is to begin with small steps. Take a breath, listen to the world around you, or focus on something close by. A few minutes can change how you feel in that moment. In creating this space for yourself, you’re not leaving anything behind—you’re giving yourself room to grow. And remember, there’s no pressure to get it “just right”—your practice is yours, and it evolves as you do.