Look out for the 'invitations' in your Attention issues
Why noticing your struggles can lead to insight, not just solutions.
Attention-related concerns are now widely reported in clinical settings. Short attention spans, high levels of distractibility, and difficulties focusing or sustaining attention on tasks are problems many people recognize in their daily lives. When we try to make sense of this, the first explanations that often come to mind are our increasing reliance on the digital world, the fast pace of a hyper-capitalist society, and a culture deeply shaped by social media platforms built around short-form content. In an environment designed to constantly capture and redirect our attention, perhaps it is not surprising that many of us struggle to stay focused.
At the same time, we are becoming increasingly aware of a label that helps many people make sense of attention-related difficulties they may have carried for a long time. ADHD is now more widely recognized and discussed as a society, although often in simplified forms. The language associated with this clinical category has become easily accessible, particularly through online spaces. Terms such as “dopamine highs” are frequently used to explain patterns of distraction or novelty-seeking, even though the idea of ADHD as a straightforward dopamine deficiency is not strongly supported by evidence-based science. What this widespread circulation of explanatory language suggests is that people are searching for ways to make sense of their experiences. Beneath the terminology lies a very human effort to understand why sustaining attention can feel so difficult in everyday life. Yet in clinical conversations about attention, another question often emerges beneath these explanations. Are our struggles with focus primarily shaped by neurodevelopmental differences, or are they expressions of relational and emotional worlds we inhabit?
The more I encounter these explanations in public discourse, the more curious I find myself becoming about attention itself, both in my own life and in my clinical work. I live with ADHD myself, and these questions often find their way into my own therapy sessions, where I have tried to make sense of them alongside my therapist. At the same time, I have been working as a therapist with both children and adults for the past nine years, and much of my work is with neurodivergent individuals. I did not intentionally set out to specialize in this area, but through a series of referrals, many of my clients happen to fall somewhere within the neurodivergence umbrella. Concerns about attention form a major chunk of what enters the therapy room, making this question a constant presence in my everyday life.
I began my own personal therapy nearly six years ago. Over time, one recurring point of discussion in that space has been exploring my own attentional patterns. In conversations with colleagues and friends who share a similar neurodivergent profile, I have noticed that this is not an uncommon experience. However, often when I would bring up difficulties related to executive functioning, the interpretation would often return to earlier life experiences and patterns shaped in childhood. Intellectually, I understood that from a psychodynamic perspective, struggles with organization, urgency, or last-minute work could be understood in relation to earlier environments that felt unstable or chaotic. While helpful, these explanations alone could not account for a fundamental aspect of ADHD: attention that thrives under immediacy and urgency, independent of past events.
What this revealed was a tension between two ways of understanding attention: one that looks to personal history and relational experience, and another that emphasises neurodevelopmental differences. At times, it can feel as though these explanations are in competition, as if there must be a single “right” answer for why attention works the way it does. Without clarity on the source of attentional patterns, it can leave individuals with a sense of conflicting guidance, as though there is a fixed destination where the system must be “corrected” rather than understood.
Looking back, I have come to appreciate the insights my therapist offered in new ways. Her perspective was not wrong. The chaos in life often made last-minute work almost inevitable. Yet ADHD added another layer, making it more difficult to perform at the level I was capable of. The work forward has been to hold both aspects in mind: the environmental patterns shaped by life circumstances and the neurodevelopmental tendencies inherent in ADHD. Recognising both allows for a more nuanced relationship with attention and productivity.
A similar tension often emerges in clinical work. It is common for clients who have a clear understanding of their attentional profile to still struggle with everyday productivity and time management. Despite this awareness, many report difficulty achieving their personal goals, and the ideal of a perfectly productive day often persists as a recurring form of distress. On reflection, I have often thought, 'Does this aspiration serve less as a literal objective and more as a way to manage underlying existential uncertainty?' The fantasy of a perfectly structured day can very well help us avoid deeper questions about the future, their sense of purpose, or what it means to navigate life with their unique attentional patterns.
Given the abundance of mental health information today, it is unsurprising that linear narratives explaining attention difficulties dominate. As Johann Hari argues in Stolen Focus, our ability to sustain attention is heavily shaped by social, technological, and environmental forces, rather than being solely an individual failing. Yet popular approaches often frame attention challenges as individual deficits or brain-based problems requiring simpler solutions: medication, self-help strategies, or consuming content from influencers. While these strategies may feel actionable, they often reduce a complex experience to something to be "fixed", bypassing a deeper question: what might these attentional patterns be inviting us to notice about the unconscious desires, conflicts, or relational dynamics shaping the way we move through our lives?
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