Sarah Jane Keyser : ADHD Coach

When I started to plan this newsletter I was thinking about a birthday
party for Joey. When I came to write it, I thought wait. "He won't be
one year old until next month. We didn't celebrate my grand daughter's
birthday, born on the 23rd of January, on the 23rd of December we
celebrated on the 23rd of January, and	it's bad luck to celebrate a
birthday in advance. By this time I had collected a number of thoughts
about celebrating so that's what I'm sharing with you this month.

What do you celebrate? Do you celebrate winning? Do you celebrate
experience? Or do you sometimes just celebrate now? Or perhaps all
three?

Winning the Grand National is something to celebrate. The Grand
National at Aintree, England is the Mount Everest of  steeple chase
racing. Horses gallop  4 1/2 miles and jump 30 fences. Rich men dream
of winning, but money can't buy it and the favorite rarely wins. What a
high risk stimulating ADHD adventure!

This year the race was won by Numbersixvalverde owned, trained and
ridden by men who had never been to The Grand National before. Call it
beginner's luck or magic but certainly something to celebrate. What an
adrenaline high, better than winning the lottery and at even longer
odds.

The problem with the high of winning is the low that follows. Some
people get hooked on the high of winning and can't stop trying; we call
them gamblers 

I've never won much of anything. I had a quirky horse named Sterling;
He was a beautiful jumper. In training he would fly over fences, but as
soon as he went into a show ring and the bell rang, his preferred
direction was backwards. My greatest success in the Grand National
department was to complete two rounds in one day in the home paddock
finishing fifth once, small peanuts for most. Not many people open a
bottle of Champagne for finishing fifth, but I still relish the
achievement because it was all mine. 

Occasionally I win a bridge tournament, but I know luck plays a big
part. In fact I rarely win  because I can't seem to get through an
evening of bridge without making goofy, ADD mistakes. What I enjoyed
most was a wink and a smile across the table from my husband to let me
know it was alright.

On the same day as the Grand National, I attended a different kind of
celebration, a party to celebrate the experiences of a life-time, at a
40th wedding anniversary. They had invited their friends from all the
different corners of their lives. It didn't matter that I didn't know
many people, I just met new ones.

We used to share a water-ski boat on Lake Geneva with them. They sold
the boat to build a catamaran which they took to Greece, and now
they've sold the catamaran to buy a caravan. They plan to see all of
the Europe they missed while rushing between England, Geneva and Greece
storing up more experiences for their fiftieth anniversary.

They're a great couple.  They relate every slip and mishap with such
relish that it becomes cause for celebration. Even the night of their
party, he was struck down by a bug, nonetheless he arrived looking less
than the best. By the end of the evening he was dancing and celebrating
with the rest into the small hours of the morning.

I couldn't possibly organize such an event and I wouldn't be
comfortable anyway. I would be overwhelmed and space out, too many
people, too much movement.

My own form of celebrating focuses on much smaller things, everyday
things, now or anytime of the year.  My dance hall is the open sky and
green fields. I have to be outside everyday, rain or shine with a dog
or a horse. I celebrate the first crocus, the songs of	returning birds
in the spring, the smell of new mown grass, the golden glow of the late
afternoon sun and the red orange purple sunset, a smile,  and a tone of
voice which says welcome.

If getting there is half the fun, being there is the other half. 
Enjoy it all.

Adventures of Joey the ADHD Zebra Who Has No Stripes

Joey is busy planning his party for next month, but he sent me this story. He thought it was appropriate to my theme:

A champion jockey is about to enter an important race on a new horse. The horse's trainer meets him before the race and says, "All you have to remember with this horse is that every time you approach a jump, you have to shout, 'ALLLLEEE OOOP!' really loudly in the horse's ear. Providing you do that, you'll be fine."

The jockey thinks the trainer is mad but promises to shout the command.

The race begins and they approach the first hurdle. The jockey ignores the trainer's ridiculous advice and the horse crashes straight through the center of the jump.

They carry on and approach the second hurdle. The jockey, somewhat embarrassed, whispers "Aleeee ooop" in the horse's ear. The same thing happens--the horse crashes straight through the center of the jump.

At the third hurdle, the jockey thinks, "It's no good, I'll have to do it," and yells, "ALLLEEE OOOP!" really loudly. Sure enough, the horse sails over the jump with no problems. This continues for the rest of the race, but due to the earlier problems the horse only finishes third.

The trainer is fuming and asks the jockey what went wrong. The jockey replies, "Nothing is wrong with me--it's this bloody horse. What is he--deaf or something?"

The trainer replies, "Deaf?? DEAF?? He's not deaf--he's BLIND!"

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