Learning from Neurodivergence

I find myself beginning again, with my fingertips tapping computer keys, late in the night, a cup of steaming tea on my side table and a radiating heat from the fire in my stove. This quiet time of night has been a place of bubbling creativity throughout my life, a place for my shy and colorful inner worlds to emerge. Tonight, in the steadiness of silence, layered with drafts of brisk autumn air through my cracked window, I begin writing again about my inner landscape, exploring a thread of my personal biodiversity, a texture of my animal nature: my neurodivergence.