Candlelight
Achieving Goals with Neurodivergence
I strike the match against the phosphorous strip. It ignites. I lower the matchstick towards the cotton wick. It catches. I blow the small stick out at half a centimeter burnt. The wick sparks. I don’t trim my wicks before I light them. The flame moves lower, and lower, until a small pool of “Lavender Shores” wax reaches my nose. The flame pulls to the left, rising up and down like watching the waves roll in. Any movement in the room pulls the flame. A light draft from the vents. Reaching up to scratch behind my left ear. The pool grows to a puddle, melted wax spreading towards the outskirts of the tin frame. I hope it meets the ridge left by the last time I blew this candle out too early. You’re supposed to let the candle burn until an even layer of wax has melted. I try earnestly. Sometimes life gets in the way. I rarely calculate how long it will take to burn to an even layer, and sometimes I need to blow it out leaving a ridge to the rim. Premature extinguishing with a scar.
If I opened the window, there’s a chance that a breeze would blow the flame out. If I left the room, I would need to blow it out myself for safety. If I sighed too hard, too close, it would cease to burn.
These aren’t excuses. They’re the effects of actions I need to take. I need ventilation. Fresh air is the easiest way to remove the stale lingering in a room. The essence of what’s already been. I open the window to welcome a new day. New air for new guests. New air for myself. I don’t want to live in stale air. I need to leave the room sometimes. I chose this work because I can’t be chained to the desk for an entire workday. At the easiest excuse, I’m fidgety and need breaks. At the most complicated, I have other things I need to do. Having one concern on my schedule would be too easy. Obligations to fulfill outside of the room where I do my creative work makes me blow the candle out. When I am focused on creating I will pause from time to time. As much as I wish that flow reached me at each moment I sit down with the intention to create, it doesn’t. I try to limit my desk time to moments when I know I can flow. That isn’t always reasonable.
If I need to blow the candle out, does it mean I have failed? Does it mean that I cannot sustain a grind? Booty in chair, fingers methodically pressing keys, phone on silent and turned over? Focus is a luxury for moments when all is taken care of and my time on the computer is what matters most. But how do I overpower the urge to distract myself? Do I use my candle as a timer? Maybe my attention is too split. Maybe I’m in an unrealistically busy season of life. Am I?
I keep a close eye on the screen time on my phone. I’d like to brag that yesterday my total screen time for the whole day was 46 minutes. I have not accomplished a total that low in recent memory. A few months ago when my schedule and routine looked exactly the same as it does today, my screen time was over 5 hours in a single day. I was embarrassed. Is that how I want to spend my time? Is that a waste of my life? I felt the need to stay up-to-date. With what? What was so important that I dedicated a third of my waking hours to being on that damn phone? I’ve made a conscious effort to reduce my screen time. This takes the form of: notifications off unless someone is trying to send me a message, responding to non-urgent inquiries in appropriate windows, and only checking apps when I have a specific reason to. That’s how I got to 46 minutes. Yesterday after lunch, when I would typically check Instagram with good intentions of a brief update that problematically turns into too long scrolling, I read a really boring book instead. It calmed my mind. I used to approach scrolling with the idea that it was a way to calmly kill a few minutes. It’s not. For me, at least. Reading a really boring book for a chapter, or even a few pages, makes me feel rested. When I’m so bored of the book, I can get back to work.
With neurodivergence, I need to work with my brain to accomplish my goals. I need to light the flame on the wick of the candle and figure out the ways to let it burn until it’s ready to be blown out. Focus was already difficult for me. I’m trying to build sustained focus over a period of several months, instead of my usual routine of jumping ship to a shiny new buoy after 12 weeks or so. This is my sixth week publishing on Substack. Half way to the jumping ship point, traditionally. Let’s celebrate once we reach that 3-month milestone.
The reasons it’s working for me so far are:
I like doing it. Writing is what I’ve always come back to my whole life. It’s what I’m meant to do, and I want to make this my career.
I’m starting slow. Previously I’ve rushed into a new career. I’ll start a brand-new job in a brand-new field, enroll in classes in that field, and burn out once the shiny has dulled.
It’s balanced with my life. I have the time to pursue it by shifting my available windows towards this goal. I can still take care of the rest of my responsibilities.
It energizes me. I come away from writing with ideas flowing that I’m excited to share. I don’t feel completely drained after a long day focusing on writing.
The candle is still burning. The pool of wax has surpassed the ridge left from last time. It’s almost to the tin frame. I know I can sustain my focus until it’s ready to be blown out. The flame is dancing. It sways back and forth. It circles as if maintaining a hula hoop. The candle burns because I’ve addressed the excuses. I take Adderall to help me see tasks through to completion and not get distracted. It’s essential for me. Yes, it requires finding a psychiatrist, getting an evaluation, and discussing treatment options. It’s worth it. Just do it. Picture your life on the other side of gasping for air. Figure out what you need to accomplish your goals and take care of it. Routines help as well. If I misstep the order of operations from the moment I get out of bed, I’ll forget something. Set deadlines for menial responsibilities. Schedule them and follow through. If I’m going to achieve my goal of making it to the 4 month mark of this Substack, or the 6 month mark, or the 1 year mark, I need to publish each Friday. Those are the parameters for success for me. Start with a goal that you know you can achieve if you stick to it. And then actually stick to it.
My next step is building enough resilience through achieving my goals that I can set my sights on my wildest dreams. What is the upper limit of what I can achieve? I don’t know yet. I’ll keep moving the goal post through learning and growing. One of the most beautiful lessons I’ve learned so far is that I’ll never be “done”. When I give up and decide I’m “done” and there’s nothing left for me to achieve, what’s left to do? I would rather keep learning and growing for my entire life. I hope that’s my key to longevity.
Don’t give up until the wax reaches the rim and you’re happy with where you’re stopping. I’m telling this to you, and to myself. The key to advice is taking it yourself!
Author’s Note
This essay is being published a few hours late on February 6, 2026 at 6pm. I typically publish mid-day, however, my routine got interrupted and I had a hard time focusing. The important part is that I came back on later to fulfill the promise to myself. I’m actually sticking to it. Additionally, my screen time was 2 hours and 13 minutes today.
Connect with me on Instagram at @CatherineEmeraldQuill
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