For most of my life, I carried the guilt of starting too many things and finishing too few. Every time I switched gears, the inner critic showed up. Was I wasting time? Being flaky? I didn’t have the words for it back then. Just a gut feeling that choosing one thing meant betraying the rest.

That changed in 2020. My coach introduced me to the word multipotentiality. It flipped everything. I wasn’t failing to focus. I was wired to integrate a bunch of interests. Suddenly, programming supported my art. Kinetic sculptures clicked thanks to Arduinos. Storytelling shaped how I approached design. Even my fishing hobby collided with Victorian acclimatization societies and found its way into my art.

Once I accepted how my mind works, the self-criticism ceased. Starting something became enough. Each new project, no matter how short-lived, nourished my mind. If I feel joy in the moment, I know I’m on the right track. That’s it. It’s not complicated.

A few months ago, I built a weird little building for my model railroad, a parallelogram squeezed into a tricky spot. Inkjet-printed ghost signs, a SketchUp 3D printed front, working lights inside. It pulled together years of random skills. Design, electronics, architecture, miniatures. All of it mattered.

A friend with ADHD once told me our brains are alike… scattered for sure, but wired for connection. I probably have a mild undiagnosed form of it. It doesn’t matter. That conversation helped me stop pathologizing myself and start honoring what I am.

I don’t know if I’ve inspired anyone yet. But I hope so. Because the moment you stop trying to narrow your mind to one lane, the world gets a lot wider.

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