ADHD-Friendly Gardening - Part I: Getting Started
- Mar 10
- 5 min read
Updated: 2 days ago
This past week I was interviewed by Insa, The Garden Witch, over at Spite & Bloom for their upcoming news letter, about AuDHD-friendly gardening and the challenges neurodivergents face with projects that create maintenance routines. I had such a blast, and honestly, I had so much to say that I'm breaking this into a three part series: AuDHD Friendly Gardening.
Insa is a fellow coach, I met through a neurodivergent community years ago! They're the brilliant mind behind Spite & Bloom, for gardeners who want to grow things without it becoming another source of stress or shame. Insa's been my garden coach & guru for the past two years, as I've built out my own little veggie garden (which makes being interviewed by them feel extra special). Also, that fact that Insa's seen me kill an entire garden and still wants my advice, makes me know I'm in a safe space! 🌱
In this three-part series, we're going to cover starting when everything feels impossible, working with the stop-start cycle instead of against it, and designing a garden your brain will actually show up for - plus what to do when plants die, our motivation dips, and how to give yourself permission to start again without getting trapped in the ADHD productivity/burnout/shame cycle.
Part I: Getting Started - "Starting When It Feels Impossible"
If you're neurodivergent and have ever killed a garden (hi, same), or wanted to start one and never quite got there, this one's for you!
Insa: What helps you start a project when overwhelm makes it feel impossible to even try?
Rachel: Honestly? I stopped looking at the whole project.
My personal motto, “what’s next, do that.” has served me super well here.
When a project feels impossible to start, the problem usually isn't the project - it's that your ADHD brain is trying to solve the whole thing at once. Analysis paralysis, second-guessing, endless research, the fear of making the "wrong" call before you even have enough information to know what wrong looks like... it's exhausting, and it stalls a lot of genuinely good work before it gets off the ground. The reframe that actually moves me: stop looking at the finish line and ask one question - "what's next? Do THAT." One small, low-stakes action. Set up the desk. Mix the paint. Reconnect with your references. That's it.
So I find the next physical action. Not "set up the garden." Not even "research plants." More like: go stand outside and mark where the raised beds are going to go. That's it. Just that. The brain does not need to know what comes after.
Insa: How do you decide where to start on a multi-step project like gardening?
Rachel: I look for the entry point with the highest sensory and physical payoff and the lowest consequence for doing it "wrong." For gardening specifically that was the build. Layering logs, bark, compost, soil. Physical. Visible payoff.
What I've learned (the hard way) is that the high-stakes maintenance tasks - watering, consistent attention, remembering where I planted things - need to be designed OUT of the project as early as possible. Because I will forget. Not because I stopped caring. Because that's how my brain works.
Insa: If you were REBOOTING your garden for your own ADHD/AuDHD brain, what would you do FIRST?
Rachel: For me? Solve the watering and fertilizer (inline) before I plant a single thing.
Because that's the part most likely to kill the garden. Not lack of interest. Not bad planning. The watering and nutrients. That's what got me last year.
Insa: What are common pitfalls neurodivergent beginners might face when starting gardening?
Rachel: Unfortunately, most advice for beginner gardeners assumes you will be motivated by long term results, can invest in daily rote activities like checking on your plants every day, remember exactly what you planted where, and enjoy consistent routine maintenance.
We are talking about farming here, and delayed gratification is not our strong suit -- for more information, Google: ADHD hunter-type vs farmer-type theory.
ADHDers are motivated by urgency, challenge, novelty, and interest (passion). So we need to build our systems for who we actually are, both the good and bad.
Capitalize on your best days: Rely on the initial hyper-focus phase, which makes everything feel possible, to tackle some of the big ticket systems.
Contingency plan for your worst days: Ask yourself: what part of this process is most likely to fall apart when my attention is lost? Build that system first. For me, that was a drip watering, manual timer, and fertilizer/compost bed, before I planted a single seed.
Another pitfall neurodivergent’s face is treating failure as information instead of evidence. We often are quick to focus on our failures, and go into a shame spiral due to societal conditioning. For example: I killed my entire garden last summer, in the first month! And for a hot minute there, I was convinced this meant I was not a "garden person." If I let that talk get the better of me, I would likely have dropped that project and picked up something new. Instead I reframed the situation to identify unmet support needs: I am a gardener who needs a drip system.
Dr. Janina Maschke's post on recharging the ADHD brain covers seven strategies for preventing this very burnout cycle.
Insa: How do you manage rigidity vs. flexibility when ADHD/Autism pull in opposite directions?
Rachel: UGH, I feel this internal tension in my bones! My ADHD gremlin wants to follow intuition, hyper-focus, and feature creep by bloating the project with too many side quests. While the autistic robot part of me wants a well structured plan, and a precise record of everything, that part often gets distressed when my systems are not in order.
What I've found is that I need to alternate. Sometimes I have to give the gremlin freedom to be messy first, and then after that give the robot the time it needs to document and organize. Let the impulsive starts happen with compassion. Then build the structure around what I actually did instead of what you planned to do.
In practice: I planted the chaos bed. Fine. But then I immediately forgot what was in there and accidentally planted over it with different seeds, and eventually noticed multiple plants fighting each other for the same spot. The lesson I took from this was to make a really basic physical map that my ADHD brain can fill in as I plant. Basic is key because that gremlin is not going to stop and fill in some tedious spreadsheet! Later, when my autistic side takes over, I can update my spreadsheets with what actually got planted, what grew vs what didn't, and other lessons learned and what I'll do differently next time.
In Summary
First, a HUGE thank you to Insa at Spite & Bloom for the interview opportunity and for creating a space where these conversations get to happen. Neurodivergent gardeners are out here doing our chaotic, impulsive, hyper-focused best - and it means everything to have people like Insa shining a light on the real challenges we face. Go check out Spite & Bloom and show them some love. 🌱
If there's one thing I want you to take away from this first installment, it's that your brain is not broken, it's just running different firmware.
Build your systems for the brain you actually have, not the one you wish you had on your best days.
Capitalize on your hyper-focus, contingency plan for your worst days, and for the love of all things growing - solve the watering before you plant a single seed.
Next up!
Next up we're going into the stop-start cycle, how to spot the signs of over-commitment before your garden (and your nervous system) pays the price, and how to sidestep the ADHD burnout cycle before it swallows the whole project.
Now, have a beautiful week and go touch grass!
--Rachel
