25-03-25 – Reflection Journal

I've had a new idea—though I'll admit, it feels a bit like a shoehorn. It's one of those cases where I've come across something I like, and now I'm trying to make it fit, even if it wasn't born out of pure inspiration. The idea is to incorporate the Fibonacci sequence somehow.

It might be bordering on dangerous territory—trying to force a concept just because it looks cool—but maybe there's a way to make it work. I was struck by the spiral pattern and how it contrasts with the rigid, squared structure of farmland. There's something poetic there: squares like agricultural plots (order, control, systems), and spirals representing growth that defies that structure (nature, intuition, divergence). That tension mirrors ADHD's relationship to the neurotypical world.

It might be a bit of a stretch, but maybe there's potential in using it as a visual metaphor within the project. The Fibonacci badge I saw online inspired me—cryptic, layered, and symbolic. Definitely more exciting than a generic "brain" badge.

I've decided that today, instead of refining the content itself, I'm going to focus on sharing the idea more openly. Bringing allies into the process. Not trying to do all of this alone. I don't want to drag people in—I want to find the people who want to be part of this.

This is starting to feel like a legacy piece—something truly innovative. And I know I can't sell people into believing in it. I just need to find the ones already inclined to. It's like the adoption curve:

• The 2–3% innovators

• The 16% early adopters

• The 70% majority (who need to see others doing it first)

• The resistant 16%

• And finally, the 2–3% who never change

I'm not designing for the last group. They won't change—and that's fine. I wouldn't take advice from them, so why take their criticism? The 70% in the middle—that's who the experience is designed for. But I need the early adopters to help build it.

So, I'm opening up to the idea of not doing this entirely on my own. That's hard for me. I don't like giving up control. But maybe it's not about giving up control—it's about sharing the vision. Letting others co-create could also make it more accessible.

A quote on my wall reminds me:

"It's not about how hard you hit. It's about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward."

That fits. I've been knocked around a bit by recent conversations and pushback. But I'm still here, moving forward. Another quote I carry with me:

"Never find yourself in a fair fight."

Maybe I walked into the last meeting thinking it was chess, only to realise I was playing with someone who didn't know the rules—like playing chess with a pigeon. They knock over the pieces, crap on the board, and strut around like they've won.

Still, I've got to find another path forward. Reassess. Restructure.

And when the resistance whispers, "You can't handle the storm," I whisper back:

"I am the storm."

I want something powerful like that sprayed on the wall—a quote like:

"Hope lies in the smouldering rubble of empires."

Maybe I can use that as a clue—part of the immersive experience. Participants could search for "fallen empires" as a metaphor. I could even build that into the game—books on fictional or historical empires that reflect ADHD themes. Characters who personify symptoms—like Bart Simpson as a symbol of hyperactivity. Might be a challenge to make it relevant, but it's an idea.

Maybe even create fake book titles to be hidden around a simulated office—mystery, metaphor, narrative. That could really work.

Next Steps:

• Start sharing the core idea with trusted allies

• Explore symbolic design—e.g. Fibonacci spiral, badges, quotes

• Reframe collaboration as co-creation, not loss of control

• Build clues and metaphors into the narrative structure

• Anchor everything in meaning—not just aesthetics

This could work. Let's find out.