The Joy of Summer Isn’t Always the Productivity You Thought It’d Be

(Permission to slow down, even when everything feels like it’s revving up)

I used to think summer meant finally getting everything done.

Organizing the house.
Deep cleaning the car.
Reading the books.
Starting the hobbies.
Finally catching up on all the life stuff I’d been dropping all spring.

You know—thriving. It’s vacation time, after all!

But every year, summer would arrive—sunny and bright and buzzing with potential— and I’d find myself barefoot in the kitchen, overstimulated and somehow more behind than before. Guiltier, too.

Because here’s the truth:

🌞 I think sunshine will make me productive.
🌞 Turns out, it just makes me tired.

My brain wears rose-colored glasses in summer.

Every. Single. Year. I get this rush of motivation like, Yes! This is the season I finally declutter the garage, organize the kids’ artwork, launch that side project, start meal prepping, catch up on sleep, and somehow become a barefoot goddess who gardens in the morning and journals at night.

I make the lists. I color-code the calendar. I feel that summer optimism buzz through my system like iced coffee on an empty stomach. And every time, I forget the simplest thing:

Life. Still. Happens.

There’s still laundry. Still emails. Still executive dysfunction. Still “Mom, I’m bored” on repeat. And honestly? There’s more of it in the summer.  More interruptions. More social expectations. More noise. More heat… And a lot less structure.

Even when I want to do something—like organize a closet or plant flowers— time slips through my fingers like sand.

Let’s Talk Time Blindness.

It’s one of those ADHD traits that’s hard to explain until you’ve lived it. Time doesn’t tick in steady intervals—it disappears. You start cleaning the garage at 10 am, thinking, “This’ll only take a couple of hours.” Then suddenly it’s 8 pm, you’re sunburnt, the driveway looks like a disaster zone, and dinner hasn’t happened.

There’s no internal clock saying, Hey, maybe take a break… maybe reevaluate the plan… maybe eat lunch, you chaotic delight.

Instead, there’s hyperfocus. Or avoidance. Or both.

And when the day ends without a “win,” the shame creeps in: Why can’t I just get things done like everyone else?

I’ve been learning this truth every year, hoping that one year the lesson would stick. 

When, finally, it did:

🌞 Summer doesn’t fix executive dysfunction.
🌞 Optimism isn’t the same as capacity.
🌞 Wanting to do it all doesn’t mean you should.

Nature Was Trying to Show Me Something.

It was in one of those moments when I wasn’t sure if I should laugh or cry at the insanity of my to-do list for the day, when I started to shake out of the impossible cage I had put myself in… 

It started small: A breeze through the window. A dandelion pushing up through the sidewalk. A bird singing outside while I stared blankly at my to-do list.

I’d feel this pull—not toward tasks or structure—but toward stillness. Observation. Wonder. …Joy?

But my brain would push back: Shouldn’t you be doing something?

And that’s when I realized: My nervous system didn’t want a project. It wanted peace.

Summer Joy, but Make it Neurodivergent.

For a long time, I equated summer with achievement. More energy = more doing… right?

But when you’re neurodivergent, energy doesn’t always translate to output. Sometimes it just means sensory overload, internal pressure, and a long nap to recover from grocery shopping. It means wanting to declutter the basement, but ending up organizing your sock drawer for four hours while a podcast plays at 2x speed and the chicken for dinner sits forgotten on the counter.

Neurodivergence isn’t just quirky memes and chaos energy; it’s layered, lived, and deeply affected by pressure (even the good kind).

And yet, this season has a softness to it, too. One that invites me to slow down, even when everything around me is speeding up. 

It shows up in the garden I forgot to water that still manages to bloom.

In the ice cream truck song that will someday make my kiddo scream with delight, but for now gives us a soft hum-along tune during naptime.
It’s in the sunlight dappling the kitchen floor while I sip coffee, doing absolutely nothing “productive.”

That is joy. That is enough.

How Do You Make Peace With a Summer Brain?

Honestly? It’s not about lowering the bar. It’s about redefining the win.

Here’s what that’s looked like for me and my clients:

✅ Planning with margins. Leave space for transitions, sensory needs, and kid chaos.
✅ Prioritizing capacity over ambition. Just because it fits on the calendar doesn’t mean it fits in your nervous system.
✅ Releasing the “all or nothing” trap. A half-finished garage project is still progress.
✅ Giving joy a seat at the table. If it’s not fun or fulfilling—or necessary—maybe it can wait.

It’s okay if your summer doesn’t look like a productivity montage. It can be slower. Softer. Still sacred.

You Don’t Need to Hustle for Worthiness.

The sun being out doesn’t mean you have to be “on.” You don’t have to earn your rest by pushing past your limits. You don’t have to prove your usefulness by overcommitting. You don’t have to do more just because the world looks brighter.

You’re allowed to experience summer as a human being, not a project manager.

✨ Let’s start something together:
Tell me your favorite “quiet joy” of the season. The thing that fills your cup even when everything else feels loud or unfinished. 

Let’s build a list of ADHD-affirming, nervous-system-approved summer wins.

Maybe it’s:

🌿 A flower you didn’t plant that showed up anyway
🍓 The taste of fresh berries when your brain finally lets you enjoy them
📖 Reading the same chapter three times because your mind wandered, but loving the story anyway
☕ A moment where you let yourself be still, on purpose

Let’s celebrate the slow, sacred wins of a summer that doesn’t have to be anything more than yours.

With sun-dappled softness,

Your ADHD & Autism Guide,
—Dr. Ali

P.S. If you’re in a season of slowing down, check out my ADHD Amazon Store. It’s full of cozy, creative, chaos-friendly tools to support your version of summer joy.

Sometimes the right support isn’t about getting more done, it’s about feeling a little more at home in your own brain. 💛