Consciousness: Where Does It Begin, and What Do I Recall?

It feels like humanity is on the verge of a great awakening.

For centuries, so much of what we didn’t understand about ourselves and the universe has gone unanswered. Now, we stand on the cusp of breakthroughs—technological advancements in artificial intelligence, medicine, and even consciousness itself. Conditions that were once viewed as understood and explained are now being revisited with fresh eyes, yielding new insights and possibilities.

But progress comes with questions. What if some of the hypotheses that we’ve built our understanding on are flawed? What if the conclusions we’ve drawn—painstakingly backed by research, peer review, and medical literature—miss the deeper truths of human experience?

One such area is neurodivergence. Over the past century, we’ve created labels to define people whose character traits differ from the majority. These labels—autism, ADHD, dyslexia, schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, and others—have shaped how society provides care. Or, in many cases, how society fails to provide that care at all.

We see this failure most starkly in the justice system. Vulnerable people, high percentages of which come from  disadvantaged backgrounds, There is also purported to be a high percentages of neurodivergent people incarcerated. Many of which have never received the appropriate support at any stage of their lives.

<According to the Australian Institute of Health and Welfare’s 2018 findings, people with disabilities constitute 29% of the prison population, despite making up only 18% of the general population>. There’s no denying that some of those that are held in remand are guilty of some incredibly heinous crimes, and they deserve to be locked away, never to be free again. However there would be many who would better served by being treated in an open and supportive environment. It feels like an echo of the past, where penal colonies were the solution for societal misfits. A hungry child steals a loaf of bread and is banished to the other side of the world, left to learn their “lesson” in solitude.

Have we really moved forward? Or are we still punishing people for the ways they don’t fit the mould?

My Son Oscar: A Window into Neurodivergence

My understanding of neurodivergence became personal in 2023, at age 48, when I was diagnosed with ADHD. That diagnosis was the result of my son, Oscar, being diagnosed six months earlier.

Oscar has always been unique. Even before he was born, my wife and I felt his presence. During her pregnancy, we’d talk to him—ask him questions—and he’d respond. Not with words, of course, but with movement. “Are you a wriggling worm?” we’d ask, and he’d wriggle in response. “Are you wide awake?” and we’d feel his movements start as confirmation.

These interactions continued after he was born. Oscar was inquisitive, courageous, and carefree from the start. By seven months, he was speaking in his own unique way, blurting out phrases like “HuzzzAaar.” Which we later translated to be Oscar. We’d be woken often during the to the sound of him calling his own name.  By his first birthday, he was walking. Every day brought something new—smalls advancements that always left us in awe.

I often found myself wondering, How did I have a part in creating this incredible human being? It didn’t make sense to me. I struggled to rationalise it. It was hard to make sense of.

Oscar’s curiosity and determination kept us busy. He wanted to touch, feel, and taste everything. Sleep was a luxury he didn’t seem to need—40 minutes here or there was enough for him. We were always on our toes, chasing after him as he explored his world.

Shared Neurodivergence

As Oscar has grown, so has my understanding of neurodivergence. His diagnosis opened a door for me—a way to see myself more clearly. In the past 2 years, we’ve learned so much about each other.

Oscar is now ten years old, still the same curious, courageous, and carefree child he’s always been. He has a close group of friends who, I’d like to think, see the same qualities in him that we do: loyalty, trustworthiness, full of spirit.

As parents, we’ve tried to instil values in him while allowing him the freedom to carve his own path. We intervene when necessary but resist the urge to hover. We believe in learning from life’s experiences, even the challenging ones.

Our approach to parenting has sparked debate, even within our own family. Some see it as controversial, but we stand by it. We’ve seen how neurodivergence can be a strength when nurtured and embraced. Oscar understands that to.

My Own Journey

Oscar’s diagnosis led me to mine, and since then, I’ve been on a journey of continuous learning. With ADHD, every day is a balancing act—a cascade of thoughts, emotions, and impulses. But I’ve begun to see patterns, connections, and truths that were once obscured.

For me, ADHD is only part of the picture and its widely known that one Neurodivergent condition. A kin to a gate crasher at a 21st  birthday party during the 90’s, ADHD will often turn up invited and it will often bring uninvited friends, such as Autism, as a co-occurring condition. This is something that my medical team and I are beginning to understand.

Reflecting on my childhood, I see how traits of neurodivergence have shaped my life in ways I didn’t understand at the time. There’s one story my mother tells—of a time when I was admitted to PMH as a baby. I was completely unsettled, impossible to settle, crying endlessly. Often demanded attention. We lived in regional WA at the time and the the local doctors couldn’t find anything physically wrong, my parents (especially my mother) were distraught. Looking back, I wonder: Was that my first expression of being overwhelmed by a world that didn’t quite fit?

The Bigger Picture

Through Oscar, I’ve been able to revisit my own past with new eyes. I’ve begun to piece together the puzzle of my life, seeing how neurodivergence runs through it like a thread.

This journey has also opened my eyes to the bigger picture. Neurodivergence isn’t a flaw or a disorder—it’s a different way of experiencing the world. It’s a source of creativity, courage, resilience, and connection. And it’s time society began to see it that way too.

For Oscar, the journey is just beginning. For me, it’s an ongoing process of discovery. Together, we’re learning what it means to be neurodivergent, not just as individuals but as part of a larger story—a story that humanity is only just beginning to understand.