“Mind and Body” or “Mind in Body”?
Being is perceived differently across the globe and it’s a unique experience for everyone. There is no one answer to the way we see ourselves or perceive our spaces. This subject is very deep and complex, so I will begin by asking myself this question “Am I “Mind and Body” or “mind in body”?
The concepts of "mind in body" and "mind and body" are related to the philosophical and scientific understanding of the relationship between the mental and physical aspects of human existence. “Mind in body" is often associated with monism, which is the philosophical view that the mind and body are ultimately part of the same substance or reality. In this view, there is no fundamental separation between mental and physical aspects; they are two facets of the same underlying reality.
Within "mind in body," some variations lean toward materialism. Materialism posits that everything, including mental states, can be explained by physical processes and is reducible to the material world. Mental states are seen as being entirely grounded in the body and brain.
“Mind and Body” is associated with dualism, which is the philosophical view that the mind and body are fundamentally distinct substances. Dualism suggests that there is a separation between the mental and physical aspects of human existence. This means that mind and body are different substances with different properties. It suggests that the mind is non-physical and not reducible to the physical world.
I can say, I am “mind in body” and that defines my relationship with space. With this in mind, I have come to realize after many years, that I perceive space differently due to the cognitive and sensory challenges associated with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD). When navigating space, I overlook or miss intricate features and elements that seem so noticeable to others. I have difficulties with spatial memory. I struggle with the grey colors of office space. I struggle to remember the layout of the building, the location of items in a room, or where I parked my car. At times I perceive spaces with a hyperfocus and may see details in a space that others are not paying attention to. I’m also very sensitive to lighting and contrasting colors. For example. I can’t go into a space such as AKIA, the lighting and the layout give me so much anxiety and I can’t find the door even when there are arrows everywhere leading to the door. My cognitive and emotional experience is deeply intertwined with my physical sensations. My brain is constantly seeing spaces as a maze and trying to figure out an exit into a place of comfort.
But I’m not alone, according to the National Institute of Mental Health (NIMH), It's estimated that approximately 6 million children and 8.7 million adults in the United States have been diagnosed with ADHD. Just imagine, 8.7 million adults likely don’t remember where they parked their cars, and don’t perceive space the way most people do. Individuals with ADHD have unique perceptions of their "being" and experiences that are influenced by the symptoms and challenges associated with the condition.
During my research, I came across an architect known as Andrew Atwood. Atwood's work and writings often challenge conventional architectural norms and explore innovative ideas and perspectives within the discipline. He has published essays and works that have contributed to the discourse on contemporary architecture. Andrew Atwood's notable works, including "Not Interesting: On the Limits of Criticism in Architecture," have gained attention within the architectural community for their thought-provoking insights and unconventional viewpoints.
In today's architecture, Andrew Atwood's "Not Interesting: On the Limits of Criticism in Architecture" introduces an eye-opening concept known as ADD Architecture. This idea challenges the traditional norms in the field and addresses how we handle attention and distraction. Atwood's take on the "not interesting" approach suggests that we should separate our attention from our interest. Instead of categorizing, he encourages us to meander through our observations, embracing the confusion and complexity of architectural interpretations. He also proposes an "an-aesthetic," which means looking at things that are hidden or receding into the background. In a world filled with distractions and the blending of reality and representation, Atwood's perspective prompts us to rethink the role of architecture, emphasizing that it thrives on complexity and defies easy definition.
Indeed, the world of ADHD is a world where the boundaries between "Mind in Body" and "Mind and Body" blur and shift, where the perception of space is an ever-changing landscape, and where the power of design and understanding can transform the experiences of millions. In recognizing this, I acknowledge the significance of creating spaces that cater to the unique "Being" of those with ADHD, affirming the richness and complexity of the human experience in all its diverse forms. Learning about “being” opened my eyes to search for ADHS friendly spaces and I was very happy to see that some firms are thinking of this disorder. For my future firm, I would ask my clients to tell a story of their minds and I would ask them if they’re “Mind in Body” or “Mind and Body” before I start the projects.
On the other hand, I wonder how others who don’t have ADHD perceive space and why most spaces that are complex to people with ADHD seem so simple to them. Are ADHD-friendly spaces difficult or uncomfortable for people without ADHD? Where is the middle ground that would allow an architect to find design solutions that would cater to everyone? It’s a question worth answering even though it may be impossible.
References:
Home design for the ADHD mind | RIBA Chartered XUL Architecture
Attention Deficit Disorder Architecture | Architect Magazine
