If I were put into a college lecture hall right now and told to

The words of Jeff Kinney, the creator of the beloved Diary of a Wimpy Kid, speak to a truth that many souls have long felt but few have dared to voice: “If I were put into a college lecture hall right now and told to pay attention for 45 minutes, it would be physically impossible for me to do. I'm one of those people who believe that ADD is a gift. It's tough to manage, but if you can harness it you can do great things.” In this confession, Kinney transforms what many call a weakness into a source of strength. He does not deny struggle—he embraces it, honors it, and from it draws power. His words are a beacon to those who have been told they are too restless, too distracted, too different to succeed.

In ages past, such words might have been spoken by a philosopher who saw divine purpose in every flaw. For in the ancient understanding, the universe gave each soul a unique flame—some steady and calm, others wild and flickering, but all capable of light. Attention Deficit Disorder, as the modern world calls it, may scatter one’s focus like leaves in the wind. Yet, as Kinney reminds us, in that very scattering lies a gift—the ability to see the world from many angles, to think in leaps instead of lines, to connect stars others do not see. To harness this energy is to turn chaos into creation.

Think of Leonardo da Vinci, that restless mind of the Renaissance, who could not confine himself to one discipline. He painted, invented, designed, and dreamed endlessly, often leaving projects unfinished. Some might have called him unfocused. But from that whirl of curiosity came visions centuries ahead of their time. His “distraction” was the very fire that illuminated the path of human progress. Like Kinney, Leonardo showed that the mind that wanders can also wonder, and in wondering, create marvels beyond measure.

Kinney’s insight also teaches humility and compassion. The world too often measures intelligence by conformity—by how still one can sit, how long one can listen, how neatly one can think. Yet greatness seldom blooms in straight lines. The restless child who cannot sit still may grow to move the world. The dreamer who drifts in thought may one day write stories that awaken millions. The artist who cannot follow a lecture may still follow the rhythm of genius hidden within. To believe that ADD is a gift is to see beyond society’s narrow walls and recognize the divine diversity of the human spirit.

But Kinney does not call this gift easy. He admits, “It’s tough to manage,” for all gifts carry weight. The same fire that warms can burn. Those who bear restless minds must learn the art of direction—of guiding their storm toward purpose. Like the sailor who tames the wind, one must learn to work with their nature, not against it. This is not discipline in the sense of suppression, but mastery through understanding. The one who learns to steer their own current discovers freedom, creativity, and a joy few can know.

Let us then remember that every so-called flaw conceals hidden strength. The challenge is not to become like others, but to master the self as one is. To those who struggle to focus, to sit, to think as others do—take heart. Your mind may dance differently, but that dance may create art, innovation, or insight that the still mind cannot. The key is not to silence your storm, but to learn its rhythm and make it sing.

The lesson is this: do not curse the shape of your spirit. Every gift, even the unruly ones, can become a source of greatness when embraced with patience and wisdom. Practical action: observe your patterns—your bursts of energy, your tides of thought—and learn how to ride them rather than resist them. Create environments that honor your rhythm. Build structure, but let it breathe. Turn frustration into fuel, and let self-acceptance become your foundation. For in mastering your own nature, you achieve the truest victory—not over others, but over doubt itself.

And when the world tells you that your mind does not fit its mold, remember the words of Jeff Kinney. Smile and say: perhaps the mold was too small.