Here’s an idea about planning for neurodivergence… and it’s more than just making lists and following. When my son was anxious about a new plan to stay after school to walk home with his friends, this was a big big deal… I won’t go into the increasing anxiety it produced for 48 hours… but take my word for it. All I said on repeat was, “Let’s make a plan,” and he ran with it—made a map, and with guidance, I was able to help him process where, when, and what he would ask certain peers and update adults about. Strategically this helped. BUT I also helped him align by telling him what I noticed about his body, and how his nervous system was working with him as he went from unstuck to “smart brain” thinking, and his body followed. I wanted him to notice that! He did.

The common advice for managing neurodivergent challenges is to make a list, create a schedule, or use a visual timer. While these are valuable tools, they often fall short because they only focus on the output (the task) and ignore the input (the overwhelmed nervous system). When anxiety is high, the “smart brain”—the prefrontal cortex responsible for executive functions like planning and sequencing—simply goes offline.

The Real “Plan Before the Plan”: Before you can ask a child (or an adult) to follow a multi-step schedule, you need to ensure their body and brain are ready to process it. This involves three critical shifts:

1. Scaffolding the Nervous System: Instead of rushing to the logistics, start by creating a sense of safety. Set up the intervention to involve narration and validation. Don’t dismiss the anxiety; you simply acknowledge what you see: “Your body looks like it's unstuck.” This names the feeling without judgment and prevents the nervous system from escalating into a full fight-or-flight response. When the system settles, the “smart brain” has a chance to come back online.
2. Cultivating Interoception (Body-Brain Alignment): The most crucial step in my story is to ask if he notices the change: “I see your body is calmer– what do you notice?” This teaches the self-awareness that is often a struggle for neurodivergent individuals. Help to guide and put language forward to help connect to one’s internal state (anxiety/calm) to “his” external output (planning/action).

3. Prioritizing Agency and Co-Creation: The plan succeeded because it was his plan. When I said, “Let’s make a plan,” he ran with it and made the map. This gives him ownership and taps into his preferred way of learning (visual/spatial). My role was not to dictate the route but to guide the strategy of the plan—the “who, what, and when” of communication—which is often the most anxiety-producing element.

Ultimately, the takeaway for anyone supporting a neurodivergent person isn’t to draw better maps, but to teach the steps, or the meta-skill: how to use a physical plan as a container for emotional safety. When we focus on helping the nervous system regulate first, we equip our loved ones to manage anxiety and execute their own plans, turning moments of stress into opportunities for autonomy.