Friendship is Hard Work, not skills management

December 15, 2007

In class this past Sunday our fearless instructor asked a leading question.

But first, I know he is fearless not only because he stands in front of our persnickety class, but because he has admitted his failings and seems at peace with them. That is courage.
So our fearless leader asked a leading question (drat, no pun intended) ( I don't like puns). It went something like this...If you walk into your kitchen and your Mom is standing at the sink crying, what do you do?

Now this is a very simplistic question that does not take into account any history between mother and child. Yet what happened was very informative and eye-opening for me. My classmate answered along these lines: “Why, I would go up to her and ask what is wrong and see if I could comfort her.”

However, others of us responded more emotionally: “I would leave quickly!”

Now back story left out, that is quite a contrast in responses....reassure or runaway?
I could get meandering along and question whether one response is neurotypical and empathetic while the other response may be more along Aspergian reactions but I wish to go somewhere else with this.

Relationship is hard work, very hard work. And those who are “neurotypical” seem to grasp the intricacies of social context in an easy going manner. But is that true? Witness the huge numbers of divorces, and that doesn't reflect the number of broken relationships between singles or same gender partnerships. Witness the professional categories of lawyers, counselors, psychologists growing well past the proportion economics ordinarily indicate. Witness the statistics for suicide, substance abuse, and school violence.

Wow. Now that you are totally depressed and feel complete revulsion about a possible relationship with me, let's head back to FRIENDSHIP.

Friendship is an ideal. Friends listen. Friends offer support during joyful times and harsh times. Friends respond. Friends accept you as you are. Friends go with you on your journey(s). Friends comfort, encourage, enlighten, amuse, sing, and dance and cry with you.

Such an ideal, ja?

Yet in day-to-day events, no one can be all those verbs and nouns all the time. A person who demands that level of interaction may be considered manipulative, controlling, narcissistic, and the intensity may be diagnosed as unhealthy. A person who offers that level of support may be insecure and co-dependent.

Yet those are the IDEALS of true friendship.

How does anyone TEACH those altruistic and complex ideas? How do persons LEARN to listen, learn to encourage, learn to accept events and people “at face value?” The number of assumptions and presumptions is astronomical...just take one or two of these characteristics, break down the skills and tasks inherent in comfort, for example. Then do the multiplication.
Staggering, absolutely staggering.

So I am amazed at those interventionists and educators who strive day after day, year after to year, to teach some social skill to the neurodiverse. Each 'thread' of intervention, from Applied Behavioral Analysis to Cognitive Behavioral Theories to Sensory Integration ad infinitum, strives to improve the QUALITY OF LIFE for the autism spectrum child (and occasionally even the adult).

I was recently in Long Beach, Cali, (that's what everyone “out there” called California) for a retreat/institute with the Freedom Writers Foundation. For the first time in my life I had a one-on-one for much of my stay and it changed my life. Robyn, Sonia and Zac accompanied me pretty much everywhere, along with my trusty Dachshund mix, Shakespeare Aristotle Redboots.

But Robyn, Sonia and Zac didn't just walk beside me, they embraced me and totally accepted me, made me feel like family, or at least how I would like to think family SHOULD feel, and they made a safe a and happy spot for me so I could learn, and meet other people, and participate in the program.

So for the better part of five days I was completely myself and accepted and enjoyed as myself.
That did more for me in five days than 30 years of struggling, developing coping strategies and accommodations and striving to adapt to everyone about me!

So I have been thinking about skills and tasks and the fact now that autism has been proven to be neurological, a physical and permanent condition. And I put that together with quality of life issues and with the fact that blind and deaf persons are no longer seen as retarded and worth putting in an institution and I come up with the idea that as more Aspergians and “high functioning” auties find one another, that perhaps we shall evolve our own CULTURE, our own language and methods for relating to others, and once again I have hope.

My friends Zac gives me lots of hope. He 'translates' words and events for me and he gives me time to process questions so the answers are mine, not hurried. He watches me and notices when I am uncomfortable then takes steps to improve the situation.

And that is my definition of improving the quality of my life and my relationships. I can pay attention. I can hug someone and maybe even be patient.

One of my favorite quotes is from the brilliant artist and scientist Michaelangelo: “I am still learning.”

So if a great mind can say that with inner peace in his old age, then so can I.

Friendship is hard work. Friendships can be very painful. Real friendships are worth the effort.

I am, indeed, still learning.

What do you do when you see an endangered animal eating an endangered plant?

Tony Attwood meets Erin Gruwell: Freedom for Real

December 2, 2007 1 AM

Finding a Voice, Being a Person

Result: Freedom for the Aspie

Freedom happens when you have a voice-with-imagery-and-words (one phrase) which triggers the COURAGE to seek a Relationship, that is, an audience. (Someone sees and hears you.)
If you do not know that the Other exists then there is no impetus to create or be creative.

Without awareness of the Other there is no need or desire to speak.

But further, even if there is a need, a desire, if the Other does not RESPOND—and especially if there is not human response but only savagery of the body, mind, heart and of soul—if there is no Other to listen, to affirm, then creativity, using one's voice, withers and fades away....not a sudden releasing death, but a weary, painful agony of aloneness.

Freedom is the ability to shine, to see the effect of that Light on the Other, and then to receive Light in return.

Freedom is not about SELF, but about SACRIFICE; and yet that very act of giving up
AMAZINGLY *
results in becoming MORE
-More love
-More truth
-More beauty
-More HOPE
-More courage

Freedom means it is okay to fly to a strange (very) city and to meet strangers—who aren't.
Freedom means it is okay to cry because all pain is equal. There is no petty pain. It pain were small then it would not be recognized as pain and we-I wouldn't change.

Freedom means it's okay to Laugh. Giggling is fine, but Real Freedom means Real Laughing, laughing because the Other hears, the Other understands, and together we-you-I are safe.
Freedom means it is okay to be goofy, to be silly, to be weird, to DANCE, because you are SAFE with the Other.

Freedom means having the courage to see....
....the courage to act...
...the courage to fail.

Real freedom means transfoming PAIN, sharing that transformation, and setting the pain and the change free to keep the Transformation Process eternal.

Humans are annoying, yes. I can think how others may think about my friends. I can think how perky and poised Erin can be reacted to by some people as if she were annoying. I can think how pumped up, dynamic and passionate Reneé can be reacted to as if she were annoying. I can think how gentle and self-effacing Fernando, a Knight, could be perceived of as annoying. These are some of my heroes!

In my experience, so many persons have the effrontery to judge others and I want to stop that. I know that most of the people that I have met—and they easily number in the thousands—have chosen to perceive me as an annoyance. I am too intelligent, too perky, too shy, too heavy, too something. This annoyance toward me started as a chain reaction begun by my own parents.

I have never felt accepted. I have never felt worthy (although I believe that God thinks me worthy). I have never, even as a Mother, felt wanted or needed. SO I have never quite belonged.

One of the hardest question on this weekend of retreat, conference, workshop, therapy, discovery, is “Where are you from?”
Not here.
Not Earth.
Not New Hampshire.

I am an alien. My home is the third star in Orion's belt, 2nd planet to the right. Straight on until morning.

As a wee child I looked at the night sky and cried to go HOME.

WHAT AM I DOING IN LONG BEACH? I AM NOT A TEACHER, I AM NOT CERTIFIED OR TRAINED...

Am I here because of a mistake, a presumption—a lie? Did Erin THINK I was a teacher? Then I am here under false pretences. (HA! Are there TRUE pretences?)

I need to be Real, “put my money where my mouth is.” If I am willing to follow The Call then my RESPONDABILITY is to live in HOPE.

I had hope when I went on a retreat 18 months ago. I had hope when I attended an autism support group where I met Cathy, the presentor and now we present together. I had hope when I gave a keynote address to 200 teachers about autism. I had hope that the Spirit led me to Norwood, MA, to the conference hosted by the May Institute where I met Erin, Stephen, Maria and Robyn. And it all leads to
Here
Now.

Where I can struggle with words, images, emotions, and people
-but the Other
-the Others
-are LISTENING

-are RESPONDING
-are LIVING LIFE TOGETHER.

I am in so much physical pain this evening. My toes hurt my feet hurt my knees hurt my back hurts my hands hurt my neck hurts my skull hurts my dandruff hurts (okay—so I don't have dandruff, I just got caught up in the word pattern) my spolit ends hurt—YET I DO NOT HURT.

Freedom is dancing when there is pain. And crying about it and then laughing about it. Freedom is seeing the sparkies, the Light in the Other's eyes and those sparkies in the eyes look just like the Orion constellationand suddenly I am streaming flying to my Star and my Home planet BUT/AND ...IT IS HERE.

Oh yeah, so I sit down to write all this freedom stuff and PBS had on the British Invasion 1964-1974 and I am loving the music because that was my first voice, using the words and melodies of others in order to communicate and to relate which is WHY I know so many songs. I need just the right lyric or sound byte for each moment of life on planet Earth.

Then Lulu comes on and sings “To Sir, With Love” one of my favorite songs BUT the next song is “Wild Thang, you make my heart sing."

And all I could think was “I'M AUTISTIC????” Who put together this show list????

Why am I here? At the Freedom Writers Foundation with teachers from Hawaii, Alaska, The Dakota's, Florida, New Jersey, Nantucket, all over?

Many of you respond to me, to me, telling me that I touched your hearts.

Ah! So that is why a non-Teacher is here...to serve! Whatever it is, whoever I am, hearts amd minds have been touched, loved.

That makes me feel good.

But whoa—That means you have been listening to me, you are hearing what I am sharing, you have an inner response and to top it off you are communicating it BACK to me.

And doing so without lying, being GENUINE, so that means that we are in RELATIONSHIP. Does that mean the joke's on you? On me? Can I really have a relationship?
We ARE in a relationship (and if you leave me I will kill you...not, but just that passionate).

Freedom, remember Freedom? Courage?

All my life I have held on, sometimes with a strangle hold, to hope, or the idea of hope.
Because of who you all are, the Freedom Writer Teachers, you have helped me change more than any intervention, any coping mechanism or accommodation has ever helped. In five short days I learned more aboutbeing a HUMAN than with all the therapists I have known.

Because of your Truth, I don't feel so alien.

I feel like maybe Earth might be a Good Home after all.

Be it ever so humble, there is no place like home.
Thank you for living the genuine, humble, loving life.

Lost: A Sense of the Sacred

A response to Chapter 12 in Asperger's Syndrome

Our bodies are a physical reflection of a spiritual truth which our American—perhaps all Western industrialized un-Civilization—has forgotten.

Life is sacred, and our expression of love at its apex can be a nexus for transformation and healing.

Sadly, intimacy and gender are the focii of crude humor, of a user/manipulator/power mentality, and of a false pride within some helping professions especially since the “anti-establishment movements” of the 1960's wherein talking about the body blatantly somehow leads to—freedom? From past taboos?

If we were truly enlightened then how we evolve into intimate relationships would be spoken of with AWE, with a deep respect for personhood.

What we get is an arrogance that masquerades as freedom. Writers of fiction have been ordered to add “spice” to their books if they wish to sell. More people attend R rated movies on a regular basis than less violent or explicit films. Somehow blithely—or maybe it's determinedly—exposing the heart of a relationship to analysis has made it easier to use and to be used by lovers. The assumption has been that if we talk, talk, talk, show, show, anal-lyze that somehow we become “free” from the taboos of previous generations.

If we are so “free, then why is suicide the highest single cause of death amongst youth? Gender identity, rather than being a stepping stone to adulthood and positive relationships, is a major confusion. Detailed and pragmatic “health” curriculums are presumed to educate. But why are STD's, abortions and pregnancy so common in high school? Behaviors that less than a generation ago were an illness are not only okay, they are encouraged and even preferred behaviors in the media.

That is confusing.

I am not writing this to close off gender discussions and life choices. I believe in genuine freedom. I write this to highlight CULTURE CHANGE that is neither loving or respectful.
The uses of our bodies need to be toward healing and love. The manner of pursuing a relationship cannot solely be about physicality. Intimacy as JOY is far beyond prime time television's crass humor as well as the cold, detailed, “scientific” descriptions inherent in curriculums and textbooks.

Those souls entwined in neurological differences, who have already been labeled, insulted, misunderstood, railroaded and manipulated by (sometimes well-intentioned) interventions, are now targets for psychobabble and “professional pride” for research and “open” discussion. Sometimes, in reading “studies” by psychology's researchers, I think their goals are to “beat” this syndrome and prove how great THEY are. Their stated goals seem to aim toward healing but actually just summarize the pain and/or ignorance of a youth or adult.

When a soul already has difficulty talking and relating, how does teaching them about biology help?

I would like to present another concept, one that's been around since the early Hellenistic (Greek) era.

There is male. There is female. And there is androgynous.

In high school, reading my dictionary as usual, I discovered this word and for the next decade or two it saved my life.

Androgynous, using the botanical definition, is having the male and female aspects within one cluster...balanced. Both sides, no need for invading or being invaded. It is being perfectly balanced, having a nurturing side and a strong side. By developing my strong, outward task-oriented male nature consciously while also attending to my nurturing, creative and passsionate characteristics I found I did not HAVE to have a relationship based on gender. I could GIVE, I didn't NEED. I suspect that our culture could use more giving and less demanding.

The other word is INNOCENCE. Yes, I got teased a lot in and out of school. Yes, unscrupulous persons took advantage of my naiveté. Some still do with crude jokes that I just do not understnd. Nor do I want to understand.

What is wrong with innocence? Why is there this drive toward making everyone the same? Sullied?

When the sacred becomes mundane, trivialized, no wonder people confuse love and lust. So many hearts—so many minds and bodies—have been shattered when the promise of intimacy turns out to be a power trip and self-stimulation by the Other, by the intended beloved's body.

What could be joyful, freeing and healing has become another trap.

The most common songs are hymns or psalms. Love songs, love ballads, are the next most common theme. I haven't seen statistics to further define genre, but it would not surprise me if the great majority of love songs mourn loves lost.

We are physical persons. Some would have us defined by our gender because gender is somehow intrinsic just because it is physical. I think male and female natures go beyond so paltry a definition. Love is sacrificing the self, not stimulating the self. Love is choosing to respond, not being waited upon. Love is unafraid of being seen in the Light.

Be not afraid.

Make love, not war.