Three Lessons from an Autistic Child To Help You Gain Perspective
How well do you know yourself? I think my neuroatypical child has something to teach you
The Event
Pressing hard on his ears, he tucks his chin in and steps back.
Curling into his mother’s arms, the tears start to flow.
“It was an awful experience.” — my child
Trying to take in the spirit of the holidays and attend a local parade, I am reminded that things will always be different for my child.
The honking horns and flashing lights, a sensory explosion.
The energy of all others — the cheers, the joy, the laughter.
The contrasting experience for my child: he tries to bury himself into a tight ball and close off, entirely, to the world around him.
Lesson #1
He asked to attend and wanted to “give it a try.” I lean in when he does, even when the outcome seems obvious. Maybe one day I will be surprised.
This is what I long for.
Showing up and trying new things is how we learn.
My son isn’t afraid to show up, even if it exhausts him and the outcome is uncertain.
This is inspiring.
Every day I am honoured to experience this level of inspiration. That is quite spectacular!
Lesson #2 (& 3)
Experiences like the parade also remind me that I have a unique vantage point of the world. This reality also fosters a particular dynamic between me and my child.
We need to look inwards to prepare for unknown triggers and be available to each other — urgently, just as the sirens rang, my son began to shake and the tears started to flow.
My son is nearly twelve. This is far from a “typical” response at a parade.
In navigating life from this perspective, we must constantly reflect inwards to determine how best to regain control of a situation that can otherwise so quickly transition to feeling helpless.
The only way for us to do so — together. We both need to look within to find strength and identify what is within our control.
It makes us a stronger team.
This is one of the reasons that my child’s neuroatypical differences are such a gift to our relationship and the perspective he offers and the refreshing perspective he has given me.
When all else feels incredibly overwhelming, it is humbling to realize that at any moment by tuning into ourselves and leaning on each other, we can take charge.
As humans, we can empower ourselves.
We are empowered to make a difference.
Gaining Perspective
It’s not an easy situation to understand if you are not a parent with a neuroatypical child — I know because I have two children and one is “typical”; there is a significant difference.
Coincidentally, in the evening on the day of the parade, I watched an episode of The Good Doctor.
If you are not familiar, Dr. Shaun Murphy plays a person with autism.
In this particular episode, he loses a patient. The behaviour he portrays — an impeccable reflection to my world, in a different context, just a few hours earlier.
I wonder if people who watch this show are curious whether or not Dr. Murphy’s character is an accurate reflection of a person with autism — for my family, he is.
The pressing on the ears so hard to drown out any sound, his knuckles turn white.
The body rocking and swaying, and the words on repeat.
“I don’t like this. I don’t like this. This isn’t right. I don’t like this.”
Personal Reflection
Seeing your child in pain is one definition of hell.
Another is the reality that they are living it; not you. That can break a parent’s heart.
My son is learning to cope, as am I.
We need each other to navigate this journey and as any parent might tell you, deeply feeling how much both a parent and child need each other is another remarkable gift.
Through the tears, through the pain, we are in this together.
Through joy, accomplishment and triumph, we are also in this together.
Know Thyself
In applying this to your own life, who do you have a remarkable bond with?
What is the foundation of this relationship to make it run so deep?
Consider also — when you face adversity, of any kind, I challenge you to step back and reflect — find the beauty to behold because I assure you, there is plenty.
The sightlines can be skewed from time-to-time; it’s not easy.
I am a firm believer that there are no shortcuts to any place worth going.
I also invite you to consider what these words mean to you.
Embrace the journey — when you do, you will realize you are on the right path, regardless of the destination.
It may be too loud for my son on most days, which allows us to find an even greater appreciation for silence and stillness. It teaches us how best to find calmness, peace and tranquility.
It allows us to breathe and look inwards.
“Knowing yourself is the beginning of all wisdom.” - Aristotle.
How well do you know yourself?
From the loudness of a parade to the stillness I find myself in right now — sitting by the fireplace with a hot cup of peppermint tea, taking a moment to be in my thoughts and to transcribe these to others, I am in awe.
My child has so much to teach me. And, I think through my voice in the absence of his, my child has something to teach you; do you agree?
The power of reflection is not only inspired by my child, writing through this platform has afforded me the opportunity to connect with others while being vulnerable. With gratitude and appreciation thank you to these writers for helping me feel safe here: Art Bram, Nicole Hilbig, Sara Burdick, Donnette Anglin, Charles Amemiya, Vidya Sury, Collecting Smiles, Yana Bostongirl, Pene Hodge and June Y. Special thanks to a new “connection” Ali who is a queen with metaphors — just check out this piece of hers:
I also invite you to read Art Bram’s reflection on relationships and admitting when you are wrong. He talks about the expression of “simple, not easy” as well and puts this learning into a personal perspective that I hope resonates with others that my pieces might not. Have a read:
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