Owls

I recently saw a cartoon by autistic people depicting themselves as Owls forced to function in the daytime. How the light was bright in large eyes and the hustle and bustle of the day was confusing and scary and so loud to acute hearing. The environment was such that it was impossible to function as they were designed. They could not simply be Owls.
We, as adults, often forget what it was like to be kids. We get so preoccupied with how things are “supposed” to operate that we often go into “fix it” mode, rather than “understand it” mode. Perhaps if we took some of the time we spend worrying about things and applied it to getting in someone else's shoes thinks would “operate” much more smoothly, because our perspective on “supposed to” would change.
We fail to recognize that the lonely, overwhelmed, “small” feeling we dismiss as anxiety is our body reminding us how it was to be a kid- insecure and trying to find where we fit in this crazy world. In the years I have been a parent and those spent working with small children, I have made a conscious effort to remember this perspective. But I have no capacity to fully understand the perspective of my son who lives on the autism spectrum. Though the “small, where do I fit?” feeling is probably universal, no matter our age or wiring. But recognizing how to hear and communicate that feeling with my son is difficult.
My son is a “ranter” and a “raver”. He hates to “cry”. He does not like the sensation of tears coming from his eyes. I think it embarrasses him on some level when he can't make them stop. But He will holler and yell and pretend cry if he falls down or isn't getting his way. It's a learned response that he believes is an appropriate way of communicating “I am sad” or “I am hurt”. He will also speak up when he is trying to control something he does not understand and is trying to make it fit into his world. But Sometimes he simply acts out and he doesn't understand why. And he doesn't act out because he LIKES it, but because He simply does not know what else he's supposed to do.
The other day he came home from school and told me, “ I got in trouble today again Mom. I grabbed [my teacher] and got sent to the office.” I went through the whole, “Do we grab our teacher when we are angry?”, and “Do you like being sent to the office?”. In retrospect, those are incredibly stupid questions. The answers are both “NO” and “NO”. Do I really think he doesn't KNOW that? When I ask “Why did you feel like you had to grab your teacher?” the answer is “I don't know”. I have come to understand that “I don't know” means “I don't know how to answer your question”.
Later, after sitting quietly and reading for a time, he said, “Mom. I don't like getting in trouble.” He tried to look at me, but the tears came. He quickly looked away and rubbed his eyes.
I can't know what it's like to be him and feel how he feels and navigate this world with his challenges. But I totally know how it is to feel completely misunderstood; to not be able to explain what is going on inside me; to look at the place I think I might fit and not like it. I can identify with that. And It Sucks. It's a little bit like an owl, trying to function in the daytime.

Facing the The Winter of our Discontent

This is what you would call a “first world problem”. In light of tragedies and injustices internationally, this really is a silly, insignificant “annoyance” rather than a PROBLEM. But, then again, Is it? In any case, I know that my marriage is strong enough to survive this trying time, but it will require quite a bit of creativity and getting out of our comfort zones. I'm speaking, of coarse, about the NBA Lockout.
I am traditionally NOT a sports fan. My general view on sports as an industry and our country's preoccupation with it is not favorable. But this is not that particular rant. So I'll save my takes on corruption in our higher learning institutions, and how it's illegal to do to animals what we do to fighters and football players....blah blah blah....Like I said, this is not THAT particular rant.
It's not even a rant about the Lockout and who's right or wrong. Which Gazillionares are greedier, the owners or the players or the agents or the lawyers? I think everyone can agree that it's the fans and the individual communities whose economy's are dependent on Basketball Games being played to operate who are the losers. And I find it absolutely insulting and distasteful that each side is using that fact in an attempt to manipulate the other to cave. At this point, as an American, I'm actually surprised the government has not stepped in subsidize these Gazillionares so both sides get their money and the local economy doesn't go in the toilet. OH WAIT! They already used that money to bail out banks and Car companies. Sorry, NBA, you tanked too late! (Don't I keep saying, “It's not THAT rant”?)
No. As is typically the case, my complaint is purely self centered.
When my husband and I met, it was truly corny “Love at First Sight” type stuff. An honest case of the near audible voice of God telling each of us, “That is the person you are going to spend the rest of your life with”. We became attracted to each other in every possible way- physically (I'm mean, we're totally hot. Who wouldn't be?), Spiritually, Intellectually (which had to take A LOT of searching on his part, because I was never the sharpest bulb in the shed). But outside of our Faith, we really only had one thing in common, and that was our love of Music. But we wanted to know and share everything about each other, so that it opened our worlds to so so many new things and ideas. Some things we just learned to “tolerate” but others, we learned to actually enjoy. He accepted Pink Floyd into his catalog, and I, Metallica. I developed a fondness for Hash Brown Casserole, and he, sushi. He discovered an inner liking for Disneyland, and I, the NBA.
I lived in Houston in '93-'94 during the Rockets run. I found myself, much to my surprise really getting into the action of the game. I quickly dismissed it as bandwagonning sensationalism, and didn't pay any attention to Basketball until I hooked up with Tony Green. I found, again to my own amazement, watching the '98 Finals and actually come OUT OF MY SEAT as MJ dominated the game between taking breaks to vomit in the locker room.
Music, sadly, has filtered out of my life. Without a performance outlet for it, I sort have become bitter and really don't even listen to it much anymore. And Tony, who lived guitar every day, now has other priorities.
So, We had Basketball. He, a “Die Hard, Faithful even in the Del Harris years”, Laker Fan. Myself, a “whomever is playing against that Laker's to annoy my husband, except Miami” fan. I came to really enjoy watching certain players play, and others, I liked their off court personalities. I found myself listening to Sports Radio (of all things!) just to learn more about the game and the culture of basketball. I started watching 4th quarters of playoff games, to watching the entire playoffs, to watching The All Star Weekend Festivities, to actually being excited in the fall for Thursday nights when I'd get to see my friends, EJ, Kenny, and Chuck. (Well, Okay. Just really EJ and Chuck.). My husband and I ended up with the closest thing to a “shared hobby” we'll ever get. We had this new thing to talk about, where I could ask questions without feeling like I'm annoying him.
Now, a season without Basketball, and what to do? I really have ZERO interest in Historical Presidential Biographies, and while he DID read the Harry Potter Series, He's draws the line at Twilight (aside from watching the first film for Mocking purposes). I suppose it's a new challenge. Keepin' it fresh. Being Creative and Consciously making as effort rather than relying on the status quo.
But I'm still going to miss Taunting my husband about Mike Brown.