Stop Trying

If everyone could see your thoughts like a bubble floating above your head, would you change the way you think? The words running through your mind when you have nothing but silence at the end of the day are not always chosen though. They appear like scenes in a movie, clips from your life or perhaps a daydream of things yet to happen. Which ones do you grasp and hold on to? If you choose the latter, you might find yourself on a path to motivation. Next thing you know you’re making plans, getting back on that bike and dancing in the kitchen. Or do you let the movie play out, reminding yourself that it doesn’t matter who you are, because no one wants you.

I’ve read horrendous stories of those who have been left as children with nothing but the clothes on their backs and sometimes not even their shoes. And then there are others who you would have no idea walk among us with no one to even call if they should need a shoulder to cry on. When you are taking care of yourself and perhaps a few others, it makes people feel really uncomfortable real quick when that person starts to cry. Sometimes they just offer unsolicited advice or tell you what you already know and that “you got this”. But whatever they are saying, they are saying to comfort themselves, not you.

Trust is a two way street that I pretty much never cross. I know I’m honest. I know I have integrity. I don’t say this to be smug, just that I know who I am. I don’t lie and I don’t feel right trying to be something I’m not whether someone is watching or not. But I realize this also makes people uneasy, mostly because many are not comfortable in themselves. I am so used to being put in uncomfortable situations from the time I was a kid, that it doesn’t bother me to own up to something I messed up or say something that is direct. All the stuff in between really is just like watching an ad for something you really don’t want. Look at me! Look what I can do! It’s just not my thing. I’m not hear to people please or make someone say, wow, she really makes me feel good, let’s keep her in our lives. No I want to be the person that they say, wow, she really will tell you the truth and I know I can trust her. I never have to worry that she is going to be passive aggressive or manipulative. That’s the kind of person I want people to like about me, but no one likes me. So I’m finding that the majority, just prefers being lied to. Like those ads. No really, just buy this and you will be better off! And they buy it, and if that were not true then we wouldn’t have so many places that sell so much stuff.

Then there are those times when you just wish you could hide, like not just from other people, but even yourself. Because in being honest, we are not always polite or thoughtful. And then we realize that it really was a moment of stupidity. Maybe you had one too many, or you let your emotions get to the conversation and didn’t consider all aspects of a situation. But either way, we are going to mess up. I like to just immediately resolve this, but of course this isn’t how life works. Many times it is not until later that I’ve had some time to myself to realize I’ve even said something stupid. And you can’t always go back in time or to that person. I find it’s best to just chalk up to, you tried. And you know you didn’t mean to cause harm, so next time, put on your listening ears. And this is how we become human. We try better next time.

Those thoughts though, even after hours or days or months or years of enjoying the life. Giving back, being motivated or being self absorbed and lazy. Realizing you will never be loved by another outside of your own kin is a depression that shows up. It shows up when I’m smiling ear to ear in a picture. It attends meetings at work or concerts and events. Inserts itself in conversation and then has the audacity to overstay its welcome. I’ve been successful many times and like to think that I have it outplayed when I distract it and move along. But it’s clingy and always comes back. Depression is the most unwelcome guest in your daily life that you never know when it will show up expecting to be entertained. It’s one sided and provides nothing during its visit. And at the end of the day, the only thing people care about is that we “handle it”. So you do. And you move on with it biting at your ankles while you smile and just shake it off.

This is the story of someone who stopped trying.

*** to be continued

Define Perfect

No one, not one thing is perfect. What does the word even mean? My son has asked me from time to time. I can’t say as I really understand how to answer.

And those that think they may know someone that is, typically are the furthest from what I do think perfect might actually be. The word itself gives off a negative connotation. If you think some one or some thing may be perfect, then you are stating everything outside of that is imperfect. Then how do we define imperfect?

It seems as though it is associated with anything that may make others uncomfortable. Out of the ordinary is not necessarily imperfect. It could be a beautiful display of art, something so unique. Rather though, it is those that choose to be their ordinary selves that evoke disgust or rejection from others.

I’ve encountered this more than I would have ever like to since my son was born. While it is to be expected that other kids can be cruel at times, I was not fully prepared to see the cruelty of the school system. My son entered first grade happily. He was no doubt, overly stimulated by the loud students, extroverted teachers and large building. To amend that, I was brought in for observation and viewed a teacher rewarding my son with a light up bouncy ball when he would sit quietly. Oh yes, let’s provide a 7 year old with more stimulation, then punish him for using it during class, in which was the place it was given to him.

From then on, the phone calls and emails from teachers, principals and counselors poured in. Berating is the word that comes to mind. And as a single parent with no one else to take the load, it was border line harassment. I began providing supports for my son, had him diagnosed (Aspergers at the time), therapy, but I did not understand what could be offered by the school. That very moment of his diagnosis, the school met with me advising they would place him in a school that suited his needs better. No special needs coordinator or IEP, just kicked out into a school where kids were put in rooms to be screamed at as though they were in boot camp. Metal detectors lined the entrances. My son was horrified, scared and so was I.

I wrote the district’s superintendent. He agreed, he was angry he was never made aware of my son and his situation and immediately got me in touch with the Special Needs coordinator who taught me all about IEP’s and support classes. We got him out and put him in a better environment, but the damage was done. My son no longer could trust adults, teachers or principals.

Unfortunately, trauma takes time to work through, and as he grew into middle school, he carried that weight. Teachers frequently report that my son “thinks the world is out to get him”. And I frequently remind them of what he has been through. All the while being bullied day in and day out. Beat up, called retard and receiving death threats to the point where sheriffs provide their cell numbers in case I may need them in the future. Yet the school staff continues to ignore it all, putting the blame of my son’s “bad behavior” on him and I. And I continue to remind them that they are not following his IEP. That they will not see changed behavior if they cannot provide a changed environment. Meeting after meeting, it is only when I pull in another advocate and begin to push back that his needs are ”somewhat” met.

To further show you just how uncomfortable my son and I make the perfect people at his school, just the other day I received a visit from a social worker with allegations that I am abusive. My son was scared and immediately stated he would never think this, of course.

The report came in that because my son wears coats, even when it’s warm outside, he must be covering up physical abuse. They stated that he watches violent videos and his art work is disturbing. There is no hiding the fact that my son loves horror. And as long as he is not threatening others or himself, I am supportive of this interest. He tells stories, creates videos and loves psychological situations, including SciFi. He is in middle school and can certainly be awkward at times. He has been wearing coats throughout his years in school because it makes him feel safe and keeps the germs off he says. As soon as he comes home he takes it all off and is the typical shorts and tshirt kinda kid. He is that disgusted by school, that he has certain clothes he won’t even touch once he is home. He is intelligent and extremely observant. He is imperfect. However he is very good at reading others moods. He understands politics and corruption. Loves history and gaming. He is extremely out of the ordinary, yet completely and genuinely himself.

So at the end of the day, I ask those that accuse me of being a bad parent and my son of being a bad kid….are you perfect? I wonder if every time you see someone or something that looks different than you, acts a little odd and might even be a little sarcastic and bold, you judge them? You tell yourself there must be something wrong with his home, his friends, his use of screens because at the end of the day, it couldn’t possibly be my classroom, my teaching, me that is causing this imperfection?

I don’t know much about the personal lives of these educators, but I do know this. They don’t have autism. And the one’s always looking to find things wrong with my son instead of figuring out how to make things right for him (because isn’t that their job, to work with kids and help them learn in their way) don’t have kids that can’t complete a task without zoning out. Do they have kids at home that are so sensitive that it is a daily struggle just to get them to wash their hair or face? Not because their kids, but because it is actually painful? Do they know what it is like to see their kid want to talk about psychology and the study of seals more than wanting to play baseball? Or to understand that their child needs extra time because they are slow processors? That they are not able to answer a question within your time frame? That they need to think and sometimes they over think, obsess and become stuck on one thing. And if they did have these kids at home, would they not want their schools to provide these supports? Supports such as time and patience, peace and quiet, the ability to take time to answer questions and use thought instead of being constantly berated to hurry up. My son’s disgust for school has nothing to do with his education. He is interested. But if you are expected to go to a rave to learn about biology, how would you behave? How much would you be able to absorb and learn? Let’s throw you into a pot of chaos and then tell you to finish your assignments, not be irritable or distracted.

I have always believed that perfection is a disgusting disguise of those who judge others. Anyone not being genuinely who they are with expectation that others act this way as well should be defined as being perfect and held to their impossible standard. My son and I will continue to be imperfect, lively freely with no desire to be influenced by your preconceived ideas of what a single mother and autistic son should be. We are our own and I can assure you that we are more honest and loving towards each other than most families with two parents or siblings. We do it our way and we will no longer apologize for not fitting in your class room.

Shelter

Not a star in the sky tonight. Hazy heat penetrates my skin as I stare into the abyss. The clouds hang like curtains keeping out the light of the moon. Stars are hiding to rest until they are ready for their next appearance.

Much like the sky, we are hanging in the clouds. Moments in life keep us still and hidden to protect us in times of turbulence. Recharging us for the next time we will shine.

Life can’t always be good. It’s brutal and challenging especially to those who choose to walk out in it on their own with desires and dreams unprotected. It’s not the positive thoughts that get us through. It’s knowing when to take cover from the storm and where to go that will get you there. Praying, positive vibes or sucking it up doesn’t save you from the wrath of the hurricane. Knowing where and when to take shelter does.

Remember this the next time you go through your own storm and take shelter from the pain.

A Love Letter to my Future

I never saw you coming, but somehow I knew you were always there. Watching over me, you see through the trees. You don’t ask how I spend my time, but you want to know. So you spend time, with me.

I’m intrigued taking opportunities to learn where you have come from, where you wish to go and with whom to do it all with. We become students in the subject of our lives. Together we create a slow burn with intention and mindfulness in the process.
Afternoon leisure turns into evening retreats leading to morning rituals.

Our lives intertwine as we share habits, friends and family that begin to fill our branches providing the shade we will need when the burn becomes too hot. The branches support us when the wind blows too strong making our roots dig deeper with each nuance.

Together we weather the storms knowing its unpredictable nature will pass. Your confidence is your strength, mine is courage. We grow wise reminding each other the storms are there to bring us closer in their rage as this is where we find truth. And in that truth we learn to be our exact selves. Stripped of outside influences, comparisons or preconceived ideas passed down to us.

This is my Love story.

My Path

The air is dry as I walk through January’s cold complacency. But the feeling I receive from the steps I take skipping down the steep slope feel light. I spot a glistening in the distance and begin to squint from the sun’s luminous ray. It won’t be long before I get to where I am going although I am uncertain of where that is. Excitement tingles through my veins as I approach the water’s edge. Pleasantly surprised I see the grass is greener and I remove the heavy layer that’s become my armor for the season. It feels like summer as I lean into the first tree I come to. I’m alone in the meadow, like a character in a book I have entered another chapter. This is not where I was just an hour ago. Nothing in my presence is cold, dark or straining on my eyes. I don’t need glasses nor a pen to take notes. Where I stand now requires nothing of me, asks nothing of me. I close my eyes so I may only feel the warmth, but soon open them again to catch how it illuminates the flowing creek in front of me.

This is where I go when the world has become stale. When people have become too loud extinguishing my thoughts. It’s nature’s meditation. It needs nothing but what it offers. Living harmoniously feeding from the life it provides and I get to be a part of it. No one can take away the peace I feel when I walk into nature. Here I am at home with no judgement or constant need for my attention.

A walk in nature preserves the soul, keeps us young and reminds us who we are. Human. None of us are exempt from this label. The only separation between me and you is our thoughts. The flesh suit we carry each day may come in unique shapes and sizes, but it remains to be the same. Our touch with nature is our commonality. The closer we are to it, the closer we become to each other. Sharing the same paths as our footprint proves we were there. How many times will we step in them today, tomorrow or next year? When we are here we are whole and we begin to see things for what they are. My mind is clear until I begin steady up the steep slope preparing me for any uphill battles that await. Training me for those challenges in the shelter of my car, the noise of my phone or the walls of my work. Its cycle remains steady providing me with the reassurance I need when my mind isn’t so kind to my heart. A walk in nature is always just a few steps away. Nothing else comes close.

Like the Weather

The beauty of the world doesn’t need your validation. And although it comes and goes with the whisp of the wind or looms over with its threatening sky; we are thankful for it. In every form, we love our world. We know that without it we cannot grow the food or wash away our wounds. We love talking about the weather and we do so in times of heat, drought or snow.

In these times, we may shout at it. Become frustrated with what it is or isn’t gifting us today. There may even be times it takes life from us. But again, we continue to love…our world. As we know it is not the fault of what it brings us. We love it because we are grateful for those glorious days where the sun fills us with joy and the rain feeds our crops.

It decides what it will provide us with today. And we are able to choose what we do with it. We can embrace it in all its magnificent swells, holding on until we finally let go and allow it to sweep us up to the sky where we look down to see what we’ve been missing all these years. The world isn’t always kind to us. It challenges us in ways that make us vulnerable. It’s up to us to embrace that vulnerability and be who we know we are.

We always have a choice. Will you sing in the rain or will you allow it to make you shiver? It doesn’t mind which you choose, it will still be here tomorrow, whether you love it or not.

The Absence that made the Heart Grow Fonder

You can look for it all your life. And there were times you thought you had found it. IT is always there. Sure there may be days, months and even years that pass where you are free to be completely in love with your time, your life….you. They say that’s the healthiest way to find IT, to be sure you have IT first. But even during these times, IT is in the back of your mind, sometimes you may find it as your pillow or in a song. Lots of times it comes as the bottom of a bottle of red.

IT makes you cry, laugh and question your existence. If you don’t have IT is there something wrong with you? I know there have been times I certainly have felt that way. But then I realized I do have IT. I met this tiny person 11 years ago that I helped to grow. I mean IT was just given to me, a gift! How did I deserve this? I have never felt this way before. IT came in the form of my son and IT didn’t take anything at all. IT came the minute I knew he was a part of me. Then he became US and we were intertwined. I took care of US, I spent time with US, I thought about OUR future and he was always on my mind.

How could this be? So easy, there was no doubt this was IT. And when he was in my arms for the first time I knew exactly what IT was and haven’t questioned IT since. IT was of course, LOVE. I’m convinced my son and I are soul mates. We know what each other are feeling more than we do ourselves. We talk about what our past lives were like and what our future lives might be like. We are very serious, funny and crazy. We are never just a little bit of anything, we are always a whole lot of everything. And usually way too much for anyone else.

I can’t imagine life without him so much so that I just don’t ever. He taught me what IT was. IT is unconditional. I know what that means now too! And it dawned on me that until he arrived, I had never had anyone feel IT for me. But now I do. And suddenly my life became more precious. I want to be a better person. He makes me believe that I am capable of doing so. I question anyone or anything that doesn’t have our best interest at heart and take it head on like some kind of woman warrior. The strength he has given me to fight systems that don’t allow him to fit in, to stand up to people that don’t accept us for who we are or cross our boundaries is more than I could have ever known. I spent most of my life playing victim to people that didn’t want the best for me until he came to be.

It’s truly amazing what IT can do for you. It’s a healing power, providing confidence that you may not have without IT. It’s not even something you need to do anything for. When you have IT you just want the best for this person. IT comes naturally and providing comfort, support and empathy are like little rewards for being human.

I hope that everyone has IT. Some way, some how; in a sister, a friend, a lover….a son. IT will save your life. And once you have IT, telling you to hold on to IT is pointless because you will already know that. You will never take IT for granted. Negative feelings will become conversations that needed to happen. IT will open your eyes to new ideas or make you reach inside to find who you really are and ask you what you really want.

Now that I know what IT is I am open to find even more of IT. IT pays itself forward and allows you to find others that are also looking for IT. In all the years of absence, I never realized how much it was making my heart grow fonder.

A Cloud in My Sky

I didn’t want to go outside and share in the beauty of the weather tonight.

I wanted to be exactly where I was. Sitting at the table next to all I have ever loved, crying about all the things I have been holding in.

Feeling the release of emotion was more than the breeze could have offered. Knowing the security of a kind heart was warmer than what the sun could shine.

Just as art can be beautiful, we don’t always wish to visit its museums. Beauty is in the moment and moments are not always beautiful. Sadness can be peaceful and calming such as a moonlit night. Emotions can paint a picture, better than that of a brush. The canvas a backdrop of what you are living today.

Step inside, enjoy the clouds and embrace the boredom. Life is too short to only count the moments that produce rainbows.

The Change Gang

The sound of the train in the morning reminds me that I am here. Its unforgiving whistle permeates through my bedroom walls leaving me vulnerable as I lie awake waiting for the comfort of silence. As the train moves on, so does the sound echoing now in the distance. The faint whistle is now a reminder that this too shall pass.

We are living in a constant state of change. Some of us choose to ignore it, although it is still around us, living in complacency or what I like to call fear. The train may come and go, but each time it passes it reminds us that it’s here giving us a wake up call. Whether we choose to wake up is up to us.

And for those of us that board the train, although we know the destination, we don’t always understand the journey. We take on the unknown head on and grasp it with both hands, bare knuckles to the wheel. It takes bravery to step foot on this ride and go against what we know as comfortable, but if we never board, we will never know. Turnpike

So many of us find happiness in our misery. Comfort in complaining. The risks we take in finding new friends, leaving family for careers, moving out on our own; whatever your ticket may hold may not always find you where you thought you were going. But rest assured if you are moving forward to the sound of the train, you may find comfort in the journey. It’s the change that drives us and if you find yourself adaptable, you will find yourself happy.

If there is a light at the end of the tunnel, then it’s the light you are shining. The light does not shine for us just because we have made it through. There are times you feel as though you have made the journey and the light isn’t there. You will know when you’ve found it, but it may not always shine so bright as expected. This is how you know your journey is not over and you are not where you need to be. Enjoy the ride anyway with it’s bumps and bruises, because remember, we are the one’s that purchased the ticket.

Marriage Advice from a Single Mom

So I was doing what I do best when I’m home for some time (longer than 2 hours) working on several tasks, staying on top of my priorities while remembering several other things I’ve been wanting to do. So after putting my son to bed, while cutting strawberries and cleaning up the remains of dinner, in typical Dana fashion I decided to rummage through some old boxes. Upon opening one I found several concert tickets, beer stickers and old cards from lost loves. But folded up in a crisp white sheet of perfect resume paper I had found a note to myself not quite 10 years into marriage. Before I even laid eyes on the first word I assumed that it would be nothing more than an angry typed rant, but as I read I couldn’t help but to relate to my 30 year old self. This brief paragraph takes my hope for what I thought I was doing right for someone into realizing it’s exactly what we should all be doing for each other. There is no “marriage advice” or “relationship goals” in life. It simply treating others the way you wish to be. It’s unfortunate that many of us treat our families worse than our co-workers or those that serve our lunch or pour our beers. We are a society of taker for granters. But those that are grateful; these are the happy, the content, the romantic after 40 years people. Those are my people, they are our true role models.

2/28/2007

I never think I’m “trying” or “doing my best” when I think of others I love. I believe those are things you say when you are doing something you hate to be doing. Like someone is over top of you, whip in hand while you row the boat. When you are doing something you love, it doesn’t involve trying at all. You don’t try to have a good time when you are in Disney World eating an ice cream cone with people that are happy all around you. You just do it. Because you are happy. Ok so maybe you don’t like Disneyworld, maybe sitting on your front porch with a glass of lemonade is a good time. There is nothing wrong with being happy with that. And when we are doing things for other people, we don’t say it either. Even if you really are just doing your best. When I try to learn of something that my husband likes, I don’t do it because I have to and I certainly don’t do it just to tell him that I’m “trying”. I do it because I’m selfish. I do it because a part of me wants to make a part of him happy. I want to know that a few of the reasons he smiles (very few) is because he is happy when he thinks of something I did for him. Maybe I bought pizzas at the store even after spending all day in the kitchen….cold, dead cardboard pizzas. But he forgets until one day he opens the freezer and is suddenly as happy as the youngest sibling that somehow got the last cookie. And that’s nice to know, that crappy pizza reminds him of me. You can’t constantly be asking someone if they are happy with you and how often. Life would be nothing more than a serious of Cosmo quizzes (do people still take those?). But instead recognize it when they smile while eating their lifeless pizza. Some things are small and some will take time. It’s really important to know the person you feel this way about respects you and wants good things for you too. If they don’t, you are pretty much living with someone that always just feels they are “doing their best”.