#Autistic joy – it’s a thing. And we should have more of it.

agora theatre wall
Agora Theatre Wall – isn’t it lovely?

This morning, during my morning exercise bike ride, I read a piece by John Elder Robison about My Life With Asperger’s

Sex, Lies, and Autism Research – getting value for our money

How to get tangible benefit from the millions we spend on autism science

The US government is the world’s biggest funder of autism research.  For the past decade I have had the honor of advising various agencies and committees on how that money should be spent.  Sometimes I’ve been pleased at our government’s choices.  Other times I’ve been disappointed.  Every now and then I turn to reflect:  What have we gotten for our investment?

Autistic people and parents agree on this:  The hundreds of millions we’ve spent on autism research every year has provided precious little benefit to families and individuals living with autism today.  Over the past decade the expenditures have run into the billions, yet our quality of life has hardly changed at all.

You can read the full piece here. It’s worth it.

And of course it got me thinking… along similar lines to yesterday’s post, wherein I pondered the irregularity of autistic joy.

Returns on investment. Getting our money’s worth. Having something to show for our investments… What a world it would be, if all the money spent were going to opening up chances for good to flourish, rather than some “war on autism” dedicated to <begin sarcasm> hunting down and eradicating the dread disorder that “steals” perfectly healthy and happy children from their families and tearing apart everything their parents hope for and hold dear </end sarcasm>.

Now that we’re all triggered, let’s take a deep breath and step back from that hijacking of the collective consciousness by ve$ted intere$t$ and pause to actually recognize and laud the truth of Autistic joy.

If there’s one thing that seems to set Autistic people apart from non-autistics, it seems to be the capacity for joy. Honestly, looking at the neurotypical world, all I see is pain. Frustration. Anguish. Predators and prey. And the best that most non-autistics I know can hope for is just a temporary relief from their pain. Drinking. Drugs. Facebook. Yes, they have their friends and family, their careers and reputations. But even those joys seem so fraught with danger and conflict, there doesn’t seem to be much purity there at all. And the times that my non-autistic friends and associates are happiest, are when they’re numbing their pain with a stiff drink or distracting themselves from their pain and fear with some form of entertainment.

Truly, it’s such a dreary world they inhabit. Where’s the joy? Where’s the ecstasy? They don’t seem to have much capacity for it, and they treat my (and other Autistics’) capacity for unbridled joy like it’s a disorder. A condition that needs to be fixed.

How does that work, exactly? I just don’t get it. I would imagine it’s a little like being a really tall person during the 1700s, when people were considerably smaller than they are today.

The thing is, I don’t think non-autistic people are completely devoid of the ability to feel and experience ecstatic joy. I think they have as much capacity as we Autistics. They’re just not allowed to experience it by their milieu. They’re smacked down. Held back. Shamed and blamed and pressured into being certain ways because that’s “normal”. Huh. How ’bout that.

Meanwhile, it just holds them back. It cripples them, not only in their own lives, but also in how they relate to us.

It’s a little like the inexplicable conditioning of women to not really move that much in their lives. I’m noticing this more and more, these days, as I continue to move and be fairly limber and spry and strong, compared to my female peers. I take stairs two at a time. I lift 40-pound water bottles on a semi-regular basis. I rake my own lawn. I shovel refuse into my wheelbarrow and push it to the dump pile down the road. Even though I have issues with chronic pain and scoliosis, I get up and move around with pretty decent mobility.

Meanwhile, my female peers — friends and family — move a lot more slowly than I. Their joints are giving out on them, and they just don’t move as well or as freely as I do. In some cases, I realize it’s because they’ve been focused on being “good girls” for their entire lives, and good girls don’t jump up and run across the room. Good girls don’t take stairs two at a time. Good girls don’t stretch their backs and necks to get them to crack. They might go to yoga. Or take a pilates class. But they don’t really move freely in the course of their everyday lives.

And after decades of being demure, it’s taken a toll. They can’t just hop up and run across the room. They can’t dart out of danger, if something is flying towards them. And they run out of energy pretty quick, pumping themselves up with carbs and sugar and caffeine.

I’m not talking about disabled people who are dealing with physical limitations. I’m talking about healthy, non-disabled people who have actively limited themselves with their choices and behaviors. Because good girls don’t move quickly. Good girls aren’t physical. Good girls don’t take stairs two at a time. That’s not normal. And it’s certainly not free.

I have no idea why some people can’t deal with freedom. Or joy. Or ecstasy. But that’s not really my problem. My job is to make the most of my own freedom, my own joy, my own ecstasy. And to protect and shelter it in the face of all the people who covet it but refuse to allow themselves to experience it.

Autistic joy is a thing. Today, for me, it’s about getting back to my routine, which allows me to do so much more than I could if I had to re-design the schedule for my day, each morning.  I have a lot to get done, and my routine allows me to focus on the new and exciting things that interest me, even while I can consistently complete the basics that form the foundation of my life.

With my routine, I can get myself out of bed, wash my face, brush my teeth, and get myself downstairs with relative ease. With my routine, I can get my daily exercise, catch up on my online reading, have my breakfast, and get some writing done before I start my day-job work. With my routine — which other people might consider mind-numbingly consistent — my mind is freed up to do more interesting (and far more complex) things than figure out how to fix my breakfast. With my routine, I can get a whole lot of things done, that most people wouldn’t think are even remotely possible. And there’s a lot of joy to be had in the doing. Having four(+) projects going at the same time, and seeing them all coming to fruition in their own times and their own ways, is a rare treat that isn’t even on the radar of most people I know.

Autistic Routine — as much as it’s pathologized by the diagnostic establishment — is the very thing that makes it possible for me to function at higher-than-average levels.

And it’s something that brings me joy, which should be more than enough reason to depathologize it.

So, yeah. Rather than getting hung up on all the downsides of Autism (and don’t get me wrong — there are a lot of challenges that can make your life really miserable), maybe we need to focus more on the joy that seems to come part-and-parcel with  Autism.

Autistic Joy is a thing. Let’s have more of that!

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Through the river locks of #autistic joy

Quebec river locks
I’m coming ’round to my desired routines again, getting back to some narrow interests that have drawn me in and held my keen interest for years at a time. I’m finding myself able to think again, after a months-long hiatus of all-consuming DO-DO-DO–GO-GO-GO. I’ve been so busy “upping my output” that I’d lost touch with the simple act of taking in.

I had all but forgotten about some of those vital interests — the books I’d bought to read (devour, really) and ingest and think on, long and deeply, got stashed in my office and I haven’t spent much time there at all for months… the papers I’d downloaded to take in and consider also ended up in piles in my office… the theories and philosophies that have lit up my life so brightly for so many years, faded into the background of my day-to-day rush to Get Things Done…

Yeah, I got busy. And necessarily so. All of it was important. All of it held my interest and taught me useful things.

But as with any all-consuming effort that flames up in a series of inner fireworks, there’s a price to be paid, and that price was the steady flame of joy from what’s held my interest in a steady, rapt embrace.

I think perhaps this is a distinctly autistic feature of mine. I tend to be so completely consumed by what I’m doing at the time, I lose sight of everything else. And then my best-laid plans to do such-and-such a thing in such-and-such a timeframe… well, that all flies out the window like a caged bird that’s realized the keeper left its door unhooked. At the same time, my “interim” interests (intellectual sprints in the midst of my conceptual marathon) tend not to last long. Maybe a few weeks, maybe a few months. And I can lose interest in them rapidly, so that the full roster of Productive Activities I’ve earmarked for doing… well, that just gets lost along the way, too.

So, I end up with a lot of things started, and not a lot finished in the intended timeframe. Ultimately, I do finish things. But it’s years after the original plan. One of my books took nearly 20 years to complete. While others took me maybe 6 months, tops. Other works have been under construction for a couple of years, and they still don’t feel like they’re ready to be done.

I guess I do need to let my imagination “off the lead” and let it run around wildly for a few weeks/months at a time. It re-invigorates me, when I’ve reached a point of overwhelmed ennui, and nothing I’ve been working on makes any logical sense anymore — not because it has no sense, but because I’ve pushed myself to the point of not being able to reason, to think, or to draw anything useful out of what I’m pondering.

It’s cyclical. It needs to be. And yes, it doesn’t conform to the usual timeframes of the neurotypical world. How do those people live that way, anyway? I don’t get it. It seems both forced and dessicated, as though there’s no room for anything human at all. Just a mechanization of our creative impulses.

I can say this (and complain bitterly about it), because I make my living as a Program Manager at one of the planet’s largest high-tech companies. I see (and have to live) this forced, artificial, mechanized way of doing things every moment of my professional life, and I don’t like it. I’d love to toss a wooden shoe in the whole works and grind the teeth off the gears. Stop the whole machine from working that way. But alas, ’tis not in the best interests of my ongoing employment to do that. I like to eat. I like having a roof over my head. I like being able to afford to live my life. So, I keep those gears turning.

It’s a master-class in Everything Not To Do, If You Want To Keep Your Spirit Alive.

Well, so it goes. Railing against the imperfections of the world is all very well and good, but it’s much more productive to counteract it.

And I guess that’s what I do, when I move at my own speed and meander through my personal projects. Like a boat moving between two bodies of water that are at different levels, I need to progress gradually through the “locks”, letting the waters flow in/out and lift (or lower) my proverbial vessel, as I move from one level to the next.

Maybe, just maybe, that gradual way is my own way reclaiming my own autistic identity and reinforcing my own “organic” process (much as I hate that expression). The daily grind really does show me how I do NOT want to conduct my own affairs. And while it does grind me down, and there’s a big part of me that wishes I could make a living doing what I love to do, rather than doing what others will pay me to do, because they’re under the impression that it “needs” to be done… I’m not holding my breath. I’m an inventor and a builder, not a marketer, and I’m not going to waste my time trying to force myself to work in a mode that doesn’t suit me.

So, the day job remains in place. Until I can make a living otherwise.

Well, the day awaits. I have a bunch of things I need to do, and I’ve got a social afternoon ahead of me. I’m looking forward to it. Hangin’ with another Autist. It’s always a pleasure and a relief.

Till Monday rolls around, and it’s back to the same old…

In the meantime, though, I’m good, just going along at my own pace, piecing things together as I go, and keeping my spirit alive and lively.

With joy.

All that joy.

More work… looking forward to winter

leaves in trees
Just hanging there. Taunting me…

It’s November. Nearly halfway over. And the leaves are still hanging on my trees. I need them to fall, so I can rake them up and get on with my life. I don’t mind raking. All my neighbors either use leaf blowers or they drive their riding mowers around their yards, sucking up the leaves into the compartment behind the mower.

I have a leaf blower. But I hate it. It’s loud. I need to get some ear protectors for when I use it, but better yet – never use it at all.

Fall is work time for me. Cleaning up the yard, raking, cleaning out the garage. And of course, finishing up the year at work. I have to be on a conference call in another 30 minutes — 8:00 a.m. on a Saturday is not my favorite time to be working, but we have work that needs to get pushed out to the world, and this is just part of the whole scene.

I also get a break for Thanksgiving week, as well as Christmas week. I get full weeks off, each time, which is pretty amazing. In past years, I had maybe one extra day off before Thanksgiving, and another day off after that. And for Christmas, it was always a challenge trying to juggle work and holiday celebrations. Combined with lots of driving to see relatives, various holiday gatherings with friends and workmates, etc. etc.

Not this year, though. This year, I get a break, which will be most welcome.

And I’m going to make the most of it.

I’m really looking forward to this winter, I have to say. The darkness, the cold… When it gets below freezing, I feel the best. I actually feel much better, the colder it is. If it’s just above freezing, it feels cold to me. I think my internal heating only “kicks on” when it’s bitter cold outside.

Later, after my call is done, I can go outside, maybe do a little more raking (even though all the leaves aren’t down, yet), and run some other errands. I’ve got a list. Of course I have a list.

I also have a handful of other things I need to do. Like shop for food and visit my friendly neighborhood health food store to pick up non-mainstream health supplies. It will be good to get out. I’ve been practically merged with my work laptop for most of my waking hours, for the past 5 days, and this morning will be more of the same.

I could really use a full day off. Heck, I could use two days off, where I don’t have to do anything for anybody else, and I can move at my own pace. But that’s not going to happen for another week, at least. No, wait – it’s going to be longer than that, because Thanksgiving week, I’ll be traveling to visit family several states away. So, it’s more like three weeks, till I catch a break.

Even then, I’m not sure it’s going to be very relaxing. Because these deadlines I’m on right now are leading up to new features and functionality on my employer’s website, and that will keep me on my toes, tracking how it’s going and reporting in to people On High about what’s good, what’s bad, and what needs to change.

What a pain in the a** it all is.

Well, anyway, this is what I get paid the big bucks for. And I’ll just need to find a way to manage this whole thing and spin it properly so the People In Charge continue to have full faith in me. I just need to come up with good systems for reporting, so I don’t have to constantly scramble to keep the People In Charge appraised of what’s what — just let the systems run themselves and report out from there.

Oh, that reminds me… there’s something else I need to do for Monday. I promised someone I’d get them numbers. Guess I should do that.

I’ve digressed.

I have a lot going on. It’s overwhelming, if I think about it. But if I just keep my lists and I take good care of myself (extra rest, not worrying about getting everything perfect all the time), it’s totally do-able.

I just need to do what needs to be done. And that’s something I do really well.

So, that’s something.

Now, if only those leaves would fall … before the snow comes along.

Using all this energy *in* my favor – not against me

traffic jam taxi cabs in new york city
This is pretty much how I’m feeling, these days. Jammed up.

Blocked.

Stopped in traffic, when I should be moving forward, consistently, cleanly, systematically.

If I were left to my own devices, I could totally do that.

But … people.

People and logistics. And politics. It’s all blocking my path. And it’s exhausting. So, I don’t have as much energy to get all creative ‘n’ that and come up with innovative new ideas. The best I can do is slog through. And for this Autistic, that’s about the worst thing anybody can ask me to do.

I’m a sprinter. As well as a marathoner. And I need to sprint periodically, to really stretch myself and get things accomplished. Right now, I’m stuck in the herd with a bunch of non-Autistic folks who have ulterior motives and political agendas.

And it’s next to impossible to get anything done.

How frustrating.

Well, it’s not all bad. Once I get done with my whining and complaining, I can see just how much of an opportunity this is for me. I’ve been wanting to make a significant change in my life for some time, but I’ve held off because I could always tolerate how things were. I’m not talking about being satisfied and fulfilled and doing my best work. I’m talking about just not being too depressed by my situation to move, and being able to maintain at the most basic level to “pass” as someone who’s happy and productive and content where they are in life.

All that acting gets tiring.

So, being in this stupidly impossible situation is giving me motivation to do something about it. And I am. I’ve gone through my projects list and picked a few that I’m going to complete over the next year — and a few that I’m going to focus on through the end of the year. I do well with deadlines, especially when I set them. And I have to say, my methodology and my approaches are really, really good. I generally can’t pull out all the stops and really GO with it, around the people I work with, because they just don’t operate at the same level as I.

That’s not me being arrogant or egotistical. It’s me being honest. I’ve worked in too many high-stakes positions before, with companies that were at the top of their industries, and I’ve been doing this a long time. So, I’m just trained that way. Many, if not most, of the folks I work with are 10-15 years younger than me. They haven’t been through the “meat-grinders” that I have. They haven’t been worn down to nothing, burnished and polished, quite the same way I have. And it shows.

And there’s very little I can say or do that makes any sense to them, because they don’t have that history and that perspective.

So, I just do my own thing in my own way. I inject every bit of professionalism and experience into my own projects, that I miss on a daily basis. Because I’m a coder and a user experience designer and a tester and a sys admin, I can set things up for myself that meet my standards and make sense to me. Every bit of laxness, every bit of excuse-making and risk-aversion I experience at the office, I counteract with my own work on the side. And that’s the one thing that saves me, really. It does my spirit good.

Some people have kids they live for. They’ll go through anything because they love them. I suspect that’s one of the reasons that people I work with are so willing to tolerate all the B.S. that takes place each day — they’re doing it for their kids. Well, I don’t have any kids. All I have is my work, and the fruits thereof. Sacrificing my sanity for the sake of … anything … well, that doesn’t make much sense to me.

So, rather than letting it bother me, I just channel my frustration into other things.

And get on with creating the kind of work and life I want to have.

If the rest of the world can’t accommodate me (and they can’t/won’t), I’ll carve out a space for myself. Everybody else can do what they like.

I need to do what I like, as well.

And that’s that.

Another week goes by…

It’s Tuesday. It feels like Friday. I’m churning towards a Big Deadline at the end of this week, and then another one next week. And then the holidays hit and it’s time to drive down to see two sets of families in two different states, each of them a day’s drive apart.

Oh, joy.

Actually, I’m mostly okay with all of this. I’m just maxed out. Frustrated and over-extended and super-sensory.

Which means I need to be careful… very careful… Because the last thing I want, is for all these deadlines and this frantic work situation to wreck my holiday season. I only get to see my family once, in the next 2 months. We used to drive down for both Thanksgiving and Christmas, but that stopped years ago. We both got too old to run all over creation. And – surprise – it turned out to be pretty awesome to have one of the holidays to ourselves.

Silence. Peace. Our own schedule on our own terms. Glorious.

And this year promises to be even more glorious, because work has an enforced shut-down over the holidays. Between Christmas and New Years, nobody is allowed to work (oh, except for the people who keep the IT systems running and keep the money coming in – they never really get time off). So, not only will I have that time at home on my own schedule, left to my own devices, but I also won’t have to juggle work and “alternate” schedules with all the people who are taking two days off here, three days off there, and puttering around in between.

I’m really looking forward to that. For sure.

It will give me time to catch up on my reading. And my writing. Especially my blogging, since that’s really suffered in the face of all this work. I haven’t been around much at all, between being overworked, and then having to catch up with myself, getting pulled in a million different directions, and also helping my partner with a bunch of stuff she’s got going on. I honestly don’t know where the time goes. But the volume of work, as well as the intensity levels of Every . Single . Day . has all just been ridiculous.

Deadlines. Harumph. Please.

I’m not even sure why I care so deeply about all of it.  I mean, it’s not like The People In Charge really give a damn about me and my health. It’s not like anybody gives a damn, period, about the challenges I face. Over the weekend, I realized — for real — that the only presence in my life that is actually 100% on the same wavelength as me, is my body. I love my friends and family, but they have their own challenges, and my body is the only presence my life that is 100% attuned to me, that can literally read my  mind, and that can — and will — respond to me in ways that are all about me, every single time.

The thing with people — and I do love and care for the folks in my life — is that their lives are circumscribed by their own constellations of dynamics… which have very little to do with me. It’s like we are all steering our proverbial ships by very different stars in the sky. Sometimes we cross paths. Sometimes we head in the same direction. But really, we’re oriented in our own ways that could easily have nothing to do with each other.

I think about this a lot, as I age. We live in a time when everybody’s supposed to be so connected and social, but we’re less connected than ever. Sigh.

Oh, well. It’s time for my second breakfast. My schedule is a little thrown off by the time change, but I’m adjusting. At least I have an “extra” hour in the morning. And I absolutely love the long nights and cold weather. It’s so much better for me than summer, with all its light and heat.

So, that’s something to be grateful for.

Now, back to work. I’ve got a deadline looming.

I know it’s going to be difficult – what can I do about it?

holiday stress full page
So, I’m a little stressed, thinking about the holidays…

I’m a terrible complainer. That is, I tend to do it, but then I realize how terrible I sound (to myself), and I have to stop. Some people have no problem announcing their woes to the world, but for me, “if I name it, I own it”. If I can see I’ve got a problem, then it’s incumbent on me to do something about it.

Not everybody feels the same way, and that’s fine. everybody’s different. I just have a really hard time living with myself, when I’m moaning about every little thing.

And every now and then, I do.

So, this year, I’m keenly aware of the approaching holidays and how they have affected me in the past. I don’t want to have to go through it all again — and again — and again. Past years have been so traumatic, and mainly because I wasn’t aware of my issues, and I didn’t manage them properly.

This year is different. I mean, I knew that I was “different” and that certain things bothered me more than other people.

  • Crowds
  • Loud noises
  • Bright lights
  • Changes in diet
  • Changes in routine
  • Interacting with hyposensitive, sensory-seeking family members
  • Lots of people talking all at once
  • Stressful events like shopping in big-box stores
  • Having to choose just the right thing from a large array of stuff

So, basically, the holidays.

They bother me. And they bother a whole lot of other people on the Autism Spectrum.

So, I know this. It’s not news to me. And being even more keenly aware of it, since my formal assessment, this past July/August, it comes even more front-and-center.

And with it comes my responsibility.

I’m big into responsibility. I’m not sure why it’s so important to me. I seem to be surrounded by people who don’t give it a second thought and can’t be bothered with it (maybe because I’m more than willing to be responsible? probably…) But it’s really been the secret to my success throughout life. I have to own my own experience, and if I am aware of something I can manage, then it’s my job to mange it. Especially if not managing it will make me and everyone around me miserable.

I don’t get a “pass” because I’m Autistic. I don’t get special dispensation and license to be an obnoxious asshole because I have difficulties figuring out social interactions and other people’s needs and responses. Since I know I have those challenges, it’s my responsibility to manage my situation so that I’m not an obnoxious asshole.

If I do otherwise, that makes me a sociopath. I’m not a sociopath. I’m not more important than everyone around me, and my personal expression isn’t a higher priority than the well-being of the whole. I’m a part of something larger than myself, and it’s on me to hold up my end of the bargain.

Because I can. Because I’m Autistic. I’m whip-smart in some ways and clueless in others, and that means I have to apply my whip-smarts where required, to keep from being a total effing liability to everyone around me.

Life is hard for everybody. We all have our challenges. Prioritizing my happiness over others’ well-being doesn’t help. At all.

So, that’s the deal with me. I have awareness about my situation, and I have tools to deal with it all. At the very, very least, I have the ability to write down WTF is up with me and sort through it. I have a pretty good sense of where I want to go in life and what outcomes I want from different situations, and if it’s not working out, then I’ll use my super Spidey-sense to ascertain what can be done… and how to do it. And I can certainly follow up afterwards to see what worked, what didn’t, and so forth.

So, enough advance drama. Anxiety doesn’t help me one bit. If anything, it makes it harder for me to function. All across the board. I need to keep focused on what is real, what is in front of me, what is genuinely problematic.

Life is challenging enough, dealing with real situations… why make it even worse by coming up with something new and novel to hassle over… when it might not even happen?

Okay, enough thinking. Time to get on with my day and make the most of my day off. And get prepping for what’s to come.

It’s that time of the year again(!)

Run away! Run away!
Run away! Run away!

Ah, the holidays… I’ve been blissfully ignoring their impending appearance. But guess what? It’s nearly November. And that means, I have about a month to prepare for Thanksgiving. And then Christmas. And then the New Year.

But suddenly, I am keenly aware of the challenges before me.

Run away! Run away!!!!

Last year, my partner and I planned to go see our families at Thanksgiving.

Then the election happened. And all hell broke loose in the family. Of course, it was a very demure, well-behaved hell, but it was hell, nonetheless. The winners gloated and cried “Huzzah! The world is ours for the taking!” The losers went into existential panic. My partner got really sick with a respiratory infection. And we stayed home. Didn’t see anyone. Of course, we had some illnesses and a death and some happier rites of passage later on in the year, so we did get to see everyone, after all. Just not last Thanksgiving.

We’re going to give it another shot this year.

Yes, indeedy-do.

Run away! Run away!!!!

I love my family. I really do. But christalmighty, they are a lot of work. And just thinking about doing the whole trip down to two different states, each of them a day’s drive from the the other, and dealing with all the sides of the family… it’s just a lot.

And that’s not even all of what’s to come, this holiday season.

There’s the shopping. The holiday foods that wreak havoc on my system. The parties. The peopling. The lights — oh, the lights — and all that music. Ugh. All the promotions and sales and BUY-BUY-BUY!!! pressure that’s non-stop, starting, oh, about next week when Halloween is over.

And I think about the Auptima Press Holiday Survival Stress Gauge – the tool I built last year to help folks like me deal with holiday stress. You can fill out the different areas and see where things are dicey for you. And then you can plan your strategies for dealing with it all.

I’m going to use that tool this year, for help and support. I’m sorta kinda on my own, here, and I need whatever help I can get. My partner hasn’t been doing very well, and I’m becoming more and more of a caretaker for her. It’s no fun, watching the love of your life, wither in front of you. It’s no fun at all. So, having an extra tool on hand that gets me out of my head (so to speak) and lets me get some emotional distance from the situation is helpful.

Unfortunately, I can’t run away from the holidays, this year. Much as I’d like to, I just can’t. I’ve got to face it all head-on, and just get on with it. Knowing what I know about myself, it’s actually feeling a bit more manageable this year, than in other years, and pro-actively managing my Autism is a big part of that.

Speaking of being pro-active, I think I’ll get some sleep.

I’ll need it.

Into the weekend

man walking on pathI’m working from home today. My first conference call is in 10 minutes, so I just “dash off” a quick post to get myself in the mood for the day.

I got a lot done, yesterday, actually. Finished three really daunting tasks, some of which have major political implications and may spark some in-fighting (which I hate). I just took care of it. Because it had to get done, and I was on deadline.

I’ll let the captains of industry duke it out. I did my part, sending out the emails and notifying people of stuff. And I’ll do some more today.

The weekend is looking promising. It’s not going to be easy, but it will go. Some good things. Some sad things. And errands. Always the errands.

An old friend of mine lost his wife to illness a few weeks ago, so there’s a memorial service tomorrow night, which I’m attending.

I took care of the biggest chores last weekend, so I won’t need to work on them this weekend. I will have time to write and read and relax and make some progress on some of my side projects.

I’ve found some good podcasts, and I can listen to them.

And rest. Nap. Catch up on my sleep. I’m a little behind.

But it’ll go. It will all go — who knows if it’ll happen according to plan, but it’ll go.

“Don’t wish things were easier. Wish you were better.”

rusty chain bolted to a rockThe point of my life right now is not that things are awful, or that they should change.

The point is that they are what they are, and I can choose to do with them whatever I want to do with it all.

Life is challenging. No kidding.

But it would be a whole lot more challenging, if I had no tools to deal with it, or if I didn’t use it for something else.

People tell me all the time to do less. Take care of myself first. Make sure I’m not over-extending myself.

That’s not going to make a difference in the world. That’s not going to make a difference in my life. And it’s certainly not going to make me stronger.

“Don’t wish things were easier. Wish you were better.”

That’s my mantra, these days.

Complaining solves nothing. Absolutely nothing. It might make me feel a little better in the short term, but long-term, it undermines me and paints the wrong picture.

I’m autistic. Everything is more difficult for me.

So what else is new? It’s been this way my entire life.

But the seeds of the solution are embedded in the problem, and my job is to dig deeper and find what else is there to move me past this.

If things aren’t working out the way they are, it’s up to me to find a different way. Waiting around for someone else to tend to my needs (heck, to even notice that I have needs) is a losing proposition. I don’t have that kind of time. I have things to do, things to learn.

I can do whatever I want to do with this really difficult time.

Whatever I want.

And I’d rather do something constructive. So, maybe I vent a little bit. But ultimately, it’s so important to actually make use of the lessons that have come embedded in this experience.

That’s worth the world to me.

Dropping back – then stepping forward

road with yellow stripes and trees with snow along the sides
It’s been a while since I blogged here. There’s a good chance people have forgotten about me, or they figure I’ve moved on to other things.

Actually, I have been doing other things for the past few weeks. Good things. Challenging things. Draining things. Restoring things. I’ve been writing a lot, researching a lot, thinking a lot, which means I have to cut down on the amount of input from the outside world. That means less blogging, less getting on Twitter, because there is so-so much that is distracting (and distressing), and I can’t afford to be pulled in all those different directions.

I think something may be “up” with my parents. I haven’t heard from them in a number of weeks. My mother’s cards come on a regular basis, but my dad has stopped calling me every Saturday. That’s a change. I need to check in with them. He hasn’t been in good health, for the past year or so, and despite surgery that looked wildly successful, he’s still got additional issues — including diabetes, which will do a number on your brain function, if you don’t control your sugar.

I kind of dread it, actually. But I should call. I’ll find some time. I’ll make the time. It’s the right thing to do.

I’m not sure why, but the last couple of weeks have been pretty intense. Well, there was the big event a couple weeks ago, that had me leaving the state and “peopleing” with strangers and finding my way around an unfamiliar college campus (while I was nervous that my car would get ticketed or towed because I parked in the wrong spot without knowing it).

There was the doctor visit with my partner, who’s extremely anxious around doctors, and the new meds prescribed to her, which I needed to research (I found what I needed to avert some likely serious side effects).

And then there’s been the whole work thing, with the Big Project I’m on being generally doomed, from the top down, as managers battle for territory, and the underlings get the brunt of their poor thought process. If we were left to our own devices and didn’t get dragged into their territorial disputes, we’d have the whole thing sorted, by now.

horse racing jockeysBut no. They have to jockey for position. Racing for the front and pushing each other against the rail. It’s tiresome. I feel like a horse that’s been ridden hard and put up wet.

We all do. And I wonder how long it will take, till we just throw the “riders” who are whipping us to go faster.

Maybe never. People need their jobs. I’m tired of this. I’m tired of the whole thing. It’s futile. It’s pointless. And I’m traveling down to HQ in a couple of weeks to continue the pointlessness. I hate business travel. It throws me off. It steals precious time and energy away from me, and it puts me in the middle of throngs of strangers who will trample me, if given a choice. Heck, they do it by default.

Well… what-ever.  I’ll just make the best of it.

Actually, I’m doing better than making the best of it. I’ve given up caring. I don’t give a damn, one way or the other, how things turn out. Oh, sure, I want the thing to work perfectly, but it’s literally impossible for that to happen, so I’m encasing myself in a protective shell of divine indifference and just getting on with my life, regardless of what happens around me.

Seriously, I’m beyond caring. I’ll do my part. I’ll pitch in and participate. I’ll fulfill my duties and my role to the fullest extent possible. But I’m not attached to the outcome, one way or the other. I didn’t ask for this project to happen. I got shoved into it by default, basically forced to turn a sow’s ear into a silk purse, and I’m expected to make it all work to everyone else’s specifications, even though I advised against it from the start, “raised red flags”, documented the risks, and so forth. I did my part. Nobody listened. At least, nobody at the top.

Maybe this works out. Maybe it doesn’t. What. ever.

I frankly have no personal interest in the whole thing. I’m not invested in the outcome. I’m oblivious to whether or not things are to others’ liking. All I care about is if I’ve done my best under the circumstances. I’m just “doing my thing” to the best of my ability, playing my part as is required, and letting go of any outcomes. It’s out of my hands.

So the project is doomed? So what? Who cares? Certainly not I.

And it’s wonderful.

So, yeah, I’ve dropped back a bit from life… Pulled back into my own little autistic experience… To work on some projects I’ve got going, and finally make some progress. I’m quite pleased with one of them. It has real potential. And there are several others that look promising, as well. Sweet. And these are all things I can do, myself, while I go through the motions of my everyday day-job, making a living, collecting a paycheck, getting what I can out of the situation.

silk purseHere, have a silk purse.

I have extra, from all the proverbial “sow’s ears” I have lying around.