Vision of Love

I've been long overdue for getting my nails done. My 8th graders are laughing at my pedicure and calling me "crunchy toes."  Everyone who ever survived their adolescence knows how critical and insistent those little 12 and 13 year olds are. I am blessed to relive my middle school years over and over again throughout the months of September thru June (sarcasm). My kids judge me as much as they judge each other, so to say the least I am at the nail salon getting my nails done so I no longer have to deal with the disdain of my students. 

I pick Jason up from the bus stop and reluctantly ask him if we could go to the nail salon so

I can get my nails done. I'm not really asking him for permission, I'm asking so he can agree to behave in the nail salon. He is a homebody and would much rather go home, but with a little convincing, he says we can go if he can pick the color of nail polish for my toes. He starts signing: yellow, orange, green, blue, and gold. Once we got there, he picked purple. 

We have my pedicure color and I'm sitting Jason on the couch with his IPad. A little girl comes over to him at the couch. She is about 3 or 4 years old. She asked me if he was getting his nails done. I laughed and said no he wasn't. As cute and sweet as this little girl was, I got that zap in my brain and tightening of my heart. Would she want to play with Jason? Will she curiously point out that he doesn't speak? Will she unintentionally make him feel different from her? I think about going over and telling her that Jason is really cool and talks with his hands, but something tells me to wait and just watch. They both begin to watch his IPad, talk about Jake (in Jake and the Neverland Pirates), and play hide and seek. I watch and my heart is softened. I am reminded and witness that little children only see goodness and love. She never asked him about his silent voice or why his fingers spoke for him. She only saw him for who he is and not his limitations. I don't know why or when we lose the vision of love, but I would like to get it back. It's my thoughts and my fears that separate my boy from everyone. My eyes need to change. My heart needs to trust, and my voice needs to be silenced. Just like the eyes of the pretty little girl, I want to see love.

Square Peg

I've been on this journey- a spiritual journey for a few months now. I've been searching for where I fit. The limited belief system that I've grown up

believing in doesn't inspire me as much as it use to and therefore, I've been in search of something more infinite, expanding, and inspiring. I haven't found it yet, but on this journey I've reconnected with a life-long friend and someone whom I respect personally and spiritually and he said something that made sense. He said something along the lines of that he doesn't believe we are supposed to "find it." "It" being religion, spirituality, or whatever one chooses to call it. If we can name it, box it up with a pretty bow, then that's not what we are searching for. As Wayne Dyer said, "if you can name the Tao, then it's not the Tao." So, this journey of mine has lost it's destination and remains just that.. a journey. Like most journeys, one doesn't know what to expect and I am amazed at what I've learned, what I've witnessed, and most of all I am so thrilled with the person who has jumped aboard on this journey with me. 

The inspiration for this piece of writing comes from something I heard from a dialogue between Esther Hicks (Abraham) and Wayne Dyer on their audible "Co-Creating at Its Best." Dyer brings up how in our generation autism is found in 1 out of every 100th child a drastic difference from 1 in every 10,000th child. Esther responds to this by saying,"Just like you [Dyer], they are coming forth to demand their freedom. They are saying that I'm going to be so different that you are not going to pound this square peg into a round hole." I am sure that this opinion can be argued and I am not saying that this is the reason why children are born with special needs, but when I heard this, a few things went through my mind.  My son is the square peg and his spirit is one of proudly being different. Being a parent of a special needs child is very challenging, demanding, and exhausting. However, I can see how my round peg- round hole being creates much of my mental anguish. My resistance to my child being a square peg creates limitations on both him and myself. He is 6 years old and is still wearing pull-ups at night. He can't speak a sentence. He isn't reading a level B book. He doesn't write clearly. He can't run in the field. He can't walk in the mall without tiring. These are all things that the round peg-round hole 6 year olds can do. Expectations  strip away the beauty of the square peg. It doesn't see the sharp straight edges that collide with each other. It doesn't see how the round pegs are curious and amazed at the sharpness of this different shape. I need to stop trying to pound my square peg into a round hole. After all, this is his journey and I choose to believe that his spirit chose to be different because he could.