"Okay, it is time to play Sack Race!", the Sped teacher enthuses. Four boys then form two lines and prepare themselves. "Ready, get set, go!" One boy then slips both legs into the sack and smiles the most heavenly smile, eyes crinkling at the corners. He covers his mouth with his hand as he laughs and starts jumping to the goal post, not really caring at all that it was a race. He just seemed to be so happy about the entire game. The boy's mother watched this whole scenario from a corner room. And as she saw her son's face full of rapture and joy and laughing at himself because the sack slowly slipped from his legs so that he had to put it on again and was way behind the other team, all her fears and anxiety disappeared into thin air. "My son certainly knows that there is no shame in not getting through the race on the first try." With the help of the teachers, he just readjusted the sack and continued jumping and laughing all the way to the starting line.
Of course, by now, you must know the little boy was my Garret. And of course I was the one watching from the corner room. The story of my life is hardly conventional and cliche. The challenges I face may be different or more difficult than most people but while this is true, there is one common ground that allows me to be one with the rest of the human race. And this is the decision to rise up to the situation as it arises. To step up to the plate when it matters most. To fall 7 times but to rise 8 times and even 10 times more. There is no shame in failing. The shame is when I refuse to stand back up, look at what I've tripped over and resolve to learn from it and do better next time. And as I've said this many times before-- to do everything and anything that goes beyond any human capabilities. Watching my son two days ago practicing his sack race game truly gave me a sense of overpowering calm and clarity about how I should start looking at my life. How I should start living my life and not just talking about life lessons and such.
Garret was just so happy that it was play time. He didn't care that he had to win. He just had to complete the course. He happily put his both legs in the sack and jumped, jumped and jumped.
I should view my own journey like what my little Prince just did. Seeing it as one to be enjoyed and relished. To do what one must do-- to work, to laugh, to play, to love -- in the real sense of these words, get both my legs working and jump with joy at the innate reality that I am given another life to live every single day.
When the sack was slipping off his legs and he had to stop, he just bent down, with his teacher's help and wore the sack again and was off again jumping back to the starting line.There was no crying or signs of frustration on his part. He just fixed his sack and went on, still smiling and laughing alternately.
From now on, I must bear in mind how the most important thing is to pick oneself up and move on. Sure, for the emotionally over developed human beings with cognition and all, a little time for wallowing is allowed. I am sure we weren't born with a hypothalamus without a purpose. It is what makes us a whole, complete human being. Our emotions give us a touch of humanness that is elemental to survival. But after the weeping part must come the resolve to go on, to move on to the next step. To move forward towards the light at the end of the tunnel. And it does not matter how long the tunnel is. The objective is to keep going and not get stuck. Life goes on. So should I. And if I should need help, all I need is to swallow my pride and ask for help. There are people just waiting in the sidelines to help me. I just need to ask. Even if I have to face my monsters alone, I can gather strength from friends and family to face it head-on. And as Garret was laughing all the while, I remember a line from a t.v. series, "If you take life too seriously, it ceases to be funny." Hopefully in the future, I can look back at the mistakes, wrong decisions I have made and laugh at it. Laugh at myself. And see the absurdity and wisdom of all the hardships I am encountering right now no longer with a heavy heart. And perhaps in the future, should another wave of challenges come, I can learn AND decide to laugh at it.
When Garret returned to the starting line, he was instructed to sit down as his turn was finished. He happily went to his seat and watched his teammates perform the race. He did not care at all that he caused his team to finish last. Nor did his classmates. He did not beat himself up over it. He was just happy he was able to play the game.
Autism may have given Garret a blessing to know only the very essential things in life: and one is the ability to enjoy the simplicity of every moment, every game, every endeavor and not to place unnecessary emotions that tarnish the very purpose of it. Most people--we in the normal spectrum do tend to complicate things. We can't help it though. With our brain wiring, our mental process and emotional baggage, with our expectations, it becomes automatic. So maybe as the alarm goes off with the rise of incidence in Autism maybe the Universe, life, God is telling us or sending us back to the basics. Simplify. Enjoy. If you fail, try again. If you fall, stand up. If you need to cry, cry. Then wipe those heartaches away and heal. Maybe we have been to hard headed for the longest time. Maybe I have been too hard headed for the longest time that the Universe had no other choice but to send me the most concrete message of all in the person of my little prince. And the message is telling me what it takes to truly live the life I was endowed with and to deeply love with a love that knows no measure, sees no expectation, sees all things, accepts all things and to be grateful for everything.
Garret's life is different from the rest of the world. His brain is wired differently. I've always pondered on whether he can make the hard choices when he grows up, the way I've made choices. Or has Autism determined his life? Maybe, maybe not. Garret may have truly enjoyed his game not because he chose to but because it is automatic for him because of his Autism. Everything remains to be seen day by day. And day by single day, all that matters is that I am learning through my son. I may have no clear answers to this question yet. But one thing is very clear to me. I've made choices. I am making choices. For now, it is my role to make decisions for myself, for my boys, for my marriage. Because I am able to. I am wired to. The choices I have made and will make define who I am. And all these choices must be based on love and an overwhelming appreciation of life, no matter what.
I choose to work.
I choose to play and enjoy the game.
I choose to journey even to the point of no return and enjoy the ride.
I choose to get back up 10 times more after I have fallen down 7 times.
I choose to heal.
I choose to love.
I choose to forgive. Others. Situations. Myself.
I choose to be grateful.
I choose to truly live.
So, Autism, thank you for making me realize how blessed I am to have choices, that it is in my own hands to create my fate, to reach my light at the end of the tunnel. When the time comes, if I am given the ultimate gift for Garret to understand my words, I say to you, My Little Prince, "Thank you so much for showing me what life truly is. Again and again, how loved I am by the heavens to have been given the greatest gift which is you..."
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