Here and Now

Two of my favourite slogans are Nike’s ‘Just do it’ and the one seen on many a Land Rover; ‘One life, live it’, although I saw an alternative, reading; ‘One wife, livid’ which made me smile. I appreciate anything that makes me smile but my appreciation of the other slogans pertains to the power of their gentle encouragement and recognition of the here and now as a really important point of focus.

 

Whatever went before, we move on, or not, from the here and now and while it may not be to our liking, it gives us the point from which to measure what it will require to make us closer to something better. We may or may not have, or want help and, either way, it can be difficult to find the motivating factor that could push us to towards achieving our required outcome. It’s in there but it must be found and found in time.

 

It can appear lost and not surprisingly so. We may be locked in aspirations that are no longer for us, missing out on the subtle messages around us pointing to something that may be even better for us – now and here. Continue reading

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Semimental Journey

I’m going down south to see Kate Bush.

She isn’t ill, or anything but given how often she tours I wanted to see her before she looks like Miss Havisham.

Wow. Unbelievable. Know what I mean? Continue reading

Gaelic Bred and Oughtism

I’ve been shutting myself in, this week. I felt bombarded by people wanting to know my opinion so they could decide for me whether or not I needed to have it changed. Hmm, I’ll seek out the information I feel is necessary to help me consider that, thank you – and do so from a source I feel I can trust. Now, there’s a problem. I’d also like to be able to decide when and how I enter any part of a debate, but thank you for the many opportunities I’ve been offered, to give knee-jerk reactions to contentious and inflammatory remarks.

 

Apart from having leaflets thrust into my path, there are collection tins of varying credibility, clipboards from over friendly chuggers and posters shout at me from windows while A-boards catch my feet before catching my eye. Reaching my destination requires some determination. Can I do without that loaf of bread? Yes – No- I’m undecided, tell me. Continue reading

Debatable Independence?

Aroused by the prospect of change.

Hopes, fears, passions rising, it’s getting heated, confusing, loud, bright, fierce, unsettling.  Too many people around me, too close, it’s all too close.  Where can I take refuge in predictability?  Where can I feel safe in the comfort of routine and structure?

Is this what we have to endure until the Scottish Independence Referendumb is concluded?  Well, yes, unless you have an ASD, then it’s just a ‘normal’ day.

Calmeth down.

Food For Thought

With the intensity of the Scottish Independence debate wafting out of the zone of frivolous apathy (to be hijacked by the bossies, of whatever ilk) towards the realisation that the date that was plucked out of thin air in the belief that it would never actually arrive (Nostradamus’ influence, perhaps?) we do now realise that a very serious topic, and all of the consequences thereof, will be decided on, next week.  That will be it.  Then the next blame game will commence.

Scotland the Brave will be in the spotlight, viewed from all over the world.  Has the debate been conducted well?  Will we be viewed as a country whose residents and leaders are worth listening to? Have our leaders led in a style that befits their status?  Is that status seen to be deserved?  Well, has the public been offered facts in an objective and pragmatic manner? I would say not – from my skewed perspective, of course. Continue reading

Faith

According to George Michael, ‘You gotta have faith’ but if it’s misplaced then it’s a recipe for disappointment or worse.  I’ve supported people and causes wholeheartedly and generously only to find myself having been used and my good nature abused.  My own fault, I’d normally think, I’m old enough to know better but it’s taken me this long to learn I have a developmental disability, which seems suitably ironic.   Doing so, however, has given me a whole new perspective in terms of many of my life events. Continue reading

Act your age is just a number

And I’m clear about that,  just as our ‘esteemed’ Prime Minister likes to say, as he looks down on us through the lens of the upturned camera sent to record his reaction to the latest example of human shame.  I think he’s so clear that he is transparent and I have little patience for his posturing, though I would love said camera to pan down to his feet, one day, to see if he stands on a pre-positioned Lazy Susan to enact his customary swivel on the heel before departing magnificently, in a style reminiscent of Dick Emery… Continue reading

Independence

My German barber, Herr Kutz, has shown real interest in the range of developmental disorders within the autistic spectrum, since my diagnosis.  Their level of severity is as variable, too. ‘They are recognisable, though’, he concluded, ‘within definable boundaries unlike the myriad of differences among everyone else outside of the spectrum.’ Wow, he speaks my language.

And so, the conversation moved to how variable is the level of independence shown by individuals within and without the spectrum.  ‘A great deal of it is not just one’s ability to be independent but one’s desire to be independent – then there’s the definition of what counts for independence’ He said.  A moot point here in Scotland, as the Independence Referendum approaches rapidly. Continue reading

Suffer Little Children

I live near a school.  A girl’s school.  Being sensitive to high-pitched tones,  some of the squealing would make me loathe going in and coming out times.  I remembered, though, that it was just the same when I was at school and and that’s just the way it is.  I must have dealt with it better then, or perhaps the simple joy of my escape from drab, stinky boxes filled with the threat of exploding zits was such relief that I became immune, temporarily, to the sound, leaving the local hounds to suffer in silence, until the sudden footfall had passed. Continue reading

Am I patronising you? Or, do you just feeeel like I’m patronising you?

From my newly occupied pigeon-hole of oblivion, I’ve observed myself and those around me, coming to terms with my late diagnosis of Asperger Syndrome – just as the American method of diagnosis ‘does away’ with the term, so we’re all classified as simply autistic.  So, the experts, in full knowledge of the effects of change and the search for an identity in this confusing world we face, have changed it, and the way we relate to ourselves.

It’s hardly surprising there is such widespread fear of change (and not just among those on ‘the spectrum’ – like little echoes of nature in a rainbow) when people like me find themselves under a waterboard of new life-changing information and understanding about everything now, before and yet to come.  Suddenly, I’m learning about all the things I can’t do, when I’ve always heard that there is no such word as can’t, ironically undermining its own declaration by using the word that apparently doesn’t exist. Can I not just be allowed to do things to the best of my ability (the way I always have)?  Can I not just be accepted as being able to do some things better than other things; some really well and some really poorly?  Isn’t that what we all do anyway, regardless of ability, disability or diagnosis? Continue reading