Box it Up

box

Boxes. When you have Aspergers, you tend to use these a lot, in a physical and metaphorical kind of way. My Paris room holds all sorts of decorative boxes to hold my stuff. They are symbols to me. All my life, I’ve dealt with many elements that neurotypical individuals would likely laugh off. A test to write the next day. A dentist appointment. Missing my dad when he was at work. More recently, the realities of family health and well-being has been on the agenda…. When most deal with these events in their own way, as an Aspie with a very particular brain, it sometimes gets very overwhelming. And so, I often refer to my shelf of boxes, where I put things away for a while, and sometimes, forever.

Why do I have all these boxes you may wonder. Anxiety. It builds up. Makes you tired. Cranky. Moody. Physically steals your power to perform. And it used to be that it would get the best of me [ in fact - it still does - though these days, if I catch it early enough, I rarely get into a full blown attack ]. It makes you long for simpler days. Easier times where you are comfortable and know the outcome. The fear of the unknown is often for Aspies overwhelming. What is happening in the present is often hard enough to absorb – forget thinking about the future. And so you get an anxiety attack and everything falls apart. When you cry, people may think that you are weak. Temporarily, you are. But for me, it’s part of discovering where I am, and where I am going next.

Enter the ‘box’ strategy. It’s a way for me to put things in compartments in my mind. My life has been categorized in different boxes. Family. Friends. Foes. Acquaintances. Professional Life. Current Challenges. You get the picture. As I navigate daily Life, I open up these boxes, work through the items, and then, when I am done, I figuratively put the box back on the shelf – and forget about it – until the next time I open it. Some boxes have been on my shelf for years, gathering dust, almost erased from my existence. Others are new. Like the one that was added nine weeks ago where I store everything about my brother’s current situations. Or the one with my mom memorabilia. Each Life event which has marked me has its specific box. And I have the privilege and honor of keeping those, or disposing of them forever, if I so wish. It has been successful for me all my life, and I intend on using this strategy until the day that it no longer works for me. An Aspie woman needs her strategies – and this one works just great. I probably one day could build myself a great wall of boxes – like the wall of China. I could call it the great wall of Anne – the Aspie.

Today, I am going to get myself a new shiny box. In my mind that is. My Paris room can hold no more new treasures. On this box, I will add a label and on the bottom, I will add a FRAGILE sticker . I will then fill this box with all sorts of items from my current reality. And I will meditate on those. Ask for guidance from the Universe. And when it’s done – I’ll pack it up and save it for another day….. I know that it’ll make me feel better… it always does…

Have a great Thursday !

Face it ….!

Note: perhaps NOT the most coherent text out there – but the essence of my thoughts on this Wednesday morning ….

It’s about putting yourself in a bubble – shielding yourself – protecting yourself really… In a world full of negativity – you must strive everyday to find that bit of positivity or you will , as they say, go down. Misery attracts misery – gossip attracts gossip . Yet positivity does the same. And we have forgotten that. While having a conversation with one of my long time friends last night, I was reminded of how fragile our human condition is.

In the wake of social media, we are forever under scrutiny. People search our statuses, our pictures and want to know more about us. They are curious. Waiting for information. Waiting to use that information. Yet what they get from these sites is totally biased. After ‘following’ somebody for a while, one gets to ‘know’ a person: the positive one – the complaining one – the joking one. Seldom are those people who will expose their total true selves out there: it’s a depiction of how we want people to perceive us – and how we choose to influence their thoughts about us and about the things that we care about… We no longer can go incognito. And that, to me, is quite sad.

I am perhaps one of the biggest users of social media. I blog, I change my status and I interact with many every day. As a person with Aspergers, it satisfies my social need to communicate in a very artificial [ but sometimes ] real way. Few people have gotten to know the true me in my lifetime – and that’s how I like it. As a younger woman, I was often plagued with negativity. Drama. I was trying to find my way home, it seemed. And I can honestly tell you that I finally have. I try to stick to positive influences in my life. I limit my very close circle of family, friends and acquaintances. I maintain positive thoughts and stick to positive literature. I am a stronger, happier woman. And I don’t care who knows it.

So what do I think about this? About that? In the end, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that I know that most times now, I am able to stick to my principles [ whichever they may be ], steer away from most negativity and thus have a pretty good positive Life. No matter what you may think ….

You can read that on my status …. and if you don’t like it – you may sign out – I won’t hold it against you !

Have a great day !

On a Gloomy Tuesday Morning …..

hope1I got up this morning after a very sleepless night — it seems that slumber was not part of the plan in the last few hours …. I was going to take a break from my daily routine – you know – a sort of feel sorry for myself day until the latest headlines from Oklahoma caught my eye …. More people have lost their lives – all innocent people who did not see the storm coming …..

I had a silent prayer and thought for them …. May their families and friends find solace in being together to overcome these incredible tragedies…..

I then changed my plans —- I may be tired – but others have so much more to conquer …

Sometimes, it’s not about perspective – sometimes, it’s about reality ….
Have a great Monday and please be kind to your neighbours ….

20130519-202447.jpg

Oh Well…

rain2

All month long, my husband and I have been longing to spend time at our Lake House… We’ve cleaned, built a new shed and fire pit , organized, reorganized, bought groceries etc… It’s our getaway from home – not far from where we live, but far enough to escape the world of reality which seems to follow us a little too closely sometimes… For the past two nights, we’ve enjoyed beautiful fires in our pit. The company of family. Moments of laughter, of sharing and of feeling blessed – all in sunshine. The forecast had predicted much of the same for today: sunny and 25 degrees Celsius – so I was a little [ ok - a lot ] disappointed when I woke up to rain and to see that this whole sunshine thing had changed…. But alas …. rain in the forecast all day … At first, I admit, I felt cheated. Rain in the forecast? Really? I posted on my Facebook page …. then I had a change of heart. Why not practice what I always preach? Turn my day around ! Rainy days are great !

So, plans have been amended : later morning and early afternoon, a visit to my brother who is still convalescing in the hospital and whose plans cannot be altered ….. Then back at the Lake House with my hubby … the kids will likely stay home and play video games… it’s all good … I’ll likely have a wonderful nap. Nothing like an afternoon slumber while hearing rain fall on your tin roof… I find it is so romantic – and inspiring – my best visions are had while it rains … I may also read a good book or two – I have a few waiting for me on loan from the virtual library. Afterwards – I am thinking of watching some reruns of a series or some good old Food Network episodes…. all while basking in the light of a few candles that I will light in lieu of a fire pit …. A light supper, more of the same and the day will have been perfect….

In the whispers of the rain, my plants will grow…. The Universe will console and counsel me. I will rest and be calmer. Life is good ….

My son said it well this morning as I was complaining about the weather while driving home this morning … “It’s raining Alex ….” He shrugged and simply said: “Oh well …” How appropriate

Oh well is right — have yourself a great holiday Sunday ….

All Grown Up …. ?

Have been thinking a lot lately …..

I guess that in society’s view, I am now all grown up. I am over 40 …. I have been married for almost 21 years [ to the same person may I proudly add ] – I have two children and a full time career. My husband and I own two houses, a Lake house and a business. We write in the local newspaper and blog about life…. In the past few years, I’ve learned to successfully advocate for my children, my mother, my father , and now my brother. I’ve worried. I’ve cried. I’ve had great success and have overcome extreme grief …

Funny ….. Life throws you curve balls and I guess it’s how you play the game that in the end, helps you cope with them ….

Have a great weekend…

Food for Thought

lessons

Thought that I would share this – a thought provoking list which I found on my cousin’s page this morning ….

Have a great Monday ….

Walking Through Dreamland ….

heaven

i had wandered all night through Dreamland -
tired – lost and confused – until
one of my guides found me and took my hand

he was the tall one – with the
long dark hair – silent, still and strong
who always appears when little me has lost
her way – and wonders what has gone wrong

he stopped time – and just waited for
me to calm down – and to listen -
he didn’t talk or move – just pointed at a door
which – i later learnt – had not yet been built

we walked through it and i examined my surroundings
recognizing many of the elements in it
for they were from my Life – but with a twist
and suddenly, I had come home -

i woke up with this idea still fresh in my head
and i smiled, as i remembered what had been said
and so, i’ll just wait and see
if what i dreamt is meant to be ….

Happy Mother’s Day

The Flower Vase

frame

A scribbled drawing. A popsicle stick frame. A flower pot that reads mom. How many treasures adorn YOUR house if you’re a mom – and just how important are those mementos in someone’s Life ?

When I was young, my mother kept everything that we made her. She had boxes and boxes of cards and drawings. It’s funny, because I never really realized that she was a sentimental person. She hid it well – since she was in a position of authority at work – and had to always look like she was in control… In grade two, for Mother’s Day, Mme Prieur [ my favorite teacher of primary school ], decided that we were going to make our moms a little flower vase with paper flowers. We worked for hours on cutting squares of tissue paper and affixing them with glue and water on a little glass bottle. When it was done, it looked like stained glass. I then made three blue paper flowers to put in the vase. It was perfect in my perception at the time, and in my mind’s eye today remains the most beautiful thing that I ever made. I gave the vase to my mom on her special day, and I remember that she had a smile. She put it on a shelf in her curio, and there it stayed for years.

The vase disappeared after many years. I never put much real thought into it. After all, I had been only seven when I made it – I still remembered it – but somehow, it had lost its meaning and importance. It had been a ‘routine’ gift that all kids make for their mothers and so it was.

Many years later, eleven years ago to be precise, I was reminded of the precious gift. We were packing my mom’s things as they were moving into a new condo. She had this red shiny box on her bed – her memory box she called it. She had never shown me the contents. As she opened it – I peered inside. There was a photo of my dad – younger – and most handsome. The first letter that he had written her. The one she said made her fall in love with him. There was a locket from her mother. A few cards that my brother and I had given her. And many other things. And in the way bottom of the box , there was an old dusty bottle. She pulled it out and there it was – my old flower vase. She smiled as she looked at it and then said: most beautiful thing that you ever made – I ‘m never throwing this thing out. She examined it one last time and replaced it carefully in the red box. She then packed it away… I was shocked and touched that something so trivial had touched my mom …. but said nothing. She carefully place the red box in a moving crate and that was the end of it ….

The old memory box is now somewhere in her condo , hidden in a safe place, I’m sure. Before my mom left her condo for her current residence, she hid everything – and could never find anything after that. Alzeihmers is a wicked robber who steals your loved ones from you – and their precious memories. I have never looked for the box but am sure that one day, it will surely pop back up – but for now – it’s meant to stay in its safe hiding place, where my mom’s happy memories remain…. waiting….. alone…. and almost forgotten….a distant life away.

I saw her yesterday and brought her some flowers for Mother’s Day. It’s a few days early, I know. But to go Sunday will destroy her and myself …. it’s a long story and I would rather not share the intimate details. These few minutes we shared were enough to make me shed tears all day…. As I handed her the flowers, she thanked me and for a few moments, her eyes lit up. As they used to do when she got excited. She said: do you remember that vase that you made me in Grade 2 ?? I still have that somewhere in my red box …. We should find it …. It was beautiful …. For a few seconds, I had my full Mom back … and they she drifted back and asked to come home again…. It breaks my heart every time …. I kissed her and left. She was left standing there alone, lost, crying …. I cried all day. I am told that she forgot about that too and played Bingo in the afternoon with her friends….

This morning, I’m still bawling my eyes out as I write my blog. I went into my own memory box and found the special items that my own sons have given me over the years. The letters. The flower pots. The picture frames… I realized how blessed I am to have such love. Such beautiful memories… again – I thought about my little mom ….. and it hit me.

Perhaps I cannot take her out to her home again … but she will always be in my heart … And really, isn’t that what home is all about ….

Now if you’ll excuse me – I’m off to hug my children …… ♥

Words are Not Enough…..

parker

“You will begin to touch heaven, Jonathan, in the moment that you touch perfect speed. And that isn’t flying a thousand miles an hour, or a million, or flying at the speed of light. Because any number is a limit, and perfection doesn’t have limits. Perfect speed, my son, is being there.”
― Richard Bach, Jonathan Livingston Seagull

He’s my Creator –

My first cheerleader and the first person whom I ever loved.

He held me, rocked me through the night and read me my bedtime stories before he tucked me in at night when I was a child. He’s the one who was always there to hold my hand, dry my tears, or bring me to the restaurant.

He’s the one that met the first boyfriends – and who eventually gave me permission to marry Bill – knowing in his soul that he was the best – and the only true man for me.

He was always the most handsome man I knew . Strong. Strong-willed. An artist. A scientist. A mathematician. An astronomer. A writer. A dreamer. A mystic.

The Universe almost took him away from us three times during his Lifetime. Once, when I was ten years old, he spent more than 8 months in a Toronto hospital , battling for his voice and his lungs. He came back to us stronger and moved on.

On the day that I turned 30, he fought for his life force: his heart. Six bypasses. He never once complained or let me see him with his tubes. When he came back, he was still stronger and moved on.

A few years ago, he needed emergency surgery. He had contracted pneumonia – they figure because a peanut had taken the wrong passage and ended up in his lungs. This time, he was older and Life had made him tired. They sliced his whole back open. He suffered the most ever. He was literally a few hours away from Death. But when he came back, he was still
strong – albeit a little weaker and more frail — but he and moved on.

The past few years have not always been easy for this man. He’s had his own health battles and has had to find his inner courage. He’s had to watch as his wife is slowly being stolen by Alzeihmers, and recently, his best friend had a stroke. On the devastating morning that we told him, he openly wept and held his head. And then, after a few minutes, he looked up and moved on.

He has a kind-heart and a gentle soul. He is a planner. A do-er. People in our family have always looked up to him. His passage on Earth has so far touched many other individuals who often come by for his insights and wisdom. A real psychic. A true medium.

I model my existence after his and I am proud – and very blessed – to call myself his daughter.

Today, I wish father a most wonderful day. He is eighty years young . Pa – as Luc and I lovingly refer to him.

Pa, may you feel as much love today as we have throughout our lives. May you feel proud of what you have accomplished so far – and of all the great things that await you.

May you continued to be blessed with the Love and the Enthusiasm that you bring to Life. May you continue to counsel and cheer us on for many more years.

May you always remember that every time you feel proud of us – you are watching the mirror image of what you have yourself done all your life. Nothing more – nothing less.

Thanks for allowing us to fail, for sharing our successes and for dreaming along with us. Thanks for keeping us safe. And warm. And for teaching us the ropes of Life.

It is no wonder that my Angels and Guides sing your praise when they talk about you: you are one of them.

Have a great day Papa ….. xo

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