Month: June 2018

The Life Autistic: What a Barefoot Irish Sage Taught Me about Change

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Here at Apple, I once worked for a boss who was more myth than man. He was based in Ireland, and he ran a team that stretched the globe.

He was a tour-de-force of culture-building aphorisms, folksy-wisdom, and cogent industry insights. He strode through offices barefoot. He’d visit sites the world over and dance an authentic Irish jig if they hit performance targets. And his countryside abode was rumored to be so prominent that it didn’t have an address – but a name, like Xanadu or something.

For our bi-weekly meetings, I’d drag myself into the office at 6AM my time to catch him midday in GMT. He usually hosted over the phone, whilst driving, unspooling yarns and helping cast vision for a future I needed to help spearhead.

While I remember more of his accent and cadence as he said this, there were two words that resonated the most:

“Change Management.”

Me being me, I liked saying “management” the way he did, with an airy Irish lilt to render it “MAH-nedge-ment.”

Me being me, I liked the sound of change far more than the concept. I’m not good with change, at my core. It’s one of those autistic elements; comfort comes from routine, predictability, not shaking everything up.

But in the coming weeks, as my boss elaborated on the c-word, my worry began to ease, and I got more excited about the idea of change as a whole. Why?

‘Normal’ people can be just as apprehensive about change as autistic people.

The advanced notice surely helped, but there was another powerful notion at work:

I go out of my way to embrace being different. This was the perfect chance to do so.

To stand out in a good way. To embrace the porcupine of change. To stand tall where others would wither. To make change the challenge, because I do like a good challenge.

In my time with my barefoot, jig-dancing, sage of a boss, I feel like I made a step up.

Where an internal difficulty became an inspired directive.

Where change didn’t have to be my antagonist forever.

Where the anxiety could be better channeled into adrenaline.

If resisting change was going to be normal, then I’d be something I’d have no trouble being: abnormal. 

photo credit: Joe.ie

The Life Autistic: What Juggernaut and Autism Have in Common

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Yes, you’re reading that right. I’m comparing people on the autism spectrum to an ominous, imposing Marvel character and Deadpool 2 star: Juggernaut. 

I mean, just look at ol’ Cain Marko here – you can’t help but notice the similarities between people like us and a force like him. Muscular physique, Hulk-like strength, metal headgear — ok, maybe wishful thinking here.

Since it isn’t that cool stuff, let’s check the real comparison:

The Juggernaut is described as physically unstoppable once in motion, does not tire from physical activity, and is able to survive without food, water, or oxygen.

While I wish I could say that autistic people could run without stopping and without tiring, I can personally attest, within a quarter-mile, that is not the case.

So what is it then?

Routines.

Routines are near-unstoppable, difficult to shift, and tough to interrupt while ongoing for autistic people.

Dr. Hume puts it mildly when she writes (emphasis mine):

Whether at home, school, or in the workplace, transitions naturally occur frequently and require individuals to stop an activity, move from one location to another, and begin something new. Individuals with autism spectrum disorders (ASD) may have greater difficulty in shifting attention from one task to another or in changes of routine.

Trust me, this sucks. And I’m a grown-dang man, too.

One of my kids can be whining about something or, well, actually need help. But God help me, if I don’t finish washing dishes first, or make the bed, or fold this last stack of laundry and put it away — FIRST. And those are mundane things!

A mundane routine or task can be the most important thing right now for us, even at the expense and detriment of truly important things.

Once you get Juggernaut going on something mission critical, like pulling weeds, or preparing coffee, the motion feels like it needs a cosmic force to be diverted or interrupted.

But there’s good news.

You don’t need the Hulk or Mjolnir to divert an autistic routine.

If you’ve got kids or people like this, read about transition time strategies for managing micro-changes to tasks, actions, and routines.

Don’t always try stopping Juggernauts in motion.

Motion is good – just understand that it’s a difficult force for us to suppress, and unlike the actual superhuman, it’s something that can be diverted, transitioned, even made positive.