I’m good at maybe one or two things. Three, tops.
You’d think it would make sense to just let me do those things. They’re not arson, larceny, or crimes, either.
I remember talking with my friend Josh, and they’d gotten Michael, their son, into track. Michael’s autistic, and he’s an energetic boy, only more so. He loves to run.
This totally makes sense.
He loves running. Getting him into track, which involves running, is logical. This makes sense.
Permitting a passion with a purpose is key!
Sadly, I have one very fixating obsession: vacuuming.
My house has dogs, and it has carpet. Do the math.
When it is time to vacuum, it is time to vacuum. I’m more rote and robotic than a Roomba would be here. I bought my expensive vacuum as a luxury item, and I enjoy vaporizing the dog hair and making lines in my carpet.
You would think this would go unopposed!
“Do you have to vacuum RIGHT THIS SECOND?”
“Can’t this wait until we’ve done XYZ?”
“Dad, I’m trying to watch Netflix!”
The Life Autistic is driven by extraordinary propulsion for doing ordinary things.
It’s almost an unstoppable force.
Which is why — if it’s something productive — just let it roll.
It’s like interrupting a golf swing to stop.
It’s like hijacking our logic (good task = do) to bring to a halt.
When my mind and body converge to say, it’s TIME TO VACUUM – y’all, this house is getting vacuumed.
It sucks, I know.
But if it’s good, let it go, k?