getting connected

I love the idea that children "recovering" from autism is on people's minds again these last few weeks from all of Jenny McCarthy's publicity. Perhaps "uncovering" is a better word, or "discovering" or "emerging", or.... so many ways to describe the relief of seeing more and more connection to our shared world. For months, Max has drawn nothing but numbers on his white board. Numbers that ofter were different people's jail terms for various violations of Max's laws. Mostly "no smoking!" but also "no long sleeves in summer!". In the last few weeks, he let everyone out of jail and concentrated on writing his rules out. But today, he has drawn a picture of himself, one of maybe two or three that I have ever seen, connected to a speaker and an amplifier with a labyrinth of wires.

Enough Hope

Enough hope.... what is that really? I don't think Hope is something like baking soda, requiring a certain quantity to activate the lift. In fact, I sense that Hope is just plain always there to lift us, if we just call out for it or conjure it with our attention. It's funny - Hope does not seem to be very popular these days. I say this because I paint and sell mandalas, and the Hope mandala is just as lovely or even lovelier than the rest, but it doesn't sell much at all compared to ones like Joy, Tranquility, Love, Trust, Prosperity, Good Happens, etc. My theory is that people don't tend to think of Hope without thinking of disappointment.

So you have a child, and there is so much hoping, projecting, expecting, wondering what they will be like. Then you realize you and your child will be working with major neurological challenges his whole life. Neurological injury, actually. Injury caused by toxic substances and energies we as a culture have poured into our environment and straight into our children's bodies because we insist on seeing only the smallest part of the picture.

My Hope for Max is intact: I will see him living in Joy, his unique expression finding its own perfect nitch. My Hope for the world is this: WE WILL WAKE UP! A 3,600% rise in autistic spectrum disorders in the last 15 years is not a glitch in the way things are diagnosed now. It is a canary in the coal mine, and the canary's not looking so good....

You've gotta start somewhere....

To me, many of the best stories start from the clear view of the end, looking back. I've been waiting for some imagined time along this road when I would have enough perspective, enough clarity, enough time and peace of mind, and above all else, enough hope to make this story really good. I'm not there yet. But Max is seven and it is time. Certain very powerful forces of great wisdom and compassion (and Leo-ness) have made this clear to me. Not a whole lot else is clear. I am in the thick of it, and I have a two year old daughter Bridget who very rarely lets up on me for long for projects like this. In fact, she's at the end of her rope already from this brief beginning. But you've got to start somewhere, and I have begun...