space between
April 21, 2016 § 4 Comments
At the beginning of this last semester of the school year, I bridged a complicated discussion with my son. We had just met with his advisor and despite my intentions, I was suddenly letting my fears for his future drive the language I used.
Less than inspiring, I was passively critical. I judged his effort and dictated what my expectations looked like. Then, my son, after patiently allowing me to rant, asked: What if that’s not what my trying looks like?
That’s it.
There was no impassioned speech or angry barb, no defensive posturing or rebellion. Just a question that created space between us to really listen. I wrote his question down and have returned to it often.
This is what I’ve come to realize. There is a space between the stories we tell ourselves and our truths, the uncomfortable gap in assumptions and perceptions that can muddle our peace of mind. Fears that whisper to our insecurities and feed doubt, undermining our relationships with ourselves and others.
I don’t want to clutter these last years of high school living for an uncertain future with a manic mindset that fosters panic over presence. I think there’s a tendency towards fear of missing out that discounts simpler certainties.
Whatever the future holds for my son, right now he’s sharing his fears and hopes, connected to his family and invested in others’ well-being. He’s a good guy with a great sense of humor and an easy gratitude for less.
Equally important, my daughter is listening and framing her understanding of how we talk about what trying looks like.
In our home, I want there to always be space between us to question honestly and talk openly.
scribblechic 
Out of the mouths of babes Marie. A lesson like no other.
Mind you, it IS very hard not to put OUR expectations on them. We want them to be the best, and happy in that….but as he said…what if that’s not what my trying looks like?
I think I’ll hang that piece of very profound wisdom on my wall 🙂
It’s a funny thing to think that for all the ways others assume my son struggles with social skills given his Autism Spectrum diagnosis, more often I find that he has a greater consciousness for facilitating genuine understanding. Maybe it’s the years of social practice or a more innocent perspective; either way, his singular question is universally applicable and lends itself to nurturing meaningful communication.
He is probably very lucky in his Autism to think from a much higher truth being much more open to those thoughts inside, we just get in our own way 🙂
I have also heard quite profound comments from those with Autism and it has made me rethink my ‘so called’ ideas from youth of what they are dealing with.
They can appear to act like children, but aren’t they the ones that really come from the heart, instead of our walls of fear and doing some of the most horrendous things.
I think his journey will also be quite profound, for him and others, as I can hear it in his mom 🙂
Is that not the wisdom of love?
There have been many occasions, Mark, when I consider my son’s diagnosis a blessing. A complicated, often challenging collection of gifts.