Interview for April is Asutism Acceptance Month

Here is a link while it's still April is Autism Acceptance Month to an interview I just did about my book, autism, and spirituality. I apologize for the scratchy sound, my fault, but people have actually listened to it!

https://anchor.fm/divine-inspirations

Blurring Boundaries

I need to be around blurred edges
where the ocean blends into the sky
where the leaves dance with the sunlight
where the air and the flowers mingle. 
Bodies that are lumpy in places
soft furry things
minds open to new possibilities
open to transformation. 
Then it becomes easier
to slip from my confining body and ego
into the infinite wonder and timelessness
of here and now. 

Ukulele Lady

Sometimes it is fun to dress up.  
I love my new plastic ukulele.
It's a Waterman made by Kala and really plays and stays in tune. It won't rust or warp and is small enough to take along. 

Autism and Zen: Interview with author Anlor Davin

While researching autism and zen practice I found a link to an amazing book and woman and autistic zen circle and practice.

The book is Being Seen, and the woman Anlor Davin, and her story is worth reading and I recommend the book as a way of understanding more about autism and how a meditation practice can help with surviving in a noisy and chaotic world.

RAVEN: You said you do 2 hrs sitting a day. Is that all at once or separated, night, morning, when stressed?

ANLOR: First of all, nobody is behind you watching and counting how long you sit, it is totally your own business. I personally sit 2 hours first thing each morning as this is the time I feel best and less stressed. Please always remember that five minutes sitting by a beginner is easily the equal of any two hours by an experienced sitter. Without this sitting practice I could not function as well the rest of the day. In fact, the more I am stressed and tired after having gone outside during the day, the more difficult I find it to sit! I do most of my sitting first thing in the mornings, before I have eaten anything and done distracting things -like answering emails! Often I break that time down into two periods. The first period lasts usually between sixty and ninety minutes, depending on what needs to be done (for example prepare breakfast, do some exercise and yoga, even answer some Skype calls from my French family as it is the best times for us to talk due to the time zones). Sometimes I sit some more in the evenings, but I find that then I am unable to sit for as long as I do in the morning.

RAVEN: I have never sat Soto Zen. Could you describe the meditation techniques.

ANLOR: The meditation techniques that I, a California resident at the beginning of 2000, have observed or been told about is that no specific focus point is given while one sits zazen. Only the breath, always returning to awareness of the breath.

I –and we- sit zazen while turned toward a non-cluttered wall. The round black cushion one sits on(called a zafu) is black and so is the flat larger mat (zabuton) on which the round cushion is. Chairs are accepted but they are rare in a zen meditation hall. Zen meditation (zazen) is done in silence, very rarely will the leader say anything during zazen. The color black is most often seen in the priest robes. Whether in a chair or on the zafu cross-legged, the spine is erect, the hands are in the lap, the eyes are downcast.

After zazen there is either another period of zazen or other rituals, for example slow walking mediation (kinhin) in shorter periods, dharma talks, and services. And let’s not forget the time to eat, oryoki style, which is also performed in a silent “dance” whose goal, as always, is awareness.

RAVEN: Do you feel sitting Zen as a spiritual practice is different from purely secular meditation?

ANLOR: Yes I do. Zen is made of individuals sitting, both alone and together. The group is called a sangha. I find it of utmost importance to have a sangha and be with others at times. It nourishes and supports my practice at home and without that I would not have been able to sustain my practice, or I might have started to find ways to be distracted (in my experience, guided meditation can do that) and slumped in my posture. When I first started my zen practice 17 years ago there were monks who, by their living example, gave me faith that this practice had a positive effect; It is a zen friend who helped me find proper medical diagnosis of my autism, it is yet another two friends who advised me to start writing a book, and on and on.

RAVEN: Your Autsit retreats in Lake Tahoe sound wonderful. I even liked the social awareness learning that went on. And I do love wilderness. Could you add some comments about them?

ANLOR: On the downside though I have to say that as the organizers, my partner and I run into challenges. For example, we want to keep it affordable, but between the lodgings and the food costs it is not so easy to juggle. We often end up “paying for” it ourselves in one way or another, and we are not rich at all. Also, there is room for only seven people, it is a cabin after all, so as more and more want to participate the limited space becomes another problem.

In order to fill the need for more people and in a more convenient setting I have started to facilitate a monthly meditation group, held at Dominican University in San Rafael, California, for people on the autism and neurodiverse spectrum. See more information about it on my website http://autismtheory.org/Autsit/.

RAVEN: For those who haven't read your book could you talk a bit about how you started and the immediate and long term benefits?

ANLOR: My book is called Being Seen and more information about it can be found on my website, https://autizen.wordpress.com/author/anlordavin/. I like the short description a friend wrote about it: “Anlor Davin is an author, teacher, mother, French immigrant and a Zen student. She has recently published her book, Being Seen, a memoir about an autistic woman struggling not only to be seen but to be understood and respected. Today Anlor works daily to help people understand autism of the kind that she experiences, and to let people know the value of basic meditative practice in living, and thriving, in autism."

RAVEN: Do you sit with your eyes open or closed and do you feel that makes a difference?

ANLOR: I sit with my eyes downcast and very slightly opened, that’s is the form used in Soto zen. The few times I had my eyes open, like the first minute of a sitting period, I find that I do not “listen inside me” as well and I do not do it at any other times. However I constantly try to sit while I am waiting somewhere in public, and for that my preference seems to be to close my eyes shut…as if shutting them would take away the constantly changing noise! I have never been able to sit very long in such situations, but I have noticed that when the noise remains somewhat stable (for example once I am inside the plane) I have a better chance.

RAVEN: Did the lack of dogma help you to choose Zen?

ANLOR: Yes and no. Yes because I am a person who does not like any kind of external input, neither in guided meditation or in being asked to focus on something outside (for example an image). When I was a child I badly wanted to not talk as much as I did (I was hyperlexic, a condition often seen in autistic children, which felt to me like if I had diarrhea of the mouth).

No because I am not sure I had a choice when I found Zen: I feel extremely grateful to have stumbled upon this practice, which despite –and may be because- of its challenges seems to me the best shortcut to…let’s call it “contentment”.

How the Zendo Saved Our Lives

I have been finding that zen sitting quietly with what is (we never called it meditation because that word has so many other connotations) has gotten me through the last rough times I've been having with sensory and emotional issues. 

I decided to research this further, and would also like to hear from other Autistic meditators, whatever kind you do, and maybe write another book. I have also been researching how the brain reacts to mindfulness (although this is another word with too many definitions) meditation.

You can leave comments and I will try to respond and dialogue with you if you like.  I have an upcoming online interview I am working on and it will be my next blog post.

I decided to add the chapter I wrote in my own autobiography of how Zen sitting changed my and my son's lives and helped us to cope and become more centered.

How the Zendo Saved Our Lives

I’d joined the Nichiren Shoshu Buddhists right after high school, and had stayed closer to the Buddhist spiritual path and world view than any other. When I discovered (they tried to hide themselves) the Ring of Bone Zendo I was welcomed in regardless of race creed or sex. They didn’t even care if you practiced some other religion in your off time. And no one “normal” is desperate enough to tie their legs in knots and sit around in silence for long periods of time.

For Aspies it can be like coming home. First off, it is a group of people that get together on a regular basis and spend most, if not all, of that time NOT TALKING to each other. And during the long retreats we were even forbidden from making social gestures to each other. Oh bliss and thanksgiving. Rules that said “DON”T look any person in the eye. No talking. And the best part, don’t even talk to yourself. Just breathe, count, and try to answer (without words perhaps) senseless riddles. There is no visualization or mantras, in fact you keep your eyes open but lowered and unfocused. The idea is to be present and ok with what is, without having to change anything.

The teaching and monitoring of our “progress” was done in a separate hut, and was just between each practitioner and our roshi, or teacher. So no one knew what we talked or didn’t talk about or how far we were on our path. In fact, it is quite traditional and common just to sit and stare at

Roshi until one of the two bows, or yells, or leaves. Or just wiggles eyebrows. Roshi’s have a great sense of humor, if a bit unusual (quite Aspie-like).

Since everything was done in silence, the weekly sitting and longer retreats were carefully organized and scheduled so everything could go on with a minimum of talking. Each person was assigned a job at the beginning of the sesshin and the recipes and menus for the cooks were written out and planned in advance. Choppers chopped their assigned vegetables early in the morning and got the rest of the day off. Jobs were rotated for the regulars so we couldn’t complain (well, I did whine a bit). If you showed enough progress you could become a leader (they had meetings and talked the most). I was a leader at the Monday night sittings sometimes. I specialized as Ino, or chant leader. I loved the chants, and bringing us out of silence.

I also cherished the time away from my life and children. Learning to observe my thoughts and letting them go without judgment like bubbles or clouds in the sky was immensely valuable to me. Without even trying, my life became more fulfilling and meltdowns less frequent. When both my children were living at home they often criticized my abandoning them for spiritual enlightenment and coming home “spacey”. I wouldn’t be ready to deal with whatever disaster had happened or was happening.

After Astrid moved out, Eric became interested in finding inner peace and living life differently. One day he read Thich Naht Hahn’s book Being Peace that I owned, and had left laying around the house. Eric started asking me if he could go to the Zendo on Monday night with me. At first I thought he wanted to go because he was just learning how to drive and the three mile dirt road to the Zendo was one I would let him drive on. But when I told him I wouldn’t drive home (I was already next door to the Zendo) and get him, he started crying over the telephone and revealed that he’d read Being Peace and had started crying then, just thinking there were other people in the world that thought that way, of interdependence and lovingkindness, and non-violence.

I’ve mentioned the success of Eric’s Jr. High therapy which definitely shifted his world and made him a much easier person to be with. But the everyday stress of adolescence and high school took their toll. Already different, he entered high school as a “ridge kid”. The entire group of kids from his elementary school were ostracized from the beginning and forced to eat at their own separate table in the cafeteria. There weren’t enough kids of other racial backgrounds to discriminate against, so they had to go geographical. And economic level, we were poorer out there. He had episodes of suicidal thoughts perhaps more frequent than I knew.

He was still bullied (the boys were getting bigger and more violent now) but he still didn’t want to fight back. The Zendo gave him a model for a peaceful man. Eric became a regular with me at the Monday night sittings. For awhile we took an earlier Monday evening Yoga class that helped calm our minds, stretch our bodies, and have just enough time to get to the Zendo. The women in the yoga class loved his dedication and lanky body trying to stretch into the poses. He made friends here that would help him through the years. One of the women he met would hire him to help correct the homework in her remedial math classes in high school, and gave him rides home when he needed to stay after the bus left. With a 30 mile round trip down and up a canyon road to and from high school, this was quite a bonus. And an ally in the school.

Eric started sitting the weekend sesshins when he was 15. He was the youngest member to sit sesshin. He also started sleeping outside in a tent, and setting an alarm so he could wake early and sit before school started. One day I talked to Gary Snyder, famous poet and founder and neighbor of the Zendo, about Eric. He said if I lived in Japan I’d just send him down the road to the nearest Monastery. And I would have done it one or two years ago. Perfectly normal. That was a help.

In Eric’s junior year we were both having relationship problems and decided to apply as a team to run the Honolulu Zendo. This was fun to think about. I would have pulled Eric out of school and he could have used the break. The qualities we offered as a team would have made us good contenders for the job. At least that’s what we were told. But fear of change and fear of giving up the dysfunctional relationships kept us from formally applying. It was fun thinking about it.

Later when it became time for Eric to find his own home, and he didn’t know what to do or where to go, I sent him off to a five day sesshin, and when he got out he knew just what to do, and moved in with John Strapek, an ex-boyfriend (did I mention how he got along with my boyfriends only after we broke up). This was a wonderful decision for him, and let him live with adult male supervision, a lesbian couple next door to feed him, and John became a father figure in his life. John died just after Eric received his AS diagnosis.

A Week Without Facebook

OK. It's been over a week now since I left Facebook. My mind is calmer I'm sleeping better and serenity is returning to my soul. 

As an autistic empathetic person with a long term visual memory and the ability to read rapidly while scrolling, my Facebook timeline, with over 800 friends and multitudes of pages and groups, was becoming a journey into the pathos and pain of the entire world. I quit watching television news over 30 years ago because the images stayed in my brain. If I have to watch the suffering of the world I just don't have any energy left to do good works or communicate efficiently with friends and neighbors. 

And then listening to the conversations of friends near and far and neighbors complaining on the neighborhood groups had become too much for me. Friends from far away made me long for other beautiful places and friends nearby had conversations and posts it was just better not to hear about. 

I found I was spending way too much time thinking and worrying about people who had no impact or influence in my life anymore and knowing what my friends were doing without ever inviting me was like being a lost Aspie girl in school again, wondering why no one invited me to parties. BTW autistic people like being invited even if they can't or don't go. 

I find I am thankful for much I learned and people I met on Facebook but I am still enjoying my respite. 

I got a ride this morning from the father of a young friend of mine, who lives in Southern California when not visiting here, and he said his wife knows everything going on in the world just from reading my timeline. So maybe I might have done some good with my forwarding information and humor. 

But I'm off duty now. 

More musings later 

I'm off Facebook!

I'm going to try something new now. For awhile at least I am going to post in my blog when I have things to say. Ha ha! Today I am posting from my tablet to see if I can do it without a computer. Windows euthanized my Windows Vista system. 

I was beginning to feel my Facebook news feed was looking like the evening news I had quit watching over 30 years ago. And I found myself angry with friends who wouldn't listen to my arguments in the pursuit of truth. And I was tired of hearing about what my friends were doing and not inviting me. And group conversations on Messenger. And messages on Messenger. Then my Facebook and Messenger apps quit working on my tablet and one beautiful morning I was out of bed early and social media social anxiety free. I think I can do this. 

So now I am going to rant and rave here for awhile. 

Maybe someone is out there listening. 

My Non-apology Cards

 These are what I call my non-apology cards. They explain some of my Asperger's behaviors in words I can't always find in the moment. They help me to express myself in a way that adds not subtracts from my self-esteem.

I encourage others to make their own cards, for their own situations, but I have found that many identify with these feelings, and I think they are good for other people, not just Aspies.

Thriving During Mercury Retrograde, or any other time

Since I have begun practicing silent magic of thanksgiving and humility the miracles have been abundant.  What would Mercury Retrograde do to my new found (or re-found) ability to be in the right place at the right time and catch the miracle.  Usually I dread and fear Mercury Retrograde and blame all my problems during that time on it, commiserate with my friends whose cars and phone and appointments aren’t working.

But this time I’m working with the crazy idea I can be happy every day and everything I need falls into my path.  And a couple of Facebook posts said there were ways around it.  So I just decided it wouldn’t affect me this time negatively.  And I’d heard of actually being able to use the Mercury Retrograde energy for positive results.  So then I forgot about it and went on my own happy miraculous thankful way.

What I did notice was the miracles seemed to be picking up in intensity and frequency.  I’d see a post on Facebook reminding me it was Mercury retrograde, but I skimmed onto the next post.  When I noticed a post giving thanks Mercury retrograde was ending, I said, “Wow, I surfed right through that one.”

Then I thought maybe Mercury retrograde actually helped with some of the miracles bouncing me through missed appointments and car troubles until I was at the right place at the right time connecting with others who were bounced out of their usual orbits.  The coincidences were certainly amazing.

So there it is, how to thrive during Mercury retrograde, or any time things don’t work out the way you planned:  let go of control and go with the flow.  Our main lesson recently with the lava in Pāhoa town. 

Catch the miracles as they fly by because they will be fast and coming from a direction you don’t expect.  Give thanks.

Raven Creates Her World

Once there was a rainbow river flowing round and round in a circle with no hole.  Everywhere this flowing rainbow river sang and danced with itself round and round in the circle with no beginning and no end.  Nothing was there but the rainbow ocean of dancing light.  The dancing light wove itself into tapestries of shifting perspectives.  Time had not yet been born.

A Black Speck appeared when enough colors had collided to melt into emptiness.  The Black Speck danced and danced, growing and growing until it had mass and energy.  It was creating form from emptiness. Darkness from light.  It danced and danced until feathers appeared and then a sharp beak and wings unfolding dancing round and round darkness growing from rainbow light colliding in the dance unfolding darkness until Raven is born.  She dances and dances round and round in the dance hall of rainbow light that is the universe.

Raven and Rainbow dance into eternity and create the world.

The rainbow circled down and reached the nearest collection of solid space, held solid by generations of beings imagining the grass and sky.  Born to unsuspecting human parents, Raven never forgets the rainbow light and searches for it long and down dark narrow places, searching myths and legends for signposts pointing the way back.  Her search leads down all paths.  The cross and circle into impossible patterns of breathtaking beauty and shattered dreams.  The dance is crowded with so many steps the beginning and end are forgotten.  The dance becomes the reality.  Raven dreams of dancing with the wind, dancing with the rainbow, but the sky presses close and gravity hold her tight to the ball of consciousness created by the many sentient beings, each dancing their own dance with the rainbow light, each creating their own black speck of emptiness, filling it with form and movement.  Raven dances on. 

One day, tired of dancing, she sits quietly under a cedar tree.  Time and space slow until it is no problem to hear the slow speech of the plant people.  They are fascinated by the fast dancing humans and animals, and have great wisdom to share.  Raven spends more and more time under the trees, dancing now with the waving branches and the wind, sitting quietly when she tires.  Human thoughts and word slow and she becomes quieter and quieter as she sits in the comforting arms of Grandmother Cedar.

Summer comes and she sits on the rocks by the river listening to the song of the flowing water.  Days and hours lose meaning for her until one day she can hear the slow speech of the rock people.  Wise and patient, they teach her about waiting, and how to listen to the song of the universe.  Years pass on the banks of the river, waiting and listening, flowing with the water, merging with the rocks.  Humans can barely see her now, she sits so still and quiet.  All the languages are hers. 

One day, sitting quietly, a rainbow rises in the sky and touches ground at the very spot she sits.  Bathed in rainbow light she remembers everything.  Back, back she travels in time, back to the dancing, back through all her partners, back through space shrinking until she becomes the black speck in the rainbow light, smaller and smaller until she dissolves and is the rainbow once more.  Time and space have vanished and everywhere and everything happens simultaneously.  The universe of endless possibilities is her world.  Joy is her surroundings.  She is not even she anymore, but the whole, the rainbow, the everything, the nothing.  Time surrounds but cannot enter.  Everywhere and nowhere become lovers and their union is who she is.  Nothing, nothing but the rainbow light everywhere.  She has come home.

Back on the river bank, Raven blinks her eye and the world returns.  Just as before, the rocks and trees welcome her return.  This time she has not forgotten and she can remember the rainbow world and how to get there.  The rocks cheer for her good fortune.  She knows it is time now to leave the river and the trees and go back to the land of humans and their fast speech.  But she knows now the knowledge of the stillness as well as the beauty of the dance.  She will return often.

Back in the land of the humans, Raven wants to tell them of the beauty of the Rainbow World, and what she learned there, that time and space are our creations and we are all one, all part of the rainbow light, but her voice is harsh and hard to understand, and her black feathers only reflect the rainbow when the sun is shining at just the right angle.  She walks awkwardly, tilting her head and beak, trying to find the right words, living on the edge of civilization, eating whatever comes her way for nourishment.

Fascinated by human song, she spends hours and days listening on the edges of record stores, radio stations, karaoke bars, humming to the tunes and inventing her own melodies.  it takes time and practice, but she has learned patience and perseverance in her many travels.  At last, the song flows from her and she can sing.  Rainbows flow from her inner being and are released in song.  She is radiant with happiness, and the rainbows are now reflected in her feathers no matter what the light is.  Her song fills the emptiness in her being.

Scientific Grounding

The Story

I’m writing this post because just recently I have resumed sitting quietly every morning for 25 minutes.  I hadn’t done this for quite a while, and had become addicted to waking up before dawn and playing internet games on my iPod.  This left no time for morning meditation.

During the height of the Pāhoa flowing lava crises (two weeks before the national news media picked up the story) I was worried, stressed, hot, no air worth breathing, and one friend said I was spinning so much it made her dizzy to be around me.  I decided to start my morning sitting.

I do Za-zen, a type of meditation where, instead of closing your eyes and meditating on some thing or idea, you keep your eyes open but lowered, and stay present with what is.  After only one day I became happier and more centered.  I’ve written on Aspie groups before about how sitting (in my bed even) for 25 minutes in the morning helps me make the transition between sleep and waking that is often where the day’s anxiety begins, where feelings left over from dreams and yesterday intrude on the coming day.

I also knew from my Zen sesshin (retreat) sitting that the longer I spent in silence, the more I was in the right place at the right time.  A weekend lasted a day or so but a seven day one could last up to a week.

So I wasn’t surprised when what I call the magic started happening.  This is being in the right place at the right time and noticing it, and taking advantage of gifts and opportunities that present themselves.  This is what is called manifestation.  Bringing desire into reality.

And it just got better.  Each day brought new miracles and opportunities.  My life was becoming more and more what I hoped for it to be.  I started setting my alarm on days I had to go somewhere early to allow for a half hour of sitting time.  And if I still wanted to play iPod internet games I would just add that in for afterwards.  Even though I was getting up earlier, I had more energy throughout  the day.

Then I started just standing and breathing into the earth at various times during the day.  I could feel myself connecting to the solid earth and the flowing lava and calm my racing heart and emotions.

The Scientific Part

So why does it work? I knew it worked but I wanted a reason why.  I knew that if you quiet your mind your body has a chance to take over and heal you without all that mental jabber interfering.  and also that quieting the mind puts you in touch with the higher mind, or whatever you might want to call it, where information flows directly from everywhere, everything, and all times.  I only believe in this because I have experienced it.  That’s why I I took up Zen sitting because you don’t have to believe anything until you experience it.

This time, with all that lava flowing, it was easy for me to realize the morning sitting was grounding and connecting my busy Aspie mind with the earth, with here and now, with the island, with what is.

I also love electricity.   I’ve been sticking forks in electric outlets since I could crawl.  Changing light switches and electric outlets since grade school.  Now I work with DC electric for my solar system.  DC, direct current, electricity relies on a positive and negative pole.  Nothing works without both being connected.  You can pour as much energy as you want into the positive pole of a rechargeable battery or device, but nothing happens until the negative pole is connected.  Then the toy runs, the music plays, the light shines.  Energy made manifest in the world.

It’s the same with people.  One of my theories is that people on the autistic spectrum have more electricity in their bodies than most people causing the busy mind and repetitive movements that soothe by releasing excess energy.  This could be one reason meditation is so beneficial for the Aspie mind.

But it is a scientific fact that our bodies generate and conduct electricity.  The DNA molecule in each cell produces photons of light. Doctors know running controlled amounts of electric current through the body can help it to heal. Electricity powers our nerve synapses.

So there you go.  It’s simple.  To make the universal energy flowing through everywhere (remember Tesla) you need to connect both poles of your body.  And just like AAA batteries the flat part on the bottom is the negative pole and the part at the top with the little bump (laughing here) is the positive pole.  And every tradition insists on a straight spine while recharging.  I recharge my AA and AAA batteries with the free energy from the sun. I recharge my internal batteries with the infinite free energy from the universe.  Now I can play with the toy, hear the music, shine the light.

This is the last chapter from my book, posted after Lynda Geller from Spectrum Services in New Youk City liked this part of my book the best.

Coping Strategies

When I started this project I could hardly wait to get done with my life story so I could start giving advice.  Now, a year later, and after listening to the stories and problems of so many others, I don’t want to advise anyone on what they should do, but I would like to share the ways I learned to cope as an undiagnosed Aspie in case they might be of help to others.

One Best Girlfriend

 

A definite pattern I noticed, and one that was in the list of characteristics of Aspergirls, different from the boys, was the tendency to have one best female friend to help get through the social morass of life.  I would try this with husbands and boyfriends, but it wasn’t the same, though it did work for providing me a social life.

The downside to my best woman friend would be when we would break up and end the friendship, usually because she became tired of some of my behavioral characteristics and conversational abilities, or interference from either side by lovers.  The despair of losing my best friend would be equal to or more than losing my lover, spiraling me into months of depression.

The last time was when I learned about Asperger’s, and it took me over six months to recover.  I gave up friends for awhile, but now have a friend I do things with.  It is just too hard to have no one to help me.  I explain about my Asperger’s now and friends have to accept me and my conversational skills, or I don’t want them as friends.

Volunteering for Events

 

This has been an enormous help to me.  When I go to an event by myself I just feel lonely.  When I volunteer to help at an event not only do I get in free, but there is a sense of belonging and people I am forced to talk to.  Volunteering is better than paid jobs for me as the stress and pressure is much lower and I feel I can just do what I can, and not have to worry about being better.

Follow Your Passions

 

I read in one book that you should discourage your Aspie child’s passions before they become too consuming and interfere with normal childhood social life.  I became angry when I read that.  My passions are where I find my friends and they help me have interesting conversations.  Often Aspie children get along better with adults and I think that can be okay.  Finding a group of people who have the same passions is exciting.

I find most of my friends in groups I share my passions with.  My lauhala weaving club and my hula classes help me meet people.  Now I have a small writers’ group I meet with once a week, and these people are new and welcome additions to my social circle.

Alternative Social Groups

 

I listen to other Aspies on my Facebook groups who are worried about not fitting in to their culture.  I feel I was lucky that I discovered the hippies in my teenage years and since then have lived around others on the fringes of society where there is a wider definition of acceptable behavior.

I’ve lived the last twenty-five years in neighborhoods where we were far from “normal” and have gotten used to the freedom to be myself.  The San Juan Ridge was a wonderful place for me to live and raise my children.  Now I live in lower Puna where we call ourselves Punatics and have bumper stickers reading, “Why Be Normal?” and “We’re All Here Because We’re Not All There.”

Celebrate Diversity.

Socially Accepted Stimming

 

Before I heard of Asperger’s I had never heard of stimming.  This is repetitive body movements autistic people do for comfort and to de-stress situations.  As a child I would move my fingers in circles round each other and fondle the satin edges of my blankets.  These behaviors along with finger sucking long past babyhood annoyed my mother, and she would slap my hands if she caught me doing any of these things, so I learned to stop when I could hear her coming, or if she was in the same room with me.  I talked to another possible Aspie adult friend whose mother did the same thing to her for her hand movements, and because we both experienced pleasure and relaxation from them, we both got it confused in our childhood minds with masturbation, which also included repetitive hand movements, pleasure, and relaxation.  We could laugh about it as adults, but still couldn’t understand why our mothers had been so against it.

As an adult I found myself flapping or vibrating my hands when stressed.  I would mostly do it when other people weren’t looking or when walking by myself or dancing.  I rationalized the behavior as getting extra electricity out of my body, and I still think that might be a valid conclusion.  One of my personal theories is that Aspies have more electricity in their bodies (scientific fact, everyone has electricity in their bodies, and the DNA molecules in every cell generate an electric charge) than most other people, which also accounts for our minds working so fast and thinking thinking thinking thinking all the time.

My favorite form of socially accepted stimming is wild and crazy dancing to a heavy beat. Unlike some Aspies who can’t be around loud and booming music, I find it relaxing.  Out there jazzy music with no melody and no definable beat has caused panic attacks listening to it when I’m already stressed, and is uncomfortable for me to listen to and can send me into depression even if I’m feeling happy.  If I am depressed or stressed or even grieving I can pull myself out by dancing wildly to music with a good beat.

My son has the same love of loud booming music, and introduced me to dance techno which I love.  He used to have a car with loud bass speakers behind the back seat that could rattle the jars on the shelves at Mother Trucker’s Market when he was parked outside.  I loved to sit in the back seat and feel the vibrations through my body.

Eric went through his headbanger stage as a teenager where he would throw himself against walls while dancing.  Socially acceptable headbanging.  I would be disapproving of it as a mother when he would do it at home because mothers are supposed to be disapproving of that.

There is that saying, “Dance like no one is watching,” and ever since I discovered dancing by myself without a partner that is the way I have danced.  Now, if I try to dance with a partner I feel restricted, just dancing with one person instead of the whole world, though I can dance and flirt with one person for a short time until I dance off.  I can be the first person dancing and inspire more people to get up and dance.  Bands love me for this.  They love wild crazy dancers.

I was lucky living in Nevada County and the San Juan Ridge where this was the accepted way of dancing.  Now I am lucky living next to Kalani Honua where every Sunday there is Ecstatic Dance where EVERYONE dances wild and crazy and there is NO TALKING ALLOWED!  I don’t go every week any more but just knowing it is always there for me is comforting.

I can also just plug my iPod earplugs in and dance by myself in my kitchen or bedroom, or out in the empty street.  No one really is watching then.  Works better than organized aerobics as an exercise practice for me. 

Meditation and Yoga

 

I’ve written about how Zen meditation saved both Eric’s and my lives.  It isn’t important what kind of meditation you do.  Yoga can be good for getting your body involved and keeping moving, especially Vinyasa Yoga, which is way too fast for me, but wonderful for others.

Walking meditation is another common practice, and Thich Nhat Hahn uses it in his retreats and teaching.  Chanting and singing Kirtan, a Hindu practice of singing songs to deity, are also ways of stilling the mind.

I personally appreciate Buddhism for its lack of a spiritual deity, and emphasis on doing and experiencing, and lack of dogma.  In conversations online I have noticed many Aspies having trouble with dogma and a God that doesn’t make sense or isn’t logical.  Buddhism is not a religion but a pathway with signposts and fellow travelers.  There are many forms for individual preferences, with no one saying their way is the best for everyone, or the only way.

I feel that Aspies can use some way to learn to quiet their minds.  We seem to have overactive minds that lead to overthinking and anxiety.  Biofeedback is being tried now for Asperger’s in children and adults.  I find if I sit quietly for a half hour each morning the day is just better and I am a more relaxed person.  I meditate now, not because I should, but because it works.

Diet and Exercise

 

Even on my Facebook groups, diet and exercise are recommended by many as ways for Aspies to adjust better to life.

I had severe trouble with artificial flavorings and colorings, nitrates, milk, and chocolate in childhood.  Now it seems like my body knew what was good for it but over the years I have managed to overcome this.

When Eric was a baby I was deep into my whole foods and no sugar lifestyle.  I would use honey, but since it was so expensive I didn’t use much.  Later I decided not overdosing Eric on sugar when he was a baby caused his trouble with it as an older child, but now I think it might have been part of his Aspie sensitivities.  Sugar was like a drug to him, causing hyperactivity, anxiety, and bouncing off the walls.

In high school he discovered espresso and lattes, and they were heavy drugs for him.  Once he discovered dehydration on bicycle rides as a drug and I wondered why he couldn’t just do alcohol and pot like normal children.

At one point in junior high school he was eating only milk, oatmeal, and bananas.  I understand now this was part of the Aspie tendency to avoid some foods and eat only a few certain things.  It wasn’t enough to keep him healthy, however, and when he started suffering from disabling abdominal cramps I took him to the Ridge medical clinic where the nurse explained that eating only white foods did not provide the proper nutrition to maintain a healthy body.

One time in high school he was in the Community Endeavor newspaper office when a staff member’s son explained why a vegan diet was important if you cared about animals.  Eric decided to become a vegan in that moment and I had to go out and buy all new food for us to eat.

Now I find that my own mental health is tied to my eating habits.  And in both directions.  Eating no vegetables, too much sugar, fats, and white flour makes me depressed, but when depressed that is all I want to eat.

Exercise is essential for me to sleep well, and also to keep from being depressed and nervous.  Fortunately I love to walk, and now with iPods and earbuds I can just plug into my favorite dance music and dance alone at home without bothering anyone.  Music changes my mood and makes me happy, but it is another thing I will ignore doing when depressed.  If I am alone enough to sing to the music I get even happier.  I started hula dancing to keep from thinking about my own problems, and now look forward to Friday afternoons when I can sing and dance and let joy enter my body.

Menopause and Hormones

 

It is becoming more widely known that many Aspies are sensitive to hormones.  There has been quite a lot written about Aspergirls and menarche and what a trying time that can be.  As more diagnosed Aspie women enter menopause that will be written about more, but for now it is still an almost unresearched subject.

I went crazy when I was young trying to take hormone birth control pills, and during menopause my nurse practitioner, even before knowing about Asperger’s, noticed that I seemed to be very sensitive to hormones.  I decided to just go cold turkey through menopause, not even doing many herbal remedies, and I quit all phyto-estrogen foods and herbs, such as raspberry leaf, dong quai, and soy products because they would start me bleeding all over again, when all I wanted to do was stop.

I had intense hot flashes for years, and when alone I would throw off all my clothes and stand naked.  I would just wear a sarong in the summer so I could do that easily.  I was afraid to go out in public in case I would forget and strip down to underwear.  If I was wearing any.  In the winter I would go outside barefoot and stand on cold cement or snow to balance out my temperature.  This was the only way I could visit relatives who expected me to stay fully clothed at all times.  I buzzed my hair one day because I was taking two or three cold showers a day, and spending a half hour each time combing out the tangles took too much time out of my life.  I had to get my head wet to get relief.

I would cry at a moments’ notice, if anyone said even the least little negative thing to me.  I was embarrassed to go out also because of this tendency.  I had the same trouble in pregnancy.  I would also get angrier easier than I do now or did before.  I thought this was the way I would be forever, and depression was also a companion to me.

The good news is that it finally ended.  I still get some hot flashes, but not the disabling ones I used to have, and my mood swings are slower these days.  My breasts aren’t so tender that they hurt to be touched, and I finally stopped bleeding altogether.  Hallelujah!  Now I look at sanitary napkins and tampons when I see them as some sort of odd thing I used in another life.   I enjoy that part.

Reading Murder Mysteries

 

I tell my friends that everything I learned about social behavior I learned from murder mysteries.  While that isn’t exactly true, I do find murder mysteries helpful in charting my way through proper social behavior.  I know you should bring food to houses after people die.  I learn what normal people think other people should look like, even if I don’t want to look like that myself.  I learn what behavior is expected if you want to appear normal.  I even get to learn what psychopaths think about.

Murder mysteries, especially the low key and humorous ones with women amateur sleuths, the ones I like to read, rely on reading the behavior and motives of all the possible suspects.  I learn what makes people do things, and what they are thinking.  Sometimes this comes in handy in real life.  I can look at people and wonder what character they would be if they were in a novel.  I have trouble writing fiction, but reading it helps me through life.

Forgive Everyone Everything

 

And then do it again, and again, and again…It is easy for Aspies to get frustrated with other people’s behavior and words.  Getting angry and not forgiving them only causes pain for ourselves.  If we want others to accept us the way we are, it means also accepting others with all of their faults and idiosyncrasies too.  This doesn’t mean you have to hang out with them forever, it is fine in my opinion to just quit associating with people who don’t make you feel good about yourself, but holding on to anger and resentment does them no harm, just yourself.  Forgiveness is a very selfish thing; you are the one who benefits the most.  As in the expression: “It’s like drinking poison, and expecting the other person to die.”  Forgiveness is not condoning the other person’s actions, it is freeing yourself.

I feel safe.

I feel safe under the Pūhala trees.

Their prehistoric tenaciousness fills me with awe.

In earthquakes they laugh,

in hurricanes they wave to and fro

            cleaning old leaves far due to drop,

in lava eruptions they are stillness and solitude

providing comfort and company.

Ulana ana lauhala fills my days

            as Pele flows to the ocean.

No Words Neededd

The Place Where There Aren’t Any Words

Sometimes I talk on and on

words flowing freely

when I feel comfortable and safe

Sometimes when I am confused

by noises or anger or fear

the words go away

At first I try to talk with words that aren’t there

until

I fall into rest

exhausted

no need for words

no need for words

  -Raven Joy

Tea Story

Tea From Home

I’m growing soil

in my garden

from teabags made in
the land of my birth
five airplane hours away.
I toss the bags
label and all
into the garden
from my front porch
sometimes the string
and labels
get caught on branches
waving and disintegrating
in the air
like prayer flags.

Astrid's First Heavy Metal Concert

A funny chapter from my book Life in the Asperger's Jungle

I do have noise sensitivities. I get nervous and can have panic attacks from fireworks, barking dogs, yelling people, and city chaos. But give me a good driving beat, anywhere from 60’s rock to techno, and I am right up at the biggest loudspeaker, or in the middle front of the stage, rocking to the music. I can stim to my heart’s content and be normal. When the music starts, I can’t sit. I MUST DANCE!!! The harder and more driving the beat the more I MUST DANCE. I absolutely can not understand people who can sit still and not dance. Though now in my elder years I do see the appeal of sitting in a chair and resting now and then. But only when I’m tired. Eric also loves a driving beat, and he introduced me to techno music. I loved to sit in the back seat of his over-speakered boom box car and feel the base beat vibrate through my body.

When the beat is strong and I’m in a crowd of like minded crazed dancers where the music is way too loud to even pretend to have conversations and make small talk, I am finally comfortable and can let down my barriers and merge with the crowd. I become an energy junkie, all of us moving and jumping together. Without talking. I didn’t get to a Grateful Dead concert till my 40’s, but from the first second I knew I belonged.

My daughter Astrid wanted to go to a Tesla concert in Sacramento at the Arco Arena. Two other of her girlfriends were going. I was worried about her going to a concert without responsible adult supervision, including an adult driver. It happened that my friend Michelle was a Tesla fan. She offered to go with Astrid, and even pay her way. I was welcome to go along, but I had to buy my own ticket. Tesla was actually the local band opening for the nationally known group Poison, heavier metal than Tesla.

Finding Arco Arena (even though it could be seen easily from the freeway) and parking successfully was a big accomplishment in my book, but the rest of the car seemed to take this part of the adventure as easy. Ha! None of them could get even near to my stamina and bravery once we got inside.

Our admission tickets entitled us to a seat overlooking the floor, which had been transformed from a basketball court into a stage and mosh pit. After finding seats high up and far away, which seemed to please Michelle, Astrid and her friends decided to wander down to floor level to check out the action.

I tried to sit with Michelle and make small talk, and enjoy the music from far away, although the idea seemed stupid to me. And of course, when the music started nothing could keep me in my seat, so far, far away from the music. I jumped around in my seat for a few minutes, then, making some sort of apology to Michelle for not being social, ran down the steps to the mosh pit. Not quite the united loving energy of a smashed together Grateful Dead dance crowd. I could feel the edge to it, but still I was drawn in. I was nearing 40, but had worn a black miniskirt, black tank top, and my fave dancing boots, black leather with fringe.

Once in the mosh pit, I noticed that the object seemed to be to get to the front and touch the stage or the musicians. Okay, a goal. I pushed my way in. Forward was a challenging direction and smashed in among everyone we all moved together as some pushed, and then others. Back and forth. I would have fallen over except for being held up by surrounding leaning bodies. I loved it. The main danger seemed to be guys with girls on their shoulders who would fight and the rest of us would sway back and forth. Ebb and flow.

I kept pushing forward, pulled by the beat and the stage. Confetti (the old fashioned paper kind) showered mysteriously down upon us. The rest of the world no longer existed. Only the music, the crowd, and the stage, where even crazier people gyrated, writhed, and produced music. Several times I thought I’d lose my glasses, but miraculously they stayed on. The fringe on my boots somehow managed to get stepped on, possibly in those moments when we were all leaning sideways in defiance of gravity. I seemed to be the eldest in the crowd, but took pride that at least I was dressed appropriately.

And then…I TOUCHED THE STAGE! Nothing between me and the wild musicians but air. I celebrated and luxuriated in my success for awhile, and then felt okay backing off and letting others have the coveted position. I didn’t leave the mosh pit, but stayed there for the rest of the concert. Happily swaying back and forth in a mass of non-verbal humanity.

When the music stopped, I knew I couldn’t get back to our seats, so I followed the crowd out to the front door where I figured I would wait for everyone else. What I hadn’t realized was that none of them had been as consumed by the music as I had, and they had planned their exit much better, and were already there waiting for me. My daughter’s mouth fell open, and “Oh my God, Mother,” was all that she could say.

“I touched the stage,” was all that I could say.

Everyone seemed to be staring at me in an odd manner. I took a quick glance at myself, and noticed the footprints on my boot fringe, that my clothes were sopping wet, and every inch of exposed skin seemed to be covered with wet confetti. I really hadn’t noticed.

Astrid told me her trip to the mosh pit had only lasted a short time before one of the two friends she came with passed out from the heat and excitement and the people, and they spent the concert in a corner away from the madding crowd. Michelle already considered me a flake and a poor maternal model, and this just proved her point.

BUT I HAD FUN!!!

First review for Life in the Asperger's Jungle on Amazon:

My fifteen year old son, who has Aspergers, and I are considering a move to the "Big Island" of Hawaii jungle region where Ms Joy now lives. When the book arrived here, I eagerly tore open the packaging and flipped to the chapters on the author's life in Hawaii, She aptly describes the trepidation around her decision to move there as we are similarly having now, and describes well the struggles with her Asperger-related physical and aural sensitives in a new unfamiliar environment, as I'm sure I can expect my son to have when we move there, it's all too familiar, the same for us. I found helpful lessons from her experiences that I'm sure I can extrapolate to benefit both my son and myself when we find the opening we're looking for to make a similar bold move. Son keeps asking when I'm going to be done with the book so he can read it himself. So I made it an official homeschool assignment, one I won't have to nag him about:-) --John Lionheart

Train of Thoughts

I move too fast
for my train of thoughts.
My body flying ahead,
thought train following
slowly derailing every now and then.
And my body flies.
Arriving at my destination
faster than my words
I stand looking in circles
wondering why am I here?
If I stay patient they often show up,
a small delay,
and then in one moment
there they are
and it’s ok.

My Book Is Published: Links to Buy It.

My book is finally published.

You can buy it in Paperback

or the Kindle version

from Amazon.

The paperback is also available at Create Space.

Haute Trash Hilo

I love trash fashion.  In my book I talk about how I started my trash fashion design career twenty-five years ago in California, and am still designing trash fashion in Hawai'i.  This year I designed this outfit, called Meditating with Trash for the Hilo Haute Trash fashion show at Imiloa, on October 26.  

Here is my script:

Meditating with Trash

In these troubled times, every now and then a rest from worry and a solitary quiet time can bring a sense of peace while the whole world whirls on.  Recyclarella created this mediation ensemble, modeled by Malama Opala, just for those times, and added inspirational sayings from her page-a-day Zen calendar, collected since 2009, to help calm the mind and remember to let go of what is not needed.  The robe is crafted from a shower curtain ruined by a housesitter’s hair dye, covered with calendar pages and duct tape accents. The casual off the shoulder look uses leftover rope scraps.  The loose fitting tunic and pants fall back on that classic trash fashion statement:  the black plastic trash bag, quilted for softer comfort in both walking and sitting meditation.  The hat, once a food screen before it became a cat toy, adds another layer of insulation from the outer world, with even more calendar pages and abandoned fishing line. Thank You, Malama Opala, and may this little rest provide you with strength in your mission to care for the planet.

Now that you have read this far, here are some more pictures of trash fashion I did not design, for your amusement.