Why Hobbies are Valuable

I like to write.

If I could I'd write everyday.  I do inside my head. I compose blog entries and think up ideas for books I'll never write all day long. I wash the dishes, and vacuum the floors to stories untold that flash inside of my mind's eye disappearing before I can gather my thoughts into buckets of coherence in order to pour them out onto pages to share with others. It's not the collecting, but the holding that is the problem. As the daily tasks tick by the buckets leak my ideas, and by the time I slide into place before my computer screen the blinking cursor is taunting me. Blink.....Blink....Blink.....  A blank screen awaits my words, but I only remember quarter entries and half ideas. When I try to put them back together again it's like trying to put a puzzle together starting from the middle. It's difficult and I often can't find the words, so I end up moving onto to something else, usually going to bed.

So, many, or maybe I should say most days I don't write anything. I don't necessarily like it this way,  and I always think I'll do better the next day, and then I don't. I simply don't have time in the daily schedule to stop and write every time inspiration strikes, or a quiet moment to concentrate even if I did get a moment of downtime. Then I question how much it matters. How much does blogging really matter in the grand scheme of anything, really? I mean, I don't get paid to write. It's just something I like to do that is like a hobby for me and let's me connect with others. (And, no this isn't a solicitation for a paid blogging position, because there's always a catch in there where have to sell something that I feel will make me come across as less than genuine to my readers, so I'm not interested in that sort if thing.) Do these words matter that I am typing right now? Are there better, more productive ways to spend my time than this?

I guess there really isn't any solid answers to any of those questions, because they are a matter of perception. Maybe for some it does seem like a waste of my time to put so much effort into something I will likely never see any monetary gain from. I don't find that everything valuable in life can be measured by monetary value, though. Well being has a heavy value in my life, which carries with it many different facets. Mental health is a huge chunk of that. When I speak of feeling well I can be referring to many different feelings, both on a physical level and on a more emotional level.

Happy New Year from Level 39 :)

Today was the first day of 2018. I don't really get into the whole 'new year, new me' type of thing, but I do like to take some time in late December and the first days of January every year to reflect on my life. With my always [over]thinking brain my life, and it's direction,  purpose, and meaning is probably something I reflect on about every other day, if I were to be honest. Heh. I probably never fully stop thinking about it. There is just something more appealing, more magical about the concept of evaluating one's place in life at this time of year. Possibly because others are partaking, and it's a good time to share with each other our visions of future goals, and past aches.

As I sit in my quiet, dim lit living room sipping sleepytime tea as the clock approaches midnight I struggle to come up with concrete words to define what I would like to do in this upcoming year. I think the irony hits me that at an age where I am feeling more and more content with me, my physical body is beginning to flail, and gray hair is now the norm, if I dared to skip the dye for more than a few weeks. My youth is quickly fading into the distance, but I have never felt more alive. I don't mean this in the way of not having struggles, or that I began meditating, and now inner peace has beget me. Not at all. It's deeper than that. It's not a skill, or a place. It's more of a state of being that I've acquired, like a level in a game. Ha. It sounds pretty cool to say that I'm level 39, and have collected wisdom points. But, I have, and not everyone will be the same on level 39, but that is where I am.

I don't know what's different. I can't find any one thing to tease out of this tangle of inner concepts of feelings, and well being to definitely say, "This is what changed." I just know that I feel as if no matter what happens I'll be okay. even if I'm not okay, I will be okay again. As a matter of fact, I can bet that there are gonna be times in life that are so hard, that are so arduous that I won't be okay, I won't feel okay, but I will exit out on the other side, eventually. The only for sure thing in life is that there will be challenges, and smooth times, and mostly in between times, but the difference between now and earlier is that I felt like I might not be able to handle them. I didn't enjoy much of the good times, because my anxiety was always preparing me for a bad one, as if a person can ever be prepared for life's extreme challenges, anyway. It doesn't matter how hard we try, or how much we think we can, we can never truly prepare for situations like loss, and catastrophe. Losing people we love, and life shattering events, and even facing our own mortality are pieces of life that we try to predict with worry to give ourselves the illusion of control, but in the end we have none. We try to make sense of the patterns through the chaos of life, because we fear the fragility of it all. One thread might unravel everything. While that's true, I know that I can face it. I can fall into turmoil, and come back out again. I know this because I've done it again and again. Nothing is permanent, least of all not an adaptable human such as we all can be.

This whole different way of filling out my own skin has opened me up to accept more positive experiences. I don't fret with worry as much anymore. I don't find myself as dragged dow

Being Me

One major change that I have been working on in my life is not caring what others think of me. It is not true that people on the spectrum don't care what other people think about us. I do care, and I know others that do, too. What I don't care about is impressing people with status symbols, like clothes, cars, and a big nice house, ect..

However, I very much care if someone thinks I am annoying, stupid, ugly, a bad mom, or a host of other negative personal attributes. Not knowing always how to read people, and how to gauge situations I have learned to cope by playing it safe, and not saying, or doing anything until I am 100% certain it is appropriate to the situation.

I have stopped doing that. Now, if I feel like saying or doing something I do it. I worry that others' will think less of me for doing so, but the truth is I have to be me. I am tired of painting myself in the corner just to blend in. I'm going to do what I want for a change.

Sure, maybe not everyone will like what I do, or say, but that's fine. One of the hardest lessons I ever had to learn (and to be honest I am still learning it) is that not everyone is going to like me, and I am not always going to like everyone else. It's the way it is. We're not all always going to get along.

What I have found so far is that the less I consume my mind with wondering what others are thinking of me the less I think negative things about others. I simply notice the differences between us, and that's all. I am taking things much less personal these days. It's true that people are still doing the same things that always have gotten under my skin, but it affects me less.

This new outlook has improved my life

Off the Cuff, and From the Heart

As I sit here on my couch, and contemplate my day it's about 10:30 pm. I hear Beans running around his room tapping his an empty water bottle, and exclaiming "Daaaa daaaay deeee!" My husband slumbers half off our sectional couch so exhausted that our 55 pound dog just ran over his head several times chasing the cat without waking him. My daughter, and her boyfriend sit in the other room talking, and the floor is littered with grapes, and cracker crumbs. I still will have to clean up the kitchen, and put away laundry before bed, but that's okay, because Beans is not likely to go to sleep before 11:30 anyway. This scenario is not atypical for my house at this time of day. As a matter of fact, it's pretty on schedule for what I expect.

Today wasn't anything great. It's wasn't anything awful. It was just another day. I got some stuff done, but not all of what I wanted, or even needed to. I think that I will never have my list of to-do's completed. I could very well be 98, on my death bed still clutching my to-do list. I can see it now

No Homework- A guest post by Bubby

This piece was originally written by Bubby, my 11 year old autistic son for a school creative writing essay.  He worked really hard on this.  I know creative writing is very difficult for him, but I thought he did an excellent job with this one, so I wanted to feature it here on my blog.  

For more information about creative writing and why it's hard for some people on the autism spectrum visit this awesome article shared with me by Leah at 30 Days Of Autism.

         No Homework                    

Wouldn't it be fun if we had no homework?  I think all kids would agree. Would you like no homework?

We get more time to play at home.  The games we like, instead of homework.  The next reason is we work hard all day, so I need a break.  Finally, homework gets people upset, and people don't like to cry.

I hope teachers would stop giving students homework. We would be much happier!