Jan 07 2009
Accepting Reality
“I wish it wasn’t raining so we could take the kids outside.”
“Well…it is raining.”
How often does wishing for things that simply are not part of reality make us feel worse about our situation? How often are we not being truthful about what our reality is? For example, my husband’s statement about being able to take the kids out just made him feel worse about the fact that we were stuck indoors today; wishing that it wasn’t raining, sleeting in fact, wasn’t going to change the fact that it was too nasty to go out, so why bemoan it? And he wasn’t being completely truthful: He wanted it to stop raining because he was bored, and he wanted to go outside.
What does this have to do with autism? It occurs to me that at one time I argued with reality. I worried and angsted and wished for some way to ‘fix’ Gus’s issues, and what was worse, I had these thoughts (or so I told myself) because I wanted him to have a better life. Except he wasn’t the one complaining. I think at that time, I wanted me to have an easier life. I wanted the fulfillment of my own expectations. I’ve since come to a place of more (not perfect, but working on it) acceptance.
A few years ago, I read a book called Loving What Is by Byron Katie, and her words about accepting reality have stuck with me since. I haven’t done ‘The Work,’ and I’m no expert on her methods, but I’ve gotten at least far enough that I can deal with Gus’s disabilities without anger or resentment or any of the myriad negative feelings that are often expressed by some people about life with a child on the autism spectrum. And I’m not judging those people who do feel that way - I’m not living their reality; I can only work with mine.
What’s interesting is that there are two realities that parents of children with autism (and other disabilities, truth be told) have to face. There’s the reality that this is your child and you have to love and accept him/her for who they are. But there’s also the reality that your child will eventually grow up and have to function in a society that is not (currently) so unconditionally accepting. So by necessity, we either have to teach our children to navigate the world, or we have to change the world, or we have to somehow do both.
Until those things happen, I will keep entertaining and teaching and redirecting and doing my damnedest to be patient when things don’t go exactly according to my plan. The reality is that my plans are pretty insignificant in the grand scheme of things. I can either go with the flow or fight the tide. But if I get all wrapped up in the fighting, when the sun finally does come out, I’ll miss it and the chance to go out and play.
This was so beautifully written. It is a great observation and analogy. I really admire the way you and DH are so patient and loving with the kids. It is very clear that you love Gus for who he is as he is and always look for ways to do the best for him and I know it is not always easy to do.
-Michele