The ironic thing about my last post is that I don't. I mean, I love Rumi's writing, but I don't yearn. The title was supposed to be a play on words. (y) earn. I was thinking that I have to earn the ability to yearn. I think having the ability to yearn is important. I know some people yearn too much. I don't want to yearn too much. I just want to yearn. To me, having the ability to yearn is not just the ability to imagine or desire. It's about being present, listening to myself, and imagining what I might need or want. - - - - Very recently I was poking around the internet, for the first time in months. I came across a blog I haven't visited in at least a year. Someone I never really knew very well. On the author's 'about' page they listed unresolved childhood issues as a 'turn off'. I chuckled a little at myself, and our collective human condition. I also know the only reason I've had the ability to consider my issues is because I have been safe and fortunate enough. It can seem self indulgent at times when you're looking backward, whether you do it by choice or just seem to find yourself there. At the same time, I feel that issues are issues are issues. Whether a one considers their source or not. Sure some issues don't come from formative years, but I think adult issues come as a response to how we've dealt with childhood issues. They're like questions asking for... something. Interpretation, growth. And yes, heh, issues can be a 'turn off'. Even to the folks who admit to having 'em. I stopped going to therapy a couple of years ago for a variety of reasons. One reason was because I felt I was ready. But there was another reason. I felt that I wasn't truly able to trust my therapist. I felt that if I did trust her, I would be able to hear her messages more clearly. I would be able to be intimate with her. I would be able to look her in the eye while I told her how I was feeling. Or feel something more when I told her how I was feeling. Something would be different... Maybe I would be different. Several months ago I was tested for Attention Deficit Disorder. And yeah, they confirmed I have some strong ADD characteristics. But they discovered something about me that I had sort of known previously and had forgotten, something I didn't have a name for. They said I have Asperger Syndrome. After they told me, I remembered. When I was a kid in foster care, when my life was fragmented and unsafe, I had taken some "tests". Afterward, I remember hearing one of the adults saying that I had several "autistic features". I had no idea what they were talking about. I mostly remembered the part where they said I had a freakish ability to read, spell and pronounce words. Anxiety, focus, repetition, relaxation, anxiety, focus, repetition, relaxation. I've learned that this is my cycle. This is why I have trouble feeling my feelings in front of other people. This is why I was different even before my mom became mentally ill. This is why I felt like I had to learn how to emote by watching other people, and felt like I was faking it all this time. This is why I enjoy work and focus so much. This is why I avoid certain kinds of interaction. This is why I am oblivious to some things and attentive to others, this is why I am so often overwhelmed. This explains why I see myself as a separate being whenever I imagine myself. I can't express how many mysteries this has solved for me. One of the surprises: I believe my ability to empathize was greatly enhanced by my mother's mental illness. If she had been well, I may not have been motivated to learn about the subtleties of the feelings of others or motivated to learn how to respond to them. - - - - A couple of days ago, I suddenly became ill in the middle of the night. I woke up sweating and sick to my stomach. After a couple of hours spent in the bathroom, I took a bath and lay on the couch trying to go back to sleep. I flipped through a few channels on the tv trying to find something uninteresting to lull me to sleep. I stopped on the movie, Honey. The one with Jessica Alba as the do-gooder / hip hop dancer. At one point, someone in the movie said, "I found something that I truly love, something that truly makes me happy." And then Honey realizes that she should find out what will make her happy. That struck me as important. To really know how to yearn, I have to seek happiness. I have to practice yearning. I must be able to speak what I need, and at the very least I must be able to hear it. I would also like learn to act on it. I don't believe happiness is a permanent state. I believe I must be open to happiness, and I am. I also know now I have to imagine it, to envision it. I can't just be happy with whatever happens, which is my tendency; it's what I have taught myself to do. I want my yearning to have weight and strength, and I want that weight to be balance of imagination and purpose. I will have to stretch. I will learn to reach for it. |
I have missed you. I'm surprised that you have Asperger's. You seem to have such a capacity for intimacy, for relationship, which is usually not present there. But, I guess, part of the reason you can write about such things with so much more clarity and eloquence than the rest of us is that you've had to explore their workings much more carefully. And I, for one, am so grateful that you have done that, that you do that, because it helps me, too. I guess I'm "turned on" by your issues ;) I am turned on, really, by the way you look at yourself and the world as honestly and as compassionately as you can.
I think empathy is often enhanced by early struggles. What was it Frank McCourt wrote in Angela's Ashes? "The happy childhood is hardly worth remembering," Something like that.
I'm happy to see you this morning, my friend.
Posted by: Susie | April 23, 2007 at 07:53 AM
I'm so happy to see you, too, Susie!
My Asperger's is not severe, but it's there. I was surprised too, until I thought about all of the parts of me I could never really explain. There were years I couldn't look people in the eye. I outgrew that when I was a teenager, at some point I decided to just act like someone else when I felt afraid and it worked. Not until M did I ever learn to feel comfortable hugging and touching, and only because it is such a part of who he is.
Asperger's was a piece of my puzzle I didn't have before so I am grateful for knowing about it. And like you wrote, I'm ok with having issues. I guess I feel like we all have them, just different combinations. I'm a lot more comfortable in my life and happier now that I have learned about my issues. Some of them have even been resolved. I had to smile about that thing I read about unresolved issues being a turn off because - how do you know if an issue is from childhood or not? Is it only true that you have unresolved childhood issues if you mention the word childhood? heh heh.
So, I'm back! And I feel fortunate to have any readers left after being gone so long, and especially thrilled to see you this morning.
I'm going to send you an email now. :)
Posted by: sheryl | April 23, 2007 at 09:04 AM
I was afraid and unable to yearn for many years of my life. I had no idea what I wanted, what truly made me happy. I also felt that yearning for something, wanting something made me weak. Weakness equaled vulnerability and being vulnerable was out of the question.
Issues are issues. To me they aren't a turn off, a turn on or anything else. They just...are. Most of us have them, to some level or another. It's funny that you mentioned self-indulgence. I've been feeling that way about therapy here lately. I'm just sick to death of talking about myself week after week. Time for a break, I suppose.
The Asperger Syndrome discovery is interesting. Of course, I don't know you "in real life" but I can infer many things from reading your writings and even more from viewing your photos. You are gifted and you see the world in a different way, a beautiful way.
I hope that this piece of knowledge about yourself is helpful to you in so many ways. I admire your candor and your uncanny ability to speak your truth. Thank you, as always, for just being you.
It's good to see you back, my dear.
Posted by: Lisa | April 23, 2007 at 10:56 AM
Thank you, Lisa! Good to be back. :)
What you say about vulnerability is so true. Or at least it was true for me too. I have thought some about needs/wants, and there are some things I want to write about that here.
I think therapy might be one of those things I will revisit on and off as needed. I've taken a couple of years off and now I think I may be ready to return. In fact, I was thinking of starting a new category on this blog called "Things I learned in therapy".
Posted by: sheryl | April 23, 2007 at 11:49 AM
It's got to be reassuring to find answers, for things to start making sense. I don't know much about Asperger's -- a friend's teenage daughter has it -- but it sounds like you have incredible adaptive skills.
Hugs to you!
Posted by: mrtl | April 23, 2007 at 12:04 PM
Hey Sheryl!
I'm so glad you found a missing piece to the puzzle. And I was completely surprised to read about it. It's all so complicated, isn't it? For you are one of the most insightful and eloquent artists I've ever come across.
Posted by: Carol | April 24, 2007 at 02:00 PM
oops - i guess it doesn't matter about my last name? : )
Posted by: Carol | April 24, 2007 at 02:02 PM
First of all, I love your new collage. It reminds me of hearts, and the colors are definitely that warm feeling I associate with love, which is really.... I'm not sure. Nice isn't the word... comforting is close though... happy is another that comes close.
Anyway, I had wondered about your Aspberger's diagnosis. You mentioned it somewhere in passing and I was wondering what the symptoms/behaviors are that are typical. You said it so briefly, I'd thought that I must have missed a more detailed description and it embarassed me for missing something so important and hence I didn't ask you about it any further. But regardless of all of that, I want to say that I'm glad that hearing that you have a syndrome is helping you, and not harming you. Some people really freeze up when they hear a diagnosis of some sort and let it prevent them from being a certain way. I'm not sure that I'm being clear about this. I guess for an example, if you'd learned about it as a child and learned that one of the symptoms is difficulty in touching others, you might have gotten that aspect stuck in your consciousness and never been able to reach out to M. and touch him/take comfort from touching instead of feeling anxiety or other feelings that would block you. So, I think it is good, perhaps, that you didn't know until recently. Do you think so? It is certainly enlightening to have the puzzle pieces fit into place about yourself. I personally, like understanding why I tend to react a certain way in certain situations. Because once I understand it, I can try to be aware of it, and change the way I behave. Which is all good, I think.
I love your way of seeing. I'm so glad that you are in my life and I get to share that with you.
I send you good wishes across the miles (no hugs, unless you are comfortable with one),
Danielle
Posted by: Danielle | April 26, 2007 at 10:09 AM