Autism Answer: Chandelier

 "I'm gonna swing from the chandelier, the chandelier..."

 

She's so inside it. Serenity, my two year old granddaughter, is so inside the song. She loves the way she feels inside the song, swinging herself around the room. She sings the lyrics as she understands them, she smiles and twirls, looks down at her little legs poking out from under her shirt - scratch that, under her sister's shirt. The one she's borrowed that is a bit long on her and feels pretty as she looks down and spins. She spins again and the song continues to play from my phone which I have strategically placed on the windowsill. There is a bouncing of sound from that spot, a trick that gives us more than we're actually getting. 

 

"I'm gonna live like tomorrow doesn't exist, like it doesn't exist..."

 

My oldest granddaughter dances and sings, too. Nevaeh, big sister, little lady, speaker of opinions. She sings and dances with me. My heart is swelling while I'm dancing with my oldest granddaughter but Serenity, my younger granddaughter, is alone in this world. I recognize that place. The song has swept her away and she's flying. 

 

"I'm gonna fly like a bird through the night, feel my tears as they dry..."

 

I can hardly hold onto my heart as it wants to fly with her, alongside her, forever be with her. Serenity swoops down low and then brings herself up, fills her lungs with air and sings out: "I'm gonna swing from the chandelier..."

 

But, suddenly, a crash. A smacking of toes into the wall, cut by the vent. Where was this? Where did this come from? We were flying, we were everywhere and filled with such joy when BAM! 

 

I swoop down, Nevaeh runs over to her little sister, Serenity is crying crying crying out. She's bleeding and hurt. It isn't going to require medical attention but it needs attending to. And now, drastically, the song sounds obnoxious. Cruel, even. Holding my sweet granddaughter in my arms, her sister cooing, "It's okay 'renity, shhhh, we're here. It's okay." I reach up to the windowsill and silent the vehicle of this pain.

 

"One, two, three, one, two, three..." pause.

 

I think about this as we stop dancing and start finding distractions from her pain: I think about how much joy she was immersed in, how filled up with fantastic feeling Serenity appeared to be and how, had she been more present, less letting herself be taken away into the place she had been taken away to, she may have been more careful. She may not have gotten hurt. And we would still be dancing away, silly and safe in the bedroom. 

 

Yet it is in that place, that allowing of abandon I saw on her, where I feel my most free, my most connected to the world, my most awesome. Do I want to say, "Be a little more careful, sweet Serenity. Don't let yourself get so carried away,"? Or do I want to say, "It's okay, little love of mine, you will feel better soon. And the joy of letting yourself be so free is worth the bumps and bruises,"?

 

I think about this and I know both answers are right. I know I want my grandchildren to throw caution to the wind with courage, kindness, and curiosity; I also know I want them to think things through and choose carefully, with eyes open. 

 

I want Serenity to sing her heart out while moving to the music, untethered by distractions inherent in paying attention to the world around her. But I also want her to watch her toes. Her sweet little feet matter to me more than I can express, even understand. 

 

The song, Chandelier, sings to us from a woman "just holding on for tonight, on for tonight," and claiming she's "gonna live like tomorrow doesn't exist, like it doesn't exist."

 

But I want Serenity to succumb to abandon because tomorrow does exist, because flying like a bird through the night can bring a feeling of connection and awesomeness and perspective and joy that is not easily felt or celebrated in everyday activities. 

 

So, I think about this. 

 

About Serenity's song and the joy it brought her, a joy that was entirely felt because she let go of looking at the world around her in order to fall into the feeling, how then she was - necessarily - unprepared for the edges that hadn't disappeared. 

 

When we decide to be brave, to follow our heart, to step into a life we are called to but have no experience with, to be swept up in emotion, it makes sense to be careful. When I dance, for example, I move furniture, I wear my knee brace, I choose a fairly safe environment. But then, I dance and disappear and close my eyes. 

 

When I've done what I can think of to set myself up for success, I let go. Invite abandon in. 

 

That's what I want to tell Serenity.

Set yourself free.

 

When you swing from the chandelier hold on, for more than only tonight, and if you fall there are so many of us who will be here to attend to your wounds. 

 

As Nevaeh sweetly said, "It's okay 'renity. We're here. It's okay." 

 

Hugs, smiles, and love!

Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook) 

 

If you want to check out the song that brought Serenity such joy, here ya go: https://youtu.be/2vjPBrBU-TM Just, please, watch your toes. :D 

 

Autism Answer: When the Song Ends

 

My oldest son

"As my body moves inside the song, as the lyrics push my hips in uncontrolled urgency, as my arms reach outward into space then pull that space tighter to my sweating, swerving, swinging body - a body that is mine but not mine; given over to the song, a song with words of pain and crescendos of desperate loneliness and need - I close my eyes tighter, pushing the darkness in all directions and joining it with my energy. I invite the loneliness and pain to pull me apart, I push my arms out, I sing along and swing, sweat, sing. I know this song and it is near the end so I scream the lyrics louder, move myself farther in and out with the melody, ride the wave of emotion to it's very last drop. The song ends. I'm spent. My eyes open and the world is still here, I am still here, the cat is looking at me funny. If my memory serves, there are still dishes in the sink. Also, my knee hurts a little. But I feel fantastic. I've been here in this room, dancing, but also gone, disappeared into the pain and loneliness of the song, experienced it with every bit of body and energy I could muster, and it was intoxicating. What story will the next song bring? What feelings will I fall into and fill up now?"

 

I feel so much when I'm dancing. And though I love all kinds of songs, it's the ones about pain, particularity about self-loathing or self-destruction, that force my feelings around the room with the greatest amount of emotion. I freaking love dancing to those songs. They don't bring me down in any way but, instead, bring me something more. I'm not sure what it is, exactly. Maybe I feel less alone, maybe I feel grateful to not live in that place of self-loathing while still able to recognize it and remember most of us will experience it and that's okay. Maybe I just like pushing on a bruise. I don't know what it is but I do know I feel happy, I feel joy, I feel connected to everything and everyone after a stint of dancing, especially to those songs. 

 

Those songs tell a story that I would argue is not a nice story, not a positive story, not a sweet story. But they are raw and real, they say things that are hard to say in ways that are both personal and universal. It's powerful poetry where I can recognize parts of myself or loved ones and feel not so awful about the awful stuff. Because it is something in a song, I can dance it out, I can sing along to lyrics that depict someone else's version of our similar awful feelings and we're not alone. 

 

I am a true deep absolute believer in being intentional and careful with the stories we tell. (I'm an annoying person to watch, read, or listen to stories with because I have strong opinions on the power of stories and my passion pushes those opinions out in words more often than not.) But I don't believe we should tell only good stories, or only stories that have a happy spin. 

 

I think we do our healthiest storytelling when we care about using our words to add something meaningful or thought provoking or unexpected. When we tell stories, to ourselves or others, in order to explore, consider, reconsider. 

 

And I think we do our healthiest audiencing when we care about how we are affected. When we choose the stories we read, watch, or dance to carefully. When we pay attention to where we pay attention and how it moves us. If songs of hurt and self-loathing only steep you in feelings of hurt and self-loathing, don't choose them. And if they bring you joy don't let the fact that it's strange for them to bring you joy stop you from feeling the joy. It is, however, a good idea to consider why they bring you joy. 

 

Which brings me back to my dancing. I'm not sure why I love those songs, but I think it has something to do with having a place for those feelings. A place I can feel them without continuing to feel them after the song ends. 

 

That's the thing about stories. They bring us somewhere, tell us things, give us new perspectives and ideas, then - they end. 

 

But they also don't end, because they're part of our memory. 

 

And we are left to live with their influence.

 

We are still here, the cat looking at us funny, when the song ends. 

 

Hugs, smiles, and love!

Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook)

Autism Answer: About Last Night

Declyn

I made myself a peppermint tea (shhh! don't tell coffee) in my favorite to-go mug, kissed my exhausted hard working hubby on the cheek, and headed out the door.

I decided to pick up Declyn's farther away friend first. Declyn's theatre class was putting on their first annual talent show and I was picking up two of his friends to bring to the event.

I was sipping and singing and enjoying the short drive deep into the green trees. As is always the case when headed out to this boy's home, I saw critters and majestic mammals. The early evening was beautiful. I felt happy and open.

My son's friend was waiting for me when I arrived and thanked me as he climbed into the car. I let him know it was my pleasure to gather an audience for the show. I love showing off the theatre kids!

As we headed back toward town to pick up friend number two, we chatted.

ME: You're a senior also, right? Are you excited to graduate? Do have mixed feelings about the transition?

FRIEND: I'm excited. I've never really had friends. I'm kind of an outsider or an outcast.

ME: Well, you've got your group now. The boys spend every weekend at your house till 3AM almost without fail!

FRIEND: Ya, that's now. I've moved a lot and always tried to get a group together to play D&D (Dungeons and Dragons). Finally, I have this group.

ME: *Giggling* Well, you found yourself a great group of outsiders here!

FRIEND: Ya, they're all that way. Declyn is funny, too. He has the look and talents of the popular kids, you know? And he does mostly fit in with them but he's an outsider, too. Because he has almost everything they do except, well, he's not an asshole. Oh, sorry for the language!

ME: No problem! You just told me my son is not an asshole. You don't have to be too careful with your language to tell me that. I'll take it presented however you want to present it!

FRIEND: That makes sense. I was wondering, why do you write about autism? I heard you say to someone that you sometimes write about autism.

ME: Well, I have a lot of autistic family members and I've learned a lot about life and listening and actually truly caring about our differences because of it. And since I love to write, it's one of the things I write about.

FRIEND: That's neat. Hey, autism isn't a bad thing though, right? From my limited understanding it's kind of a serious focus on things that make them smarter and know more about it.

ME: I believe you're referring to the interests or perseverations. And you're right, autism isn't a bad thing but it does mean certain things are harder. And the interests you're talking about can mean a lot of different things in different people. Some interests are really hard to use well, and tend to interrupt an ability to follow conversation in common ways. Or even, sometimes, just to be happy. For some folks it's not too intense, for others it's really disruptive and hard. In my family there are so many styles and I've learned to see the similarities while noticing the vast differences.

FRIEND: Declyn said he used to have autism.

ME: Ya, he's lucky that my mom is who she is! She helped us work on his sensory issues and eye contact challenges in such fun and kind ways. And he doesn't seem to have autism anymore. The social challenges were the longest lasting, I think. No, sensory too.

FRIEND: I have a strong memory of a time I made a mean joke around one of my other friends who had autism, before I knew he had autism.

ME: Oh, boy. Kiddo. we all have those. Maybe not specific to autism, but the times we were mean.

FRIEND: Well. We were playing D&D and I made a joke about a choice someone made. I was like, "What, is your character autistic?" And then my friend was like, "You know, that's not a nice joke. Did you know that I'm autistic?" And - my brother has it on video actually - I just sat there. Stone-faced. I didn't know what to say!

ME: Ya, we've all made comments or jokes that are accidentally cruel. I think it's a willingness to listen to people and their reasons when they point it out that helps us grow thoughtful. But we don't know what we don't know, so it's bound to happen to all of us. Particularly when we're young.

FRIEND: Well, I had noticed that my friend had weird habits and, I don't know, was just kind of strange I guess? But we all kind of were, like I said, I'm an outcast. But I'd noticed it on him more. So I probably should have known better.

ME: Seriously, don't beat yourself up. I made similar mistakes all the time and my brothers were autitstic so I had every opportuntiy to know better. It's good to remember, but don't feel overly guilty, you know?

We pulled up to the next friend's house. This friend has been Declyn's best friend since pre-K. As he came up to my car wearing his usual wide almost goofy grin, I felt a moment of pure happiness. Almost as though the car-ride conversation was being given a comfortable closer.

This friend of Declyn's had been pulled out of school to be homeschooled. Largely because of his outcast ways. He and Declyn were being bullied by their Christian peers for their intense interest in Greek mythology and the Greek Gods. Declyn struggled for a few months, but told me he wanted to stay in school. We dealt with it that way, knowing that we were working with the goal of staying. His friend, on the other hand, worked on it with a different goal. And so he worked on it with his mom and they chose leaving.

They both were supported by parents and went the direction of their goals. It's a beautiful thing!

But last night his friend came back to the school - and it was his eighteenth birthday! - to watch his friend, my son, dance on stage in a talent show, senior scholarship fundraiser. And at the end of the night, my son took the mic and sang happy birthday to his friend.

My son drove his outsider friends home, with me - his mom, who has always felt on the edges of society - in the passenger seat.

I think we have all felt like outsiders or outcasts at times. And for many of us an inkling of that is just right. After all, we are all alone and only ourselves and "outside" to some degree. But for many of us, we are even farther outside, it's harder to find our groups or to connect.

But it happens. And when it does, it's a beautiful thing to watch!

Much like how watching my son dance is a beautiful thing to watch.

Oh, what's that? You'd like to see for yourself. Well, I thought you'd never ask! (Errrr.... you did want to ask but I wouldn't stop talking? Sorry about that! tee hee!)

Here's that dance you waited patiently through my story for! 

Happy Friday, friends!!
Outcasts, popular kids, and everyone in-between!! 

Hugs, smiles, and love!!

Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook)

BTW: The video straightens out after the first few seconds.

Autism Answer: Celebrating Angst and Telling Stories

Our lives are created and experienced and understood through story. 

When we're young we accept and play with and interpret the stories told to us. As we grow up we try our hand and telling and imagining and living our own stories. 

In the meantime we never quit enjoying and learning from the stories of others. We listen - some of us better than others! - and read and watch and debate the meaning and value of these stories. 

Somehow, though, our culture has mostly forgotten to place the power of story on top. We think of it more as entertainment or silliness or only important after we've paid the bills and worked hard. 

I cry bull corn! 
I say no way!

We become our stories. We are our stories. We live and imagine and remember our stories. 

We have the ability, joy, and power to tell and live our stories for ourselves and in our way. But you've heard me say that once or twice (or a gazillion) times before. 

What I want to talk about, for a moment, is the value and fun and importance of respecting all aspects of story. The joy, brilliance, strength, and love alongside the pain, violence, rejection, and anger.  

"We exist to feel and so we crave every aspect of story," The Hitchhiker in my screenplay argues. And I agree. Indeed, that's why I wrote my screenplay! So he/I could argue that!

I often celebrate darker more dangerous emotions. I dive in and really feel them, imagine them, learn from them, desire them even. Yet my life is a consistently beautiful happy story and I'm a chronically happy person. 

I had a friend who sang in a cover band. Before a show he would ask me what songs I wanted him to sing and, without fail, I would intensely and excitedly list off my dark favorites. Sober by Tool, Tyler by Toadies, The Water's Edge by Seven Mary Three. Songs that explore anger and self loathing and violence. Songs that, every time without fail he would say, didn't match me.

"But they do!" I would insist, getting hyped up and thrilled at a night of dancing ahead of me. "How else do you think I live so happily all the time? If I didn't celebrate those feelings in these places, dancing, reading, writing, I would invite them more often into my other reality. That's no fun! So, I honor them in the songs you're gonna sing. Let's go!"

He would laugh lovingly at me and remind me that I wasn't exactly "normal" so he'd sing my songs at the beginning of the night, when the audience wasn't yet drunk and riled up, and save happy songs for later in the evening, when the folks needed to be brought up and reminded of happiness. 

That made sense! Besides, I love happy songs too!

We all make a million choices, small and big, in our lives that take us in a million different directions. All of the stories we tell and live now are in place of a million others we could have lived. This is a fun thing to think about, and sometimes I wonder about the me I might have been who is less happy. The me who didn't listen when my mom taught me to think for myself and tell my own stories and value everyone. The me who didn't have kids. The me who ran away with that abusive boyfriend. The stories I chose not to live but still wonder about. 

As you know, friends, when I tell stories of my family life and share moments from my daily doings I'm not afraid to reveal terrific and often scary truths, but I also almost always spin it in ways that reveal answers and beauty. 

However, I find other places to be equally revealing if less happy-ish. Celebrating pure joy is gorgeous! But so, too, is celebrating pure angst. "We exist to feel." And so I celebrate feeling. 

And it's always revealing. 

Yesterday I decided to participate in Chuck Wendig's Flash Fiction Challenge, to write a five sentence story. An entire story in only five sentences.

So, with five sentences I explored the life of a homeless me, afraid of authority and confused about freedom. 

In five sentences I made up a story from a familiar me I almost was. A me I chose not to be. I remember her, and I love her.

 

I chatted quietly and sweetly in the back of the police cruiser, smiling and giggling and apologizing and nervously covering up my deep fear, taking action by putting my sweetness and youth on display.

I’d never been arrested before and I never imagined that I could be; I was a sweet girl who was afraid of authority so I rarely broke rules, other than ones of necessity.

By the time I was locked up with the others I had reassured myself that I didn’t belong, that I could at least enjoy a night with a roof over my head until this mess was cleaned up and my obvious goodness was clear and understood. Avoiding eye contact with the large black woman pooping on the toilet four feet from my mismatched sneakers I promised myself that I would be extra good and do exactly what I was told.

Then I would be free.

I do not believe that obeying rules and being good and nice means I've earned freedom, not anymore. I now believe that freedom is something I have an absolute right to and that the rules tend to take my freedom away. That doesn't mean I don't think there should ever be rules, that means I think we should always know them as taking away a freedom for a purpose that we're deeming worthy. And we should always consider whether, indeed, it is worthy. 

But writing that story and tapping into that place, where I was scared and certain that my freedom was something I should prove I deserved, gave me feelings. "We exist to feel." And I did. 

Please remember the value and power of your stories! Please be purposeful and curious, be willing to hurt and feel joy. Celebrate all of the feelings but find a safe place to explore the ones that tempt you to be hateful or angry or scared or uncertain of your value. 

For me, that safe place is on the dance floor or singing my face off in my car. It's in the books I read, some of the movies I watch (I have to be careful with those, some are healthy for me and some are dangerous) and the stories I write. 

Don't deny your less than pretty feelings and don't justify, don't dress them up as something they aren't (are you hearing me Trump supporters?) but rather celebrate them in a safe space and encourage yourself to consider their meaning. Your feelings are for you and shouldn't be shoved on others, but you can share and consider and explore and explain and tweak and edit them, as a group. 

My happiness and joy doesn't grow from a life of only happy stories. It grows from a life of diverse stories that honor it all. A life of balance and choice.

"We exist to feel and so we crave every aspect of story." 

I couldn't have said it better myself!
tee hee!

Hugs, smiles, and love!!
Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook) 

Autism Answer: Fall In Love With Someone New #BrainBroadLoveHabits

I wrote this in February's edition of The Loop: 

I fall in love just a little, ol' little bit, every day with someone new." ~Hozier

Love and Habits

Love is lovely, friends!

 

I have a fun exercise for us in this episode of The Loop; homework, if you will. (The kind of homework I think schools would do well to consider!) Let's teach ourselves a delightful love habit by falling in love, daily! I encourage us to choose ourselves first. Today. Now! Fall in love with yourself! Let the way your hair falls tickle your tummy, see your quirks as adorable, hear your ideas and swoon.  Do this everyday with someone new. Your spouse, your child, the lady on the corner asking for money, the guy who sells you your lottery ticket. Fall in love! Giggle at their jokes, put extra energy into your banter, try to make the conversations last. Have a crush on humanity with us this February!

 

I invite you to share your experiences and new loves on Lynette's Brain Broad Facebook page: Lynette Louise aka The Brain Broad, tweet or email thoughts and pictures to mom4evermore@juno.com with the subject line/hashtag: #BrainBroadLoveHabits

 

Have fun falling in love!

I've been loving the responses! Check out posts to The Brain Broad's page to get a peek at some, click on the hashtag #BrainBroadLoveHabits on Twitter, and I invite you to participate as well!! You can post a picture, a story, a link to a story... whatever works for you! Or, just enjoy the posts of others and fall in love with them. That counts!!!

Here's one of mine: 

 

Me having a crush on myself.
I like the way I comfortably hang out in my pajamas and read great books, often, without feeling guilty about taking delicious down time. I think that's pretty cool and crush-worthy of me!
#BrainBroadLoveHabits

And another one: 

Yesterday I went to the post office with Shay and we discovered a yellow slip, indicating a package was waiting. Could it have finally arrived, we wondered. Shay gave me a hopeful smile and we headed to the counter.

Upon seeing me the kind folks who distribute all of our mail, our bills, loan approvals, pizza coupons, and online ordered packages, gave a knowing grin and disappeared into the back of the building, returning with a small brown cushioned envelope.

"Well, your music's here," said the lady happily handing me my Seven Mary Three CD.

As I clapped and jumped and excitedly thanked her, I saw the others standing back watching me get the music I ordered a week ago, smiling odd knowing grins my way. I'd been coming in everyday, hopeful with anticipation, describing the dance room my husband built for me and telling them how much freedom and joy I experienced in there, diminishing slightly only when I find myself needing new music. Which I had ordered and was waiting for.
I think they think I'm strange, but none of us mind that at all!!

I fell in love with my local post office yesterday.
And then I danced my ass off in my dance room!!! ‪#‎BrainBroadLoveHabits‬

And one more to show the diversity and simplicity of possibilities: 

I got a call last night from a telemarketer. I had no interest in his product but I took some time to have interest in him. We chatted for five minutes, long enough to explore ideas but not so long that he'd lose too much work time. We laughed a little, considered his future parenting prospects for a bit, and he suggested a title to the book he'd like me to write: A Canadian in Texas. I had a crush on humanity, and a telemarketer, last night! #BrainBroadLoveHabits 
____________________

These are some fun examples of the true moments "falling in love a little bit with someone new" has offered me. There are more examples from others (see Rachel Clark's consistent and lovely posts on The Brain Broad's Facebook page!!!!) and I invite you to live out and share some examples as well!!

For inspiration, here's Hozier singing the song that inspired this idea! 

Happy falling in love, friends!!
Hugs, smiles, and love!!
Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook)
 

Autism Answer: Dancing in Dallas

These feet were made for dancing!!!

I just danced my butt of to the jazzy sounds of a band playing fabulously on the streets of downtown Dallas, TX. There was a medium sized crowd gather to watch but I was the only one dancing at the time. At first some people stared uncomfortably at me but once they felt certain I was just a harmless weird dancing lady, they got back to the business of tuning into the band.

I closed my eyes then, imagined I was alone, and rocked out a little harder. I was there by myself--no kids to embarrass--and so I really disappeared, felt the music, and let my body do its thing. I gave it complete freedom.

This is one of the gifts living with a wacky, weird, socially strange, and uniquely wonderful family has given me. I can comfortably be myself regardless (mostly) of strangers staring and people likely judging. And this, my fabulous friends, is a great gift indeed!!

Just as I was about to tip toe away, coming out of my trance, a kind gentleman with a recording device in his hand walked up to me and said, "That was great! By the way, we're live streaming this. I hope you don't mind."

I laughed! "If you're live streaming it's too late to mind! No problem. Thanks for letting me know."

I walked away thinking that the Universe just stepped it up a notch. Now I have to be comfortable being myself in the place I am, but also possibly live streamed around the world and recorded for folks on the internet to find, forever!

Okay world. Bring it on!! I'm me, I'm weird, I'm dancing, and I'm happy! Live stream that!

But, boy-oh-boy, I'll have to rethink the "no kids around to embarrass thing" won't I? tee hee!

Hugs, smiles, and love!!!
Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook) 

__________________________________________________

*For more fun (and more important!) thoughts on this new reality of live streaming and YouTube videos please tune into this episode of the popular podcast A NEW SPIN ON AUTISM: ANSWERS! with host Lynette Louise aka The Brain Broad titled Living Out Loud aka Cameras: Are they Good for You?

Or, for a giggle, watch my son and I make a silly music video!