Autism Answer: Shoes - an Invention.

 

 

My shoes by a tree

Like a slightly cool tickle on my skin, that's how the early morning breeze felt. Summer's second half in Quebec offers the mornings I missed so deeply when living in Texas. 

 

Wearing a t-shirt and shorts I stood on our driveway, facing out toward the river across the street. I am not a particularly visual person, but it is a wonderful view. I focused on the feeling of my hands wrapped around my mug of coffee. It is a little warm, but more than that it conjures up an image of myself as a woman. In my youth I pictured a woman in nature, sipping coffee and contemplating the world slowly, as the iconic woman. The woman to aim toward becoming. By focusing on my hands, I was that woman. 

 

Next, I stepped my bare feet off of our concrete driveway and slipped them onto the grass of our lawn. 

 

The first thing I felt was the coolness, quickly followed by wet. The dew is delightful and refreshing on my feet. It feels like camping. 

 

The pleasure I take in each sensation is remarkable; you might think I don't do this most mornings. But I do. The pleasure does not fade. 

 

The thoughts that tumble through my mind are rarely brilliant, sensational, or earth shattering. But they are lovely. 

 

Informed by the environment and the sensations, my delight in the feeling of feet on cool wet grass this morning led me to think about shoes as an invention. 

 

As I moved around on the grass, under the maple tree and then away from it, sipping my lukewarm coffee and being that iconic woman, I imagined people ever so long ago moving about in bare feet and knowing no other way. Their feet would have been different from mine, and the sensations would have been different as well. There is something healthy about bare feet. But they also would have gotten deep cuts that lead to infections. They would have been unable to inhabit certain spaces or move as quickly in them. They would have been frostbitten. Their bare feet would have been much stronger than mine, but still bare. As foot coverings were invented they would have been celebrated, I'm guessing, by many. Also, I imagine, they would have been scoffed at. The feeling might have been weird and unyielding, and the disconnect from the earth might have felt unfamiliar and awkward. But the perks of protecting feet are very real. Life saving. And the ability to more easily go where we once struggled to go is always appealing. 

 

And then from simply covering our feet to creating shoes. I imagined two long ago cavemen as I moved from the grass back to the concrete pavers of our driveway where I enjoyed the rough texture and tiny runaway rocks - the grit - under my feet. I imagined these men discussing, with invisible to me communication, the invention of these shoes. 

 

One was adamantly against it. They made us less connected to the earth, they made our feet too soft and sensitive, they made people move into places on the planet not meant for us where we proceeded to beat it into submission, to renovate it for our own purposes. This would not be good, he communicated with grunts and motions and invisible understandings, for the way of life. 

 

His companion was declaring the ridiculousness of resisting progress. Nay, the cruelty of it. These shoes save lives. Not only by protecting feet but also by granting them the ability to move farther, beyond previous limits. Imagine the food they could forage! The food they could hunt! We had not been granted such thick paws or hooves like other animals, but we can make them. Make something better even.

 

As I imagined, I moved around again. Back I went to our lawn, bare feet on wet grass, the grass relieving me of the tiny pebbles that were sticking to the skin of my soles. The morning was beginning to pick up and a few cars passed by. There is a small road, as well as a bike path, between our lawn and the river. I like it. 

 

I sipped my coffee and imagined those cavemen recognizing that they were both right. I moved back under the maple tree to step up onto the wooden bench placed beneath it, granting me a neat feeling of being a little taller (standing on a bench) and also a little hidden (in the leaves of the maple tree). 

 

I imagined them sitting on boulders and wearing traditional caveman garb (I've seen the Flintstones so I know the style of the times.) while continuing to debate the various issues of their topic. Shoes. 

 

My bare feet were planted firmly on the bench, the skin of my legs and arms pleasantly tickled by the breeze, the sound of the leaves dancing in the tree above me, rustling, invited my lips to curl upward as I closed my eyes and tuned in. How I adore that sound! 

 

I imagined these cavemen knowing that shoes were not a bad invention, they did not disagree on that, but they could not agree on what was more important - limiting certain things or forging forcefully forward. 

 

As I stood on that bench in my bare feet, loving the option to walk this way in our grass, I noticed the cars becoming a little more frequent. I tried to sip my coffee and noticed there was no more to sip. I recognized it was time to head indoors and drive my step-daughter to her bus stop. 

 

Whispering a quiet imaginary goodby to my imaginary caveman friends I made my way into our large home with a pool, a solarium, five bathrooms (one ever so fancily outside by the pool), and climbed comfortably with my step-daughter into our 2016 SUV where she paused her tik toks (but did not remove her Bluetooth headphones) in order to chit chat with me while we drove through the light traffic, past a plethora of homes in a variety of sizes and styles, careful not to hit the many squirrels that like to fritter from tree to tree despite any roads between them, to her bus terminus. This I did happily and comfortably. 

 

But guess what?

 

I chose not to wear any shoes. 

 

Hugs, smiles, and love!!!

Tsara Shelton (X.com)

Autism Answer: Even When We Walk Away, We Participate

 

It is a wonderful practice to unplug and walk away from media influences.

 

Yet, even when we choose to unplug and rejuvenate without the direct influence of television, social media, or tabloids, we are still incapable of not being affected. The people we speak to, the properties we live in, the land we play on, the work we do, the money we spend, the food we eat - the list of ways we are forced to participate in artificially created systems bigger than ourselves is practically endless, and always evolving. 

 

I think this does not mean we must then spend our time on the inside. 

 

In my experience the more time I spend unplugged and away from the focused news, information, and opinions, the better I am at actually digesting and considering them. Of thinking bigger than only them. 

 

Also, though, I do like to spend some time being informed. I think I am more thoughtful when I learn from these things that attempt to persuade me. 

 

I go through the world as only me, with my looks, abilities, finances, sensory sensitivities, etc. So, I rely on the writing and speaking of others to better consider and to learn more. 

 

It's nice to walk away and unplug. To be without direct arguments, opinions, or even information. To simply allow myself to conjure the information that grows naturally from myself. But I cannot pretend it is information grown only from myself. It is always informed by the flora and fauna of my environment. 

 

I can largely choose my environment, even help create it, but I cannot coerce or deny it. 

Hugs, smiles, and love!!

Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook)

 

 

My boot on the ground in nature

 

Autism Answer: In My Opinion, We Don't Always Need an Opinion

 

Looking up through the leaves

The rustling of leaves in the trees, a breeze caressing my skin in unpredictable intervals, birdsongs dancing through the sky-waves, smells of flowers and soil intermingling and reminding me to breath deep, this is a sensation I love.

 

This is a place I go where I don't judge myself, where I don't feel judged, where I am not surrounded by opinions and I feel no need to form one of my own.

 

Alone:

I disappear when I am inside nature. I feel myself melt away and be consumed, become an element or an ingredient, a component of something so spectacular I cannot feel anything but wonderful. I am not ugly and fat, in nature. I am not stupid or a burden, in nature. I am not in debt or unable, in nature. My ideas are not bad for society, or brilliant and necessary, in nature. Simply, I am not and nature is.

 

With Children:

When I was raising my children I found nature similarly wonderful, but I did not disappear. I had a role, I was mom. But in nature, unlike how I felt in town among other moms and children, I could see my children more clearly. Without the mess of feelings and worries and expectations I felt when in a more social setting; nature cleared the air for me. I could see them, see their behaviours, notice their uniqueness without fear of how it was being received or judged. I could simply see. And in that place I was more comfortable guiding them while I learned. I could see them clearly and so I could better see where they were in need of learning. There is freedom in the wild, but that does not mean allowing only wildness. Many mothers in nature teach their children ways to behave. But without the need to conform them in order to fit in and, rather, with a need to give them skills to help them thrive.

 

Alone:

In nature I become more. Yes, I disappear. But I disappear into everything. My sounds and smells, the feature of me, is equal to the sensations around me.

 

With Children:

Their sounds and smells, the feature of them, is equal to the sensations around them. They are not being asked to conform or play by the rules. In nature the rules are be what you are until you no longer are. If what you are works well, you might last longer and pass on your genes. If not, okay.

 

I want to exist comfortably in society. More than that, I want the children I love to find ways to exist comfortably in society. But not without caring about our nature.

 

It is a worthy pursuit, finding ways to fit in. Practising politeness in your culture and gaining the skills to participate in the games people play.

 

But one of those games, I've noticed, is having strong opinions about everything going on in the world.

 

Having an opinion about everything and everyone, ourselves and the people in the world - online, particularly - becomes exhausting. It becomes unhealthy and unkind.

 

In nature, things are sometimes trending, but there is no need to form an opinion. It simply is what there is more of at the moment. That's how nature works (when we allow it to work). (We are encouraged to make certain judgments, of course, since many things in nature will hurt or kill you.) (Also, growing an opinion is fantastic, fine, and fun when encouraged to blossom naturally, without a need to make it sound smart, or match a movement, or instigate a reaction.)

 

Spending time alone in nature helps me practice loving the world without needing to have an opinion.

 

Spending time with children in nature helps me practice having an opinion while loving people in the world.

 

In my opinion, I like my opinion.

Hugs, smiles, and love!!

Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook)

Autism Answer: A Life Lesson About Being A Little Bit Stinky

Multitasking: Dancing, making coffee, sniffing armpit.

It doesn't feel good to be overly stinky. I don't really like it.

When stinky body odor first started to happen to me I happily reached for the grown-up feeling deodorant. Yes, at first I often forgot and would catch myself sweating with embarrassment around my peers. But soon, with motivation easily found - I was a teenager wanting to be discovered in certain ways by all the boys - it became a simple habit. Deodorant donned every morning without thought.

Many years later I began to pay closer attention to the buzzing and whispers I heard about the unhealthy ingredients in most deodorants. I wasn't anywhere near willing to quit it, but I heard myself explaining it to my sons and when buying them deodorants I would suggest minimal use.

Yes, I tried chemical free deodorants a bit. No, they didn't work for me. Although, I still sometimes used them.

A few years later I learned more about motivations, money, and health. Applying those learning's to deodorant I couldn't help but feel complicit and cruel. Where is the motivation for companies to create effective healthy deodorants that will help keep our entire society healthier (including my sons!) if consumers are easily buying the toxic stuff already available? The toxic buildup from deodorant is actually, really, truly affecting me and my family. It's not just a thing to say and know; it's a thing that's happening.

So, I went searching in earnest for sustainable, healthy, fair-trade type deodorants. I started sometimes making my own.

This is what I learned:
Sometimes I stink a little. And that's okay. Most of the time I either smell fine thanks to a natural substance that I'm using and my healthy diet, or because that day I just happen to smell fine. Sometimes I even use good-ol-fashioned-not-good-for-me deodorant. There are events I go to (school concerts) where I decide to be certain of not stinking at all.

But sometimes, I stink a little. And that's okay. Seriously, what's so horrible about stinking a little? It's just my smell, my naturally occurring smell. Now, I don't think it's awesome to be absolutely stinky. That's often (though certainly not always) a sign of something unhealthy going on - stress, lack of self-care, poor butt-wiping skills, etc - but stinking a little bit some of the time is what I am. A living animal with scents and sounds and chin hair.

Here's my life lesson: 
Too often we cover up the truth of things with fancy smells regardless of the harm we're doing. If something doesn't stink, it's not so much offending us. But, that's proven itself to be a dangerous attitude! Sometimes the beautiful true nature of a thing will surprise, challenge, and even slightly offend us. Not because it's offensive but because we've been taught to be offended. And other times we avoid helping ourselves and others by dousing them in nice poisonous artificial smells. This is, again, our way of not being offended by something. But this time, maybe we should be offended. And we should do the work of making changes.

So, to sum up, covering ourselves and our issues in fancy smells regardless of who we may be hurting in the process is an all too socially accepted habit. One we might want to discontinue.

Also, when you and I meet for coffee, you might notice that I'm a little bit stinky. Lucky you! What a wonderful excuse to deeply inhale the delightful smell of your gorgeous scented beverage!! tee hee!

Happy Friday, friends!!

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

Autism Answer: Light My Fire

"Look it up on YouTube," mom suggested, tossing another useless match onto the pile of kindling. 

While my youngest sons grabbed their phones and searched "How do you light a match without the striker" I laughed at myself for having been so overly confident about this skill to begin with. In my own defense, who wouldn't assume that they - a competent grownup - could certainly find a way to light a match, even if it wasn't a "strike anywhere" match, and even if you were without a striker? I suppose I should have gotten a clue when the young State Park employee had been so apologetic about offering me only the matches. But I was a bit busy acting overly confident to compensate for the ridiculous camping mistake of arriving without matches to begin with. I'm not a newbie camper, so I knew better. But it had been a long time since my last camping trip, so I forgot what I knew.

So here we were, watching YouTube videos and trying tricks that weren't working for us; our first morning at the campsite and we were without a fire for coffee. Not okay!

"I'll head over to that RV over there and see if they won't mind lending us a lighter," I offered. Sure, it's been a while since I've gone camping but that doesn't mean I don't remember that one of the greatest joys is meeting new people. So, borrowing a lighter could be a conversation starter as well as a fire starter! (These are the things I tell myself as I justify my forgetfulness. In truth, I'm not much of a conversationalist before my morning coffee. tee hee!)

Well it turns out Jan and Gary, our neighboring campsite couple, were volunteering at the state park. And Jan was more than happy to lend me a lighter. Indeed, she was so friendly and open that even without coffee coursing through my veins we chatted. I learned that she and her husband were living in the RV, and were able to stay onsite free of charge by volunteering as Camp Hosts in the park. Well, I'll be!

"What a brilliant way to live! You know, I have plans to live in my car when all of my sons have moved out," I told her, peeking over at our campsite to see my family still struggling to start a fire. "I'll keep that in mind, volunteering at State Parks in order to have a place to stay. These are the sorts of things I haven't really worked out yet."

"Oh, ya," she added, "I was living in a tiny house when I met my husband. Now that we're retired we're living in our home on wheels. We registered our cars in South Dakota, we have our PO Box there, too...."

"Wait! So, you figured that stuff out too?!" I was amazed! So far all I had done was imagine myself and my computer driving or sleeping or writing in my car, and then showing up at different family members homes for coffee and chat time. Oh, and showers!

Jan told me quite a bit more about how to turn the dream into a reality, adding that she has a blog, Tiny House Times, where she shares a bit about the journey she and her husband are on. Not only that, but she offered me a pamphlet from Your Best Address in South Dakota that had all the info I needed to live on the road while keeping a legitimate address. (My mom, my brothers, my boys and I had lived in an RV for a year, traveling the country and loving life, but we thought we'd have to "finagle" paperwork and legitimacy if we were to live on the road much longer.)

I learned all this, and I still hadn't had coffee!!

I thanked Jan for the lighter and again for the info, truly appreciating her unique ability to let me see what my future could be. I gotta say, it looks kind and happy. And absolutely possible!

With a bounce in my step, one that is generally reserved for after my morning coffee, I excitedly joined my family, borrowed lighter in hand.

While my boys built the fire and my mom prepared the coffee for perking, I told them about Jan and Gary. As we waited for the coffee to darken deliciously I imagined my future again. Living in my car, writing my stories, visiting my family. But now it felt entirely possible and not even overly weird. Lots of people do it! Lots of people live on the road!

Later on that same day I took a quick trip to the nearest store, breathing in the Vermont views and fresh air while imagining my future. My sons pointed out vista and gazed off into themselves in awe, talking about their own futures as well. We knew, this trip was changing us. Well, no. Bringing us more to ourselves. Giving us to us.

We grabbed some simple foods and my son bought himself some Vermont maple syrup. 

And I made sure to pick up a few packages of matches.

Back at the campsite we built a fire, this time using our own tools. 

I soon headed back to the Camp Host site and chatted a bit more with Jan. Gary was there too, so I had the pleasure of meeting and chatting with him a bit as well. I could feel the pull of my family though, wanting to spend as much time as possible with them in this nourishing environment. So I returned the lighter and I thanked her. 

As evening fell and I walked back to my mom, my brother, and my sons, I silently thanked Jan for lighting my fire. Now, though, it was in my hands.

Now, I would light my own fire.

Hugs, smiles, and love!!! 

Autism Answers with Tsara Shelton (Facebook)

A view in Vermont.

Autism Answer: Nature's Feedback

"When I spend time in nature there is nothing telling me I can be more beautiful, more successful, more intelligent, more appropriate, more relevant. I just am." ~Me 

Everywhere we look, everywhere we listen, there are billboards, commercials, literature, and story topics telling us "Seven Tips For Being Better At This" and "Ten Ways To Look More Beautiful Like That" and "Become More Successful By Doing These Things" or "Be Like These Smart Famous People With These Five Changes" or "Know Your Worth With This Trending New Thing" and "Find Happiness By Doing This." So, everywhere we look, everywhere we listen, we're being told we can be better, it's assumed we want to be better, we're told what better is. 

There are many ways I've learned to mostly quiet the noise and, instead, know that I am better and that I am successful and that I am continuing to grow ever more so as I live my life with love, purpose, and an open mind.

But nothing is quite as quick and healing for me as nature. The entire sensory experience reminds me that I am enough. That I am no more and no less relevant or successful or beautiful or appropriate than I need to be. My habits and quirks fit just fine. My looks are equally uninteresting and perfect. I breath, experience, and contribute to the surroundings successfully. It's quite simple, really. I am there and I am alive and I am thoughtful. My intelligence isn't questioned. The trees, the birds, the snakes, the spiders, the weeds, the seeds and fruits don't ask me to explain. My mind wanders and I know enough; am smart enough. If a trick of nature captures me unaware and I am hurt of killed it is not a waste, I am not a waste. I remain part of the story. Beautiful enough, successful enough, relevant, and intelligent. 

I don't expect nature to do all of this for everyone, of course. But I do hope with all of my heart that everyone has a place where they get all of this. For me it's nature (and dancing). For you, perhaps, it's building or cooking. Singing or golf. 

But if you don't have something or somewhere that consistently gives you this feeling, this "you are absolutely completely perfectly more than enough" feeling, then I encourage you to find it. 

For me it's nature and dancing. 

Feel free to try starting there! 

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

NOTE: I invite you to enjoy this video where I sit in one of my favorite sneaky outdoor spots (a surprisingly wild area just behind my home) and tell a story/poem. The story itself is a tribute to both nature and stories. Hugs, smiles, and love!!!

 

Autism Answer: Earth Day

 

Me hanging out behind our home.

I've always been attracted to nature. 

I've always desired deeply to work and learn with her, rather than control or ignore her. And with that deep desire I've made choices. 

Choices that change as I discover new truths or observe hidden relationships to my choices. 

But I do not have (much) guilt over the choices I made that hurt nature when I was unaware, because I know I was most often willing and interested in becoming aware. I know I was most often eager to learn and make changes. 

Often, but not always.

It's the choices I made against nature when I knew better, or was able to know better but chose to look away, that I feel guilt over.

The choices I made to not seem "weird" and, even more often, for convenience. The times I turned away from learning or knowing in order to keep doing things the seemingly easy way. Or to not stand out as a nutty tree hugger or unusual (which, for too many, means possibly unfit) mom. Those choices. 

To me "nature" isn't just outside, she isn't just the earth and her gardens. She's the natural inclination and needs of everything and everyone organic. She's freedom and life.

I try my best to be consistent in my respect and love of her, but I make mistakes. 

I'm happy to notice, however, that the more confident I get, the more willing I am to be authentically me no matter how nutty I may seem, the less mistakes I make out of convenience or fear! Now, when I make a mistake, it's mostly nature herself reminding me who I am.

This Earth Day let's all take a moment to change one habit, examine and realize one mistake we're making that hurts nature. Our own nature, our spouses nature, our child's nature, Mother Nature. If we all change one habit, admit to and tell others about one mistake, we can't help but change the world in a beautiful way! 

I believe it really is that simple, friends.
I believe we really are that powerful!

Happy Earth Day!!!!

"I am only one; but still I am one. I cannot do everything; but still I can do something; and because I cannot do everything, I will not refuse to do the something that I can do." ~Edward Hale

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

Laying under my favorite tree with my hemp purse and a perfect book.

Autism Answer: My Wild Garden

I've always loved wild nature. 

I've always loved the feel and look of wild forests and plains and mountains and deserts. 

Also, for the last few years (maybe, seven?) I've been interested in having a garden, in growing food. Yet though I've been noting and knowing the incredible value of freshly grown foods, I hadn't even tried to start a garden. 

Lately, the last three years or so, I've been considering my procrastination. Why? I wonder. The first thing I always tell myself is it's my lack of green thumb, and this has truth. I've often tried to keep plants around my home and have rarely had success. They don't last long, I'm sorry to admit! But I can tell when I've discovered my deeper reason for things, and my lack of green thumb was not it. That's more of an excuse and a bit of a fear (it's not fun to learn something in public and have people see my lack of ability). But I'm not one to avoid something I truly want due to these reasons for any real length of time. Anyway, I could feel there was something deeper. 

A few weeks ago, I figured it out! My issue was that deep love of wild I mentioned. That deep belief in being part of and encouraging a wild nature. That wild child in me was uninterested in growing a neatly manicured and labeled, albeit gorgeous and nourishing, garden.

Realizing that my love of wild was refusing to back down or be put aside I listened closer. There was more than mere refusal to be caged in my wild resistance, there was reason. There was a suspicion. 

The suspicion that one of society's big problems, thinking we have a right to control and take over the nature of things, may have started innocently with the beginning of agriculture. As I let my thoughts run wild I realized that for my life to be lived consistently, a well plotted garden with rows of things and refusals of pests and yanking of weeds didn't match who I believe I am. After all, aren't I the mom who allowed her sons to be wildly themselves? Despite the rules and polite expectations of schools and waiting rooms, didn't I teach my sons to be true to themselves while respecting that others had a right to be true to them? 

Aren't I the sister who felt uncomfortable and confused with herself only because she wanted brothers who fit in? Who were convenient? Who stayed in rows of other children their ages? Didn't I learn, thanks to mom and the trust of my brothers, that my unhappiness was an insidious growth planted by others, telling me how my brothers were supposed to be if they were to be considered successful? And didn't we all grow happier, smarter, kinder, and more skilled when we instead let ourselves be who we were, despite inconvenience and the challenge of discovery? Didn't we learn that wild gardening included an encouraging of self and a thoughtful pruning that could not be planned for but was instead to be forever an adventure of purpose balanced with curious interest and open minds? 

Yes! I am that girl! I have grown in the garden of a family who is wild. And it's my nature to adore and encourage and find joy in that.

So, armed with this understanding and a heart filled with excitement, I've begun my garden.

Behind our home is a fairly large area of wild land. I save seeds from our foods and I go back there to plant them in the wild. I've even bought seeds at the store and planted them. Sure, buying seeds might sound less "wild" but anyone who spent time with my brothers (not bought, but adopted) knows some of the most wonderfully wild additions to a garden are purposely chosen and carried to far away lands by a unique force of nature. And with their addition something unpredictably new can grow! I've started to learn what will grow naturally where, and what I can do to help it. Some seeds need to be planted in specific ways and others in specific places. Timing is important. Sometimes I'll even deny one growth to encourage another, but always with love for the wholeness of my small wild garden. 

Like with my children, I don't intend to stand back and never meddle. I, too, am part of the garden! I hope to become a valuable part of the growth that is comfortable there. I'll make mistakes, but like with parenting I know that my role is not to be perfect, but to be flexible and always learning. I also know that my role is to allow the garden to do its own growing so that I can see its wild nature and encourage it, rather than think myself too much the decider of things. 

I don't know how many years it will be before my backyard wild garden and I have matured together, but I can say with confidence that we are already offering each other nourishment. Oh, and the delightful smell of digging in the dirt! The grittiness of soil embedded in my fingers and under my nails. I feel almost like a child!

I'm so happy, friends!!! 
I am an active part of a wild garden! 

(Maybe, unlike my sons, this one won't leave me to pursue dreams of film making in California. tee hee!)

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

 

Me in the wild garden!

*Random Addition: Please know that I don't think a well plotted, well weeded, carefully labeled garden isn't awesome. I believe that anyone who takes the time to grow their own food or their own flowers and trees is doing something healthy and beautiful! It's of great value! The world we live in today is one where food cannot be foraged and wild growth is believed to be "owned" by somebody. I find this terrifically unfortunate. But we are where we are, and a garden, pretty much any garden, should be applauded. Indeed, gardens can be grown as a form of protest and revolution! My wild garden is a reflection of me, not a judgement of others. ~Tsara

Autism Answer: This Wind Up Pocket Watch

Beautiful and created by people, this wind up pocket watch. Created by beautifully creative people. It tells time, it ticks and it tocks, it is a delicate collection of springs, cogs, and other moving parts that work together to keep track of time, an invention of ours. It's "this o'clock" and "that many minutes," it tells us. 

How valuable to enjoy and create and discuss such inventions of ours!! 

And at the same time how silly to let them enslave us. Our creations and inventions and ideas of success. Our technology and rules and ideas of value. 

This wind up pocket watch does not decide when my child should move out or when my husband should finish fixing the floor in our kitchen. This wind up pocket watch isn't interested in how many ticks or tocks it takes for my brother to speak clearly or for me to finish writing my novel. This wind up pocket watch is a beautiful invention, and it helps us make plans - but it doesn't decide or dictate. 

We are a beautifully creative species! We like to invent technology, rules, systems, labels, races, and recipes. Too often, however, we forget that those things are inventions of the moment. Necessarily needing to be re-imagined and set aside. 

My son bought himself this wind up pocket watch because he loves the way it sounds, the way it looks, the way it feels, its independence from batteries, and because he likes to imagine that it's a time machine. Not once has it been the boss of him or a tool for telling him when to be somewhere or how much more time he has to finish a thing. Admittedly, though, he could use a little of that. My son lives almost entirely in his head and some scheduling could do him good. 

Which, of course, is why we so beautifully create these things to begin with!! There is a gorgeous balance to be had. A place where our inventions and rules are always known for what they are and a comfortable connection is kept with the reason we create them. A place where we set aside inventions and rules when they harm even a small number of us or our planet. 

A place where we fully know that our creations are a way to connect with each other, expressions of the soul, and tools for survival, easily set aside when they no longer give us these gifts. 

There is a gorgeous balance to be had, and we are fully capable of insisting on it!

I think it's time. 

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

Autism Answer: Nature and Parenting; Tend and Love

Nature and parenting. 

I tend and love learning similar lessons from both. 

I have a habit of pointing out the value of encouraging growth that embraces the bigger picture rather than the "look at me right now and be impressed" model. Gardens that are encouraged rather than forced, people who find their own style rather than one they use to impress--this is what I celebrate most.

The gardening we do with an eye on future gardens, the folks who tend them, and the world it's meant to enhance, is equally as beautiful (to me, it's more beautiful) as the one we primp and preen to wow now. 

I love encouraging and guiding the natural plants that want to grow around me just as I love encouraging and guiding the natural personalities and passions of my children. They often don't match the landscape, sometimes one will take over for a while, and there are times when I don't like the smell of them, but always I know there will be shifts and changes and that I am playing an important role by allowing and guiding and learning to know what and why some of the plants/passions grow. 

Wild growth encourages us to adventure and discover new things. Collaborative gardening, planting and growing with an understanding of what we want and what the earth wants, encourages us to be flexible and thoughtful with our wants. 

These are beautiful examples of playing a role and taking action while keeping an eye on the inherent, important, innate value of what wants to grow and why.

Nature and parenting. 

I tend and love learning similar lessons from both. 

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

I was walking with my boys in town. We took a moment to explore this patch of wilderness.

 

Autism Answer: Hiking in the Woods

Life keeps changing and we continue to find new paths.
 
Hiking in the woods alone has always been one of my favorite activities. 

At a resort in East Texas

Hiking in the woods with my sons when they were tiny, noisy, and adventurous, daring each other and themselves to do bigger and more dangerous things, was also an activity I enjoyed; though it was rarely relaxing!

Hiking in the woods with Shay now, my seventeen year old son with an imagination so wild it compliments the overgrown forest, while the overgrown forest returns the favor by enhancing his imagination, is one of my favorite activities indeed!

Hiking in the woods has shifted and grown different for me through the years. When one path is lost to me, another will be carved out or surprisingly discovered. 

Sometimes I have to find the new joy intentionally, temped a little bit to consider the fun gone once a path has been lost to me. Once creeping vines or noisy children have changed the effect and experience entirely. But with a shift in attitude and a trust in unknown and new kinds of fun to discover, I always find myself once again hiking in the woods.


Once again, discovering new joys, new life, and new survival techniques!

Hiking in the woods with Shay

As it turns out, hiking in the woods is always a delight!! With a flexible nature and the desire to bring newness to old joys, hiking in the woods is a forever delight!

Right now, hiking in the woods with Shay is the path I'm on.
And it's awesome!!!

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

Autism Answer: The Flower Project

My youngest son turned in his flower project today. For decades every ninth grader in our small town (even my best friend remembers this from her own ninth grade here) has had to turn in The Flower Project. 

The Flower Project: Explore and discover and pick and press sixty different Texas wildflowers. Record the date you picked the flower and put it in a photo album along with a tag naming it. This is for a huge portion of the last semester's Biology grade. 

I've helped three of my four sons with The Flower Project. My oldest son moved to California at the beginning of ninth grade so he didn't have the project. I'll admit, I was happy about that. It's a challenging project! Sixty different flowers is a lot of flowers! 

And yet, I'll grudgingly admit, my boys and I have learned a few things while working on The Flower Project. 

First, holy moley Texas has a lot of gorgeous wildflowers! I mean.... seriously!! 

Second, when you come across a large grouping of yellow flowers that look the same-- take a closer look. True, many of them are the same, but there are groupings of different yellow flowers as well. Now, look closer. There are tiny red ones and itty bitty fluffy purple ones! Oh, my! Look even closer.... see that orange speck? See that it has petals? It's another flower! Although it's true that you've found a group of mostly the same yellow flower, if you take time to peek and prod you'll see that within it are other friends. Many similar in appearance and others not at all the same! And now....

Third, move onto another grouping of flowers. These ones are blue and seem to want to take over an entire field. But, wait! What do we see here? All kinds of completely new flowers--white, orange, yellow, and pink--that didn't even exist only two miles away in the yellow flower patch! Once again we are treated to an entirely new neighborhood of flowers living together. Oops! Don't disturb that bee! And ... yikes!! We just saw a copperhead snake! It would seem that our neighborhood of flowers live in collaboration with creatures that sort of scare us. That's okay because we can accept the danger of the copperhead and appreciate it's important existence while we step nervously back, heading toward the relative safety of the country road. 

Fourth, while we walk in nature and listen to its sounds, while we take in its scents and breathe in its freshness, we waken and excite new sides to ourselves and our children. Sometimes the new side is silent. Sometimes it's vocal. Sometimes it hums and moves with more confidence, and sometimes it pulls forth a quieter grace. Always, it's nice to know this part of ourselves for a bit. 

Fifth, when we think we've found all of the flowers we possibly can, though it's nowhere near sixty different kinds, we look again a few weeks later. Oh my! It's all different now! Some of our yellow and red flowered friends are still here, and some have gone away, but now we are greeted with brand new purple and pink and orange and white flowers! And now we also remember to be careful so we don't disturb the copperheads. They live there too, and they can kill us. Though they have better things to do and we'd like to leave them to it. We're seasoned explorers now and have communicated an understanding with our dangerous new friends. We didn't write up a contract exactly, or talk to each other with words, but we communicated our needs and have an unspoken agreement. We don't intend to hurt each other.

Sixth, although the work of pressing and labeling and learning about each flower seems tedious, it's also interesting. We learn a bit about when we can go find that elusive red flower we've been looking for, and where we'll most likely find it. We feel surprised to learn that it's the tedious work that can often bring enlightenment to us as flower finders, but also to others who haven't had time to find flowers. To people who are not in the business of doing The Flower Project. Without the labeling and pressing and studying, we would have little to show them. There is suddenly value in taking the time to do the tedious work. Because, we want to share what we know. 

Seventh, like the flowers we've found we are more beautiful and interesting when we surround ourselves with diversity. We blossom at times and let our friends blossom at other times and always we are all equally part of the same connected thing. The Community. The World. The Universe.

Eighth, even though I've been part of The Flower Project for a few years now I still don't know or remember or care what the names of the flowers are. It's enough for me to see and know and learn that there are so many different kinds and colors. But some people (including one of my sons) love to know the names and habits of the individual flower families. And in this way, we are different and good for each other. I'm nourished and he is nourished and we're all nourished in different ways. 

Much like the flowers we're studying. 

My youngest son handed in his flower project today, and it's the last one we'll do. I'm mostly relieved. It's a lot of work and worth a huge chunk of the biology grade. It's nice to have it over with! 

But, also, we've gotten a lot of lovely things from The Flower Project. 

And so, though I'm glad to never do it again, I'm also glad to know that ninth graders will continue with this lovely tradition. 

Thanks in part to The Flower Project, for the rest of my life I will take time to peek at and appreciate and learn from the flowers!

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

I found these folks hanging around our yard. I guess they like it here!