Mr. Cellophane

In the musical Chicago the husband of the murderess-on-trial sings a song called "Mr. Cellophane", the man that everybody looks through but never sees. A cellophane man, whom everyone looks right through as if he wasn't there. As a mature "Aspy", I appreciate the sentiment.

When you run your own business, you've got to be rather blunt with yourself about your up and down sides vis a vis the business at hand. Mine is a people business, where the clients MUST be able to relax with me to allow me to do that which I so definitely can do for them but only if allowed to by that client at that moment. It's a "permission" thing. To show your heart and soul to a stranger is difficult for most of us at any time. But as a portrait photographer ... I'm not only a "stranger" to the clients at a first session, I'm pointing a camera at them while asking them to show me their heart!
 
The portrait biz is based on three things: 1) the technical knowledge of your medium (camera, brush, whatever ...), 2) the knowledge of art concepts that have been deeply absorbed into the back-waters of your brain, and 3) the ability to get the right, most appropriate and most fascinating expression/pose from your client in that narrow moment that your abilities in parts one and two above have created. One and two must simply flow from the artist as nearly as possible without conscious effort, in order to allow both the artist and subject to concentrate on three.

The third one flows from the relationship in that moment between the subject and the artist, and the willingness of the subject to bare their heart and soul. "Permission to look deeply into the soul", as it's been called so many times by so many people ... that's an incredibly personal thing to ask of someone. It calls for an amazing level of trust. It's not easy for anyone to do. It even has taken a lot of work for me to trust another photographer, no matter how well I know them. I appreciate the ... hesitation ... concern ... fears ... of any client.

And as someone on that Aspergers/Autism "spectrum", it can be difficult for me to achieve that level of trust with someone who doesn't know me well. Yet I've managed it so many times, with wondrous images as the result. And there have been many times that I've been able to create worthwhile images that the client does enjoy, but based on my mastery of parts one and two above, and the agility with which I've learned to work around the occasional difficulties with part three.

After all, I am a professional at this, not an amateur. I will get at least several darn good images. Period.

But Aspy/NT rules do apply. I know, that for my friends with (for example) boats ... when they think up who they want to spend a day with out on their boat, I'm not gonna be on the top of the list. Not because they don't like to be around me in other circumstances ... but ... I'm just not gonna be the one they think of for light casual fun. And, even when I've done amazing portraits with a client, they won't automatically think of wanting to use my services for their next portrait need either.

It's not because my friends or clients dislike me, or don't appreciate my skills and abilities. The problem is not negative personal connotations. It's not even a conscious choice on their part. It's in the nature of my being Aspy and their being N/T. That odd intermingling of brain capabilities and natures between N/T's and Aspys.

I'm good enough at my relations with most Neuro-typicals (N/T's, or "normal" people) that I've managed to become a "neutral" presence emotionally. Neither warm-fuzzy nor rasty nasty. It's taken years of hard work, but at least, far fewer find me the mildly irritant presence than used to do so.

But as a "neutral" presence, I'm neither on the list of folks they really really want to spend time with or the list of people they want to avoid. I'm not going to make any list at all with most people. Essentially, it's like Amos (heart-breakingly played by John C. Reilly in the movie) singing about being Mr. Cellophane.

I've been "in the biz" for nearing 40 years now. Time was, a photographer sold his/her value based on their experience, demonstration of photographic excellence through both images and professional awards, and the surety of running a solid, reliable business. That's not this time. Years of experience are not of interest to most potential clients. "Everybody" seems to be able to have pretty pics on their website, whether or not they can do that repeatedly or without needing  500 "shots" per client to get two or three decent ones. And realistically, "good enough" is a LOT lower bar than it used to be.

And as to experience ... do you realize how few people actually think about whether a portrait photographer even KNOWS how to run a business these days? That is certainly not a "decisionable" factor for most potential clients.

In these days, in this time ... it's all about how people feel about the photographer. Or, if they've not worked with her/him before, how they think they'll feel about working with him/her based on websites, social media, and comments by others that may have some experience with that photographer ... or may simply have looked at a website once. Of a different photographer.

For an Aspy portraitist, it's a really, really difficult time to make a living. When you're good enough in personal relations with most N/T's to become a neutral presence (rather than an irritant) you're doing well as an Aspy, yet you've disappeared as a person. Quite an interesting challenge to overcome.

Cellophane,  Mister ... Cellophane ...

The Invisible Wall

In the Star Trek "multiverse", there's a material called "transparent aluminum". It's a metallic substance used as sheets to build things ... and it's as transparent as good-quality glass. Strength per  thickness of material a little above steel, weight far below, and of course ... transparent. So it's used for things like spaceship view-ports and "windows" and panoramic windows on space stations. Even (in ST-IV, "The Voyage Home") used to make an aquarium on a Klingon "Bird of Prey" starship to time-transport full-sized humpback whales to the future, in easily the funniest ST-Multiverse movie. (Look up "multiverse" if you need to ... )

I'm very familiar with the stuff ... "transparent aluminum", that is. It surrounds me. It's always there. It's that brain hard-wiring that I as an Aspy (Asperger's person) have that separates me forever from the ways "normals" (in physcho-speak, "Neuro-Typicals") think, speak, and react to others around them. Even, really, from most other Aspy's too. I "touch" (and therefore see) that wall so very clearly, having ALWAYS been on the outside of things. And over the last few years, having learned what (and a lot of why) those differences are, I even know the nature of the wall. And why it is permanent.

 Those on the other side don't see the wall at all. It's very transparency (from their side) convinces them that it doesn't, that it cannot exist. To them, it's not that there is a wall: I just don't behave as they expect, I say things they aren't expecting, or that are simply incomprehensible. The attitude and the belief on the other side of the wall is that there's no "real" differences between us, the problem is that I just don't behave like I "should". It's my ... fault? I need to just behave "more appropriately". I don't know how many times I've been told "We ALL have to learn how to behave ... you're no different, just watch and learn! You're plenty bright enough to do this ... everybody does!" The sometimes unspoken (but always present) thought is "unless you're a stupid insensitive dolt like you".

My most well-meaning friends and family have constantly told me the above, normally without rancor. And um ... others ... have told me the above with great malice aforethought. I appreciate the polite concerns expressed by friends, but in the end ... the communication is the same. But my brain is different, so the conclusion that so many "NT's" insist on, that I could learn to be like them, is fallacious. Not that it helps me at all ... going around telling people they are believing and acting on a fallacious premise is not the way to win friends and influence people. If there's a 'way out', I haven't found it yet. Neither attempting to correct the NT's appreciation of my differences nor simply allowing them to think ill of me has any positive effect. Except in rare instances.

So I remind myself that the ignorance here is not mine ... it's their's. Their hard-wiring "sees" things and inter-relates them in ways mine doesn't. In ways mine cannot. No matter how hard I try. I can work (and have) at understanding the many and constantly-varying patterns of NT  conversations. Theoretically. But lacking the hard-wiring to even notice so many of the small but vitally important signs they pass back and forth, I can't participate as an NT in a real-live conversation. I can't "pass".

But there's a lot more of them than of "us".  And really, most other Aspy's drive me nuts just the way we all do to NT's.  So it's their world, and it's "them" I want desperately to get along with. To be friends with. To communicate with. To have real, deep friends with, and to feel like somehow, someway, I belong in the wider world as a recognized, real, and valuable person.

But as an Aspy in an NT world, the best I can do is to try and be less "obvious", less "obnoxious", less "self-centered" ... less me. And as I cannot possible predict how different NT's are going to react to anything I say, the most assured way to be less Aspy is just to be quiet. To say very little. I fail at this all quite a bit of the time. And when I do, there's always the signs of failure ... the grimaces, the side-ways glances, the closed or rolled eyes, so many things that are so obvious even I can see them, that I've screwed up again. Ah yes, just hammered into The Wall again ... and it hurts every time.

Many of my Aspy/Spectrum peers are to a larger extent than I unaware of the reactions of NT peers. They may notice them, but aren't necessarily noticing it as constantly as I do. And John Elder Robison, Temple Grandin, and many others have said they wouldn't trade their special abilities for being an NT anyway ... they so love their gifts they'll take them and the pain of separation from the rest of humanity. My "gift" so relies on my being accepted by others to be of any use that the very unacceptability of my Aspy-ness seems to keep me from using my gift for anything but a child's toy.

The very "dry" professions where I perhaps could have found "usefulness" hold no emotional attraction for me. It's a very odd thing ... I'm too tightly-focused brainy-dweebish for the general population, and too emotional for the encyclopedic life. That's me alright ... and at times I laugh, at times I cry ... and I hug my one still-at-home kid or my wonderful (but sigh ... very NT wife) wife and we always just go on. It's what humans do, all of us ...

The Collaborative Shut-Out

A Major-League baseball team had an intriguing game recently ... a collaborative no-hitter (or "shut-out"). Something like five or six different pitchers were involved for their team, ranging from a few innings to a couple batters faced, yet none allowed a hit by a batter of the other team. It was a new record for how many pitchers collaborated to make a no-hitter. It may have been a record as a collaborative event in baseball, but ... it's nothing new or unusual for Neuro-Typical conversations.

Friend and fellow "free-range Aspergian" Bryan made a comment a few posts back that for Neuro-Typicals (NT's for now?), conversations are essentially a collaborative process, rather than each person actually trying to communicate their thoughts individually. That conversations aren't composed of individuals sharing their own thoughts with the group so much as a "thought-process" being shared by the group.

Fragmental thoughts shared and combined as a collaborative thought process ... that is as NT as you can get. I think that is especially the form that general time-killing/filling conversations take among NT's. Someone starts things off saying "X" ... which may be either a complete "classical" sentence or two, or perhaps just a clause of a sentence, a fragment of a thought. Someone else will say some other little bit that in some way seems to them have something to do with the first thought-fragment; then another makes a similar fragmental comment but ... spun to something a bit different. Then someone else makes a comment that somehow takes off from the last fragment (but to what seems for us Aspy's a completely different subject matter), and the process repeats itself. Over and over.

As close to "normal" as I appear to most people, this sort of discussion is a LANDMINE waiting to explode around me (and all other Aspy's) any moment. It's based heavily on that shared data-flow of eye/vocal/facial/body/breath inflections that NT's gather without needing to think about, and which shapes their concepts of "what" the conversation is about each moment. 

Remember the explanation above ... the part where I noted the spins and take-offs to what seems a different subject matter? Think about any "general" conversation you are part of. The subject matter of the words does jump around a lot ... but yet in reality to the NT's, the conversation apparently continues without such a jump. All the NT's there seem to understand the links between the "apparent" jumps, or at least, understand that this shift in word-subject is simply part of continuing the same conversational pattern of the group. It is the pattern of  the conversation that is really the main shared communication. This group collaborative-talking process.

We Spectrumites may see some of the 'connecting' pieces between the fragments, and we may say something that feels a 'fit' to the other NT folks there. But no matter how hard we study NT's in real-life, in real-time we will miss probably 80% or more of the full information the rest of the group gets from each comment/commenter.There is no way we can track such complicated thought processes based on data we don't even "see". We're going to say something ... wrong.

I've studied such conversational patterns for many years now. I've had them analyzed and detailed for me by close friends and delightedly blunt enemies. For most of my life, the explanations have been given by people assuming that if I had half a brain and was actually concerned enough about other people and not so self-centered, I'd learn it ... quickly. And that the only reason for not gaining the understanding they were trying to teach to me was if I did not really want to learn how to get along with others. If I was ... selfish. Self-centered. A boor. Thoughtless. A pig.

After one is told this so many times, well, it must be true, right? John Elder Robison talks of how he heard the same comment so many times as a child, from SO many people (from school counselors and teachers to family members and strangers), that it must be true. However odd it seemed to him, they couldn't ALL be wrong. He was clearly a self-centered psychopath/ax-murder-in-waiting! He actually felt he should study which kind of prison he should "aim" for when he finally became what they all saw in him. Not because he felt any urge or inclination to become an ax-murderer/psychopath, but simply because EVERYONE around him couldn't be wrong, could they? (By the way, Federal prisons are better.)

Well ... they were wrong. John wasn't a self-centered psychopath in any way shape or form. His brain was just wired differently, so his interactions appeared differently and were misinterpreted by those around him. Seriously misinterpreted. But my corollary of the last post still applies: this is a two-way smash-up in progress. They misinterpreted him, just as he misinterpreted them.

And just as I and those around me do. And those wonderful little conversational jumps that aren't really jumps? I haven't a clue how they work to NT's. An NT says one set of words that (to me) completely changes the "apparent" subject matter of a flowing conversation ... but it isn't a change to the conversational pattern. Yet any slight change in "apparent" subject matter that I might provide is quite possibly going to be seen as a rude and dismissive commandeering of the group's conversation. With the other folks shaking their heads at how thoughtless I am.

I can't get it, and I certainly can't "win" at conversation either, though I've gotten better at fighting it to a draw or at least a stand-still. Participation is Hell on wheels, and staying aloof and "outside" is not much better. I know that if I say anything, eventually (and sooner rather than later) I will insult or anger someone or multiple someone's. Or at the least, I will be taken as thoughtless, boorish, self-centered, egotistical, and rude. If I don't say anything, eventually I will come across as either disinterested in others, ridiculously shy, or lacking in proper social graces by refusing to engage with others in "proper" social interactions. A self-centered boor by a different means.

But life is a participation sport, just like baseball. It's a "purist" sport, however. No designated conversationalists or relief-talkers allowed ... but oh well, many consider the designated hitter an apostasy even in baseball.

Verbally Blind

Although it may seem that the last few posts are discussing mostly the problems I have being understood by others, it's really a completely equal two-way smashup. True, I can't get a lot of "content" through in any attempt at detailed discussion. But the corollary ... is that I miss SO much of the "intended" communications of those around me that they send to me. I just can't "grok" the meanings they want to get into my head anymore than they seem able to "grok" mine.

And it's dastardly ... bizarre. You see, it isn't that I (or most other high-functioning Aspergians) don't get, for example,  satiric or ironic comments ... because I and "we" ... use them and enjoy such things. I/we understand most jokes and forms of humor, and both respond to and employ these things in ways so close to the Neruro-Typical or "Enty" way of doing it that we tend to do pretty well (at least most of the time!) within these forms of the obviously different-from-dictionary word usage. These "altered meaning" practices tend to be pretty obviously ... altered. We're cool with that.

Where we Spectrumites fall on our faces is in the rather normal, mundane and "straight-forward" discussions that make up the majority of human interaction. The ones everyone is presumed able to understand. The "face value" comments and statements, that it turns out ... aren't nearly as "face value" as they supposedly are.

Or perhaps, that's really the problem ... for the Enty population,  face is valuable. It's nearly everything. Remember those paragraphs explaining how Enty's take all that sensorial data in along with the words? In their brains, it's all inter-connected and the words only "mean" what the totality of data says they mean. In our brains, out on our spectrum, it isn't. Oh, really ANGRY faces we see ... and really any "something" faces. We do see them. Though even then, as we note internally that the person is in whatever emotional state they are showing, we only see it as a side-detail to the conversation. The words are still the words, right?

No ... the words aren't just the words. They never ... or rarely ... are. And it's in the most subtle facial/vocal/breath/body/eye-corner details, in the more "bland" or straight-forward-seeming sentences and comments ... that those other details matter far more than the words. That those other details give the intended meaning to the words. So often completely at digression from a straight literal dictionary translation of the words stated, if done word-by-word.

I, and others on the spectrum, can neither "see" nor interpret those very important data bits any more than a blind person can tell you how many posters are stuck to the wall by just looking at the wall. In both cases, the wiring simply isn't there. Even knowing this is the process, there's no way I can guess either. I don't see (in literal reality) those subtle shifts at the corners of the eyes. And if I do see them, I've no way to understand how to interpret them, from the thousands of meanings they could have.

I'm damn near "verbally blind", as are most of my "ilk". And that's a right uncomfortable thing to be.

Autism/Aspergers versus "Normal" Communication

In tested mental capabilities, I'm HEAVILY geared for analysis/synthesis, and that capability comes with a ton of native "horsepower". Which naturally means I look at things around me, analyze, re-think, and envision alternate ways of doing anything. That's me. That's how I see the world every minute. I analyze, I pull things apart in my head, and see if there's another way to put them back together that might be better for at least some purpose than the way things are now. And truthfully, there are always ways to improve things.

But I'm not a tin-pot dictator in some third-world country with the self-awarded title of "Colonel", wearing a cute quasi-military uniform I designed for myself. And no, I don't even have those darling aviator "shades". So I can't order anyone to follow my ideas and threaten them with torture for failing to understand me. Not even within my own business. I have to use words to illustrate and define my ideas, and make my thoughts understandable to and for those who must then help plan the implementation and carry out my ideas and goals.

I was an English Lit major in college, and compared to my peers in the department, writing was a strength. But as an adult, even though interpersonal communication seems like something I should be able to do in my sleep, it has been so often a botch-job that I learned to dread meetings. Not that my efforts always seem so "botched" by others, but that so rarely does any real depth of my intent get across the Great Divide.

As part of my continuing studies of the Autism/Aspergers spectrum, I have learned to understand some of the communications differences between those of us who are "Spectrumites" (my newly-minted term) to those who are "Neuro-typical", or "N/T's" (let's call them "En-Ty's", for short). And yes, there is a sort of code-book situation going on. A horrifying one from the vantage point of those of us on the spectrum.

In verbal conversations, most "En-Ty" brains absorb the words they hear as only part of the context of the situation they hear them in. That context is a very complex compendium of their own sensory perceptions of the face, body, breath-patterns, vocal and other 'inflections' they perceive from the one who's speaking. From all this, and AS the words and sensory perceptions come in, they determine what is the most likely motive that one who would use such words would have for saying those words in that way in this situation here and now. THEN, having deduced the true motive behind the words being used, they determine the true or intended meaning of the person who just said the words they heard.

Let's recap: first, they take everything they've mentally and sensorially experienced/noticed/perceived from the speaker (with the actual words being only a small part of the total input); from the total received intake they then they deduce a motive for the communication; THEN they determine what the true or intended meaning of the comment was ... from the motive and perceptions of delivery they just deduced.

EnTy's do all this instantly, and most of them don't even have a clue that this is the process they use to give meaning to the words they hear. It truly is an amazing bit of mental gymnastics, exceeding the capability of a quad-core computer chip in near-instantaneous processing speed. Brains can be marvelous devices, you know.

But there is a horrific part in all this for us Spectrumites. We're mostly to COMPLETELY oblivious to all of this "extra" mental thought-processing. Not because we haven't bothered to learn it, as so many folks tell us. But because our brains aren't hard-wired to do it as theirs are. After studying this communications dissimilarity for a couple years, I can logically understand how it works, but I cannot possibly apply that knowledge in "real-time". I don't have the automatic sensor-connection between the parts of the brain that control my eyes and ears to my "thinking" section that would make all those data-bits (that don't seem at all inter-connected to my brain) somehow affect the meaning of the words I hear. In many situations, this action by EnTy's seems to completely replace the meaning of the literal words with another "thought" entirely, one in complete opposition to the stated words. I can't figure out how to do that.

Nor can any EnTy for whom this is "natural", turn the process off when they're around someone who doesn't share the ability. In fact, those who do this most strongly are highly likely to insist that they DON'T do any such thing at all. It is probable they will take great offense at the mere implication that they would. And so, they insist we've just made a statement that bears no relation we of the Spectrum can tell to any words, thoughts, or understanding we've ever had in our lives. Let alone the words we just said. It's often infuriating to both sides. What a life, eh?

What is truly "me"?

After reading what I'd written yesterday about the growth and discovery of one's self as a 50-something, it seemed to me that I should have begun with how we are supposed to answer the basic question, what is "me". What do we find when we get there, and how do we know we've actually arrived at the right place?

I'll use the mechanism or process of learning to use my own vocal instrument. Learning to sing. I've got a marvelous teacher for re-creating the use of the vocal mechanism, as that is what she says she does. Note, this isn't re-creating the mechanism itself. Most of her students come to her expecting that, which she states right up front is an impossibility. And it is in this journey to find the proper use of the mechanism, how it really works when freed of all our expectations, controls, and fears, that we learn what our voice is.

She works from the knowledge that each individual vocal instrument has it's own inherent capabilities and possibilities, and cannot be at it's best until it is firmly grounded within it's own nature. It probably can do far more than it's owner has any clue. But before we can get a clue, we have to know what the basic voice really is.

We have all heard many other voices, and heard many comments over the years about what is "good" singing and how to do it, and we try (without often realizing it) to mimic what we like in other voices and claim it as our own sound. All of these things really lead to problems when we then try to sing as we think we should. As she puts it, the brain knows how the body works and how to make any sound it is capable of, but the mind, with all these preconceptions about what singing should sound and feel like, gets in the way.

There are several cognitive problems in how we think of and perceive our own voice. First, no matter how another voice sounds to us, it WILL NOT feel or sound (to the singer making that sound) like we think it would. So if we mimic the way it "should" sound to our own ears or "should" feel in our own body, we make a very different sound instead of what we intended to. You see, a well-produced voice, especially as the pitch rises, starts to sound thin to the singer making the sound. A good sound to hear isn't big and grand inside the singer, but OUTSIDE, and if you make it sound big "inside" yourself, it is a muffled, mushy, and less pleasant sound for anyone listening to you.

Second, even if we could copy the outward, "heard" sound of another voice, that choice in and of itself locks a great deal of the unique parts and capabilities of our own voice out of possibility. It's a choice to be smaller and lesser than we could be, not greater. And besides, if all we are is a copy of someone else, why not just play them on an iphone?

And the very important third problem: We don't have a choice as to what our instrument is. Period! Any more than we can choose to be eight foot tall or jump the Alps in a single bound. The first task, in learning to sing properly, is to find out what our own instrument naturally is as we develop the fullest capabilities of that particular instrument. And through that process, we learn the choices that can wisely be made to utilize that instrument in ways that we would find worthwhile, interesting, and rewarding. And that perhaps, we can become passionate about doing.

So the first part of the journey ... and a continual companion along the way ... is an examination of all the tensions and bobbles and kinks in how *I* sing at this moment. All the extraneous "fluff" that isn't actually necessary or useful for making a clean, naturally-"me" sound. Puzzle out the source for each and every bobble, and then imagine the replacement habit or thought that is the appropriate practice or thought for your voice. Then practice incorporating it as you lose the previous glitch.

Guaranteed, you will make what (to you) are the weirdest sounds you've ever made. It will seem to you to be the most gawdafful caterwauling you've ever done. And it will take time to come to grips with the new sounds as really "your" sound. Also guaranteed, you'll be sure NO ONE would ever want to hear this awful new muck you are producing as "singing".

The weirdest part of the whole thing? Most everyone around you will start telling you that your sound, your voice, is clearer, more open, and vastly more interesting than it ever has been. It's more "you" than you've ever been before to everyone around you. And ... your new voice can stand up and do tricks for you that your old voice could never even try. It becomes ... more ... fun ... and it leads you to places that will surprise but delight you.

And this is different from learning to really be yourself as a human ... how? It was quite a revelation to me to find that the most amazing and useful training on how to become a more complete and unique human was what I learned from my voice teacher!

Jackie Dickey, and hubbie and fellow trainer Kevin Skiles, thank you!

How do we become ourselves?

Apparently, a great deal of hitting our 50's is about becoming truly ourselves. Up until then, we are so busy with doing things and charging forward, we don't really stop to wonder what's next until then. Any kids that we've "lived" for, looked after, and built our lives around head off on their own ... and leave us with more time spent by and on ourselves. But even if we don't have children, we've still been doing the hard-charging thing. Somehow, we start to ponder this vacant space in our life of routines.

And then, this new thought starts lying around the corners of the mind: I'm not (somehow) who and what I have thought of myself as ... what's wrong with me or my life? Soon it is joined by thoughts about why the work we've felt so important isn't as far along or as important as we'd hoped it would be by now. Or even if it is, why it is suddenly lacking the call to drive our hearts anymore, as past accomplishments lose much of their importance. What has been important, judged by what we've spent our hearts and time on, steadily loses luster. The rules and expectations of others that we've accepted and lived by seem to make less sense.

The judgments that we've placed upon ourselves, for whatever reason, chafe and bind and seem to hurt our hearts and souls. How could we have lived this long and have done so little, become so ... little. We look at others and see substance, and inside and see emptiness.

It's all part of life, from all I can see it's almost a programming thing built in to human existence. And it is, in reality, wonderfully useful! It's how we finally come to grips with our own selves, and get to like and even ... enjoy being ourselves! Not that it is a fun process, mind you, but the end result is so worth the difficulties of the journey.

It's also a time for coming to grips with our parents, and even their parents. As I've talked of these things with others, it is interesting how many had wonderful grandparents who, they now realize, were a much nicer as a grandparent than as a parent. I think a necessary component of this part of our growth as an adult is to allow our ancestral family members to be human. Flawed. Vastly imperfect. And finally, at peace within our own hearts.

I've come to believe that if we cannot give our ancestral family their own separate places of peace, we cannot find any for our own selves. We cannot forgive our own hearts unless we can set aside the turmoils and troubles of those we have held dear, or perhaps, dearly needed to hold dear but couldn't no matter how hard we tried. Those whose own troubles have troubled us.

There may be things we seem to need to understand about our past and the past of our progenitors ... why is of course, such a large part of our concerns and thoughts. But as we walk along this path, at some point, we need to allow the flawed humans that shaped us their separate peace, laugh with their memories, cry a bit, and from and within it all learn to give our own foibles a place of peace.

And in that place of peace, we find ourselves. Really for the first time, not as we have thought and seemed and hoped and dreamed, but as we are. More potent than we have feared, not as shining as we had hoped, but still, a useful and interestingly very unique human of worth.

A new person, who finds life to be worth the passions needed to live it fully, "just because". Who knows how to laugh, more importantly, what to laugh about, and most importantly, finds their own life a delightful puzzle to solve by the simple and even naive pursuit of it.

It is strange, but that is really the part I think we need to re-acquire, naivety. Not out of inexperience, but from great experience. In fact, the best kind of naivety only comes from great experience! And in that naivety we gain joy, peace, and a rekindled passion for what really interests our hearts in the life of the world around us.

We learn to let go and live.

It's a Beautiful Day

It really is a beautiful day outside, today. Sunny with some fleecy clouds, temperatures in the upper 50's (f.), with only a slight breeze. The next couple days are supposed to get cloudy and colder with a possibility of snow! Changes can occur so fast this time of year.

The one constant thread in my "thinking" life is that I must learn faster. There is so much I need to learn well enough to use to advance my career as an artist and teacher. There are so many unanswered questions every where I turn for information. There is great discourse as to the programs and habits I need to learn!

Still, I love finding new things and place and people to grow by. This has become my current addiction. Not, overall, a bad thing, perhaps?