Precious Time

Anyone can give a gift. A token of affection or a meaningless bauble. But to give your time, now that truly is priceless. Time is something that is incalculable. Society may put a price tag on your time such as in the workplace, but wages earned is merely a means of survival this day and age. Every trinket ever given to me has value not because of the price tag attached to it, but because of the person attached to it. That person worked and earned a wage to gift me something. You see, it was their time that they put in that ultimately paid for their gift. Truth be told, I am just as touched by a warm embrace and a moment of laughter as I am a token. Time. Something so simple can bear so much meaning.
My time is precious, because I know that what I give is something that I can never get back. When such a gift is returned, my heart smiles. When we give each other our time, whether it be helping with a chore of some sort or simply hanging out watching a movie or talking over coffee, we are trading time, pieces of our lives that will never come back to us and have been traded in for a moment in our lives as memories. This is an amazing gift to give one another indeed. And the more effort put into use of that time adds more value to an already invaluable entity. To me, this is colossal.
Think about it; if you had a certain amount of gold coins that could only be spent and never regained, you would spend them wisely. You would cherish every single doubloon. Only things vital to your life would be worth spending on. Now stay with me; your time is worth more than said doubloons and how it is spent is entirely up to you. Should you choose to bestow some of that precious treasure upon another person, know that what you are giving is permanent as is what they are giving you in return.
I can be quite selfish with my time. In my quest for personal growth I have made it a point to work on this flaw, but not to the point that I have no time left for myself. I try to give my time to those that wish to give their time to me. And believe me, I am truly honored to receive such gifts from my friends and loved ones. However, I still take out time to sing and dance and draw and write and even nap. These moments are precious to me because I'm giving to myself of myself. My time is something that I deserve as well. But I am no longer exasperated at invitations or social engagements because I realized that a person that I care about wants to give me something. Time. They wish to gift me some of their life. And how foolish would I be to refuse such a treasure. I have come to realize that it is not only my time that is precious.

Broccoli

Have you ever tasted something so delectable that you savored it for a moment before swallowing? And throughout the rest of the meal you find yourself savoring each and every single bite until you're down to one last morsel and that's the one you savor the longest. Chewing slowly and possibly even making inappropriate sounds as you're enjoying it. Well, that's how I try to live my life, savoring every single morsel. There is an enormous amount of life in life and I want to appreciate and enjoy all of it, even the parts that quite frankly suck. But what is a meal without a vegetable? The parts that suck are the lessons of life. It's as if The Universe is saying, "Okay, enough dessert, here, have some broccoli". And that's alright. Broccoli is not the end of the meal, it's actually the best part. Despite the fact that it may not taste good, it's the nutrition you need to keep going. See where I'm going with this? Once you've had your veggies, you get dessert!
Alright, enough food analogies, I'm getting hungry.
What I'm saying is, life is meant to be enjoyed, including all the hiccups. Life, however, will not be enjoyable if all you see are hiccups. Life is hard, no doubt about that, but if all you have is hard you may want to revamp some things. People are so set in their ways and afraid to break out of their comfort zones that they just drone on and have absolutely no fulfillment at all. I refuse to be one of these drones. Don't get me wrong, I have bad days just like anyone else, but I do not have a bad life. Ah, that's the difference. Too often do we accept a slew of bad days as a bad life. This is tragic. My philosophy is quite simple. If you don't like something change it. I have heard the arguments, "You don't know how hard that is!" "I can't just change it!" To them I say "Stop making excuses!" Who says you can't change things you don't like? If you don't like where you live, save money and move. If you don't make enough money, work more and then move. If you don't like whom you are with, break up. But you don't want to be the bad guy? Trust me, staying in a bad relationship makes you the bad guy. If you don't like your job, quit. Want to take on a new career path, go to school. No money for school? Student loans, second jobs, and grants. Trust me it will be worth the effort in the end.
And don't give me this bull-pucky about the time and effort it would take to change because that's just an excuse. According to you your life already sucks, right? So, wouldn't making it suck for a positive change be worth it? It's going to suck anyway, so why not make it suck to your advantage?
My life is in shambles at the moment. And I'm okay with that. Why you ask? Well, because the end result will be spectacular! Chaos almost always precedes change. And really, isn't change what I needed?
What we need and what we want are too often confused with one another. I wanted stability but I needed some change. Can't have change without chaos. Don't misunderstand me, stability is quite important, but the right kind of stability, not of the mediocre variety. Getting by is simply not enough for a big spirit like me. For too long was I being stuffed into a box in which I simply didn't fit.
Here's where I am now, I am on a journey. My journey has taken me to new places and I've encountered new people. Some have given my life value and some have taught me about the type of person I don't want to be. Taking a shot is scary, especially when you don't know where to aim. So, I'm taking random shots just hoping to hit a target. But man oh man is it something to hear the gun go off! (Got that last line from a movie)
I have told a few people my life story, and it's a doozy! There are times when a person hearing my story will get a look on their face that I know all too well. To them I have always said the same thing, "Don't pity me. I don't do pity." And when told of my bravery I always say the same thing, "Are you kidding me??? I'm not brave! I'm scared out of my mind! But I have to keep going! I can't have come this far to turn and run back now!" My end result may still be far off. In the eyes of naysayers I may be lost, but I know for a fact that I am more found than they can comprehend. I stay true to myself and savor every morsel of life. Right now, I'm just finishing my broccoli.

Morning Ramblings

                I understand that most people do not understand me. But really, isn't that how all of us feel on some level? If all of mankind feels misunderstood, is it safe to say that maybe we simply aren't trying or revealing our true selves? How many times have you thought, "No one understands me. They say they do, but they don't. They think they know but they're not in MY shoes". Well, truth is, no one is in anyone else's shoes. Fact is, pain is pain, hurt is hurt, struggle is struggle, and just because they are in different forms or happening to different people doesn't make anyone's pain or struggle greater or more important. I'm not talking about extreme abuses, injustices, and suffering. I'm referring to our daily "okay" lives. One thing I think we can all agree on is that there are people that are suffering so horribly, that they'd trade places with us in a heartbeat. Injustices of all kinds; famine, homelessness, beatings, human trafficking, loved ones vanishing without a trace, murder, despair to the point of suicide, modern day slavery, cults...the list is truly endless. And in this list I realize that my problems are small potatoes. Yes, I'm struggling, you're struggling, bottom line is, we are all struggling. And our struggles are what makes us similar, not different.
            Aside from sociopaths, generally, we all care about one another. No person with an ounce of humanity actually wants someone else to hurt. Think about a sports event. When a team wins, the fans of said team are celebrating and hugging perfect strangers inviting one another to a tailgating celebration. Everyone is happy for the same reason and wants to share it with one another, even perfect strangers. So, why do we assume the same isn't true for times of struggle? "You don't know how I feel!" but what if we really do??? Why do we get so defensive in our feelings thinking we are the exception to the rules of emotions? In my humble opinion, it is in those times of grief or pain that I think we should reach out to one another. But here's the kicker, no one really wants the emotional burdens of another person, do they? Ah...therein lies the problem. We want to celebrate with one another, that's when we all understand and know how each other feels. But give us a moment of grief and then you're suddenly an emotional burden. Why have we conditioned ourselves this way? I once got a message from a friend and what they said pretty much sums up how we are. They said, "Hey, what's wrong with So-and-So? I'd ask myself but then I may be forced to help." When dealing with a personal issue another friend messaged me asking how I was doing, this was our exchange, "I'm okay. Such-and-such is going on but I'll be fine. No need to worry about me." the response I got was this, "I wasn't worried, just curious". I do not believe my friends to be callous at all, I believe they simply don't know how to handle negative situations. To be honest, neither do I. Don't think me some enlightened individual, because I'm not. In fact, if there's emotions involved, it kind of freaks me out. I am aware of this flaw. I'm just wondering how we got this way.
              I have been in need, and people have come through for me in ways that are truly humbling and wonderfully overwhelming. Their actions speak volumes. In celebration I have laughed and danced and enjoyed friends, family, and acquaintances, but when things would get emotionally ugly I'd hide, not wanting to burden anyone thinking "they don't understand me at all". I know I'm not the only one that does this.
           Truthfully, I don't even know where all of this is coming from. Just something I woke up thinking about. With my lack of social skills I find myself trying to understand people and for the most part, I simply don't understand people at all. But I do know that I don't like seeing people hurting in any way. So, even if I don't understand how someone feels simply for the fact that I am not them, I do know that it hurts me for them. I have been told more than once "You think too much. Stop trying to understand people." But I simply cannot. I will continue to try and understand because all of us feel misunderstood and that's not a very nice feeling. I have set boundaries on habitual violators that would use me as an emotional dumping ground, however, I will always try to be a person available to someone else even if I don't understand them.

Weekend Madness

            So, this weekend was eventful. It all started when my tribe and I were getting ready to go visit a friend and help her prepare for her daughter's 5th birthday party. She came over to help me get ready to help her. As it came my turn to get into the shower I asked her to please watch my special little guy while I bathed. She obliged and I thought I was going to be able to experience the first daytime shower in ages. I thought wrong. I was getting my groom on when I heard my son at the door. My friend distracted him...it lasted for 30 seconds. He noticed a stack of video games that belong to his uncle and proceeded to throw them around. When gently reprimanded he throws himself into a tizzy which normally would have had me running out of the bathroom. But I couldn't because his uncle was sitting on a couch that is right by the bathroom door. So I command said uncle to close his eyes and called to my son, "Papi, mommy's right here. Come here, I'm right here". The boy came running. Rewarding bad behavior at it's finest ladies and gentlemen. Don't judge me. As we exited the bathroom once I was finally properly clothed, he comes out just happy as can be. I told his uncle and my friend, "You see, there's the difference. That's not autism, that's pain-in-the-ass-ism".
            The following day (yesterday) was the day of the party. We arrive and The Autistic Avenger is behaving wonderfully and having a lovely time. That was until someone brought a gift bag accessorized with a Mylar Balloon. I forgot to mention to anyone that balloons are his weakness, his Kryptonite if you will. He took one look at the purple and pink metallic aircraft and it was on. He darted for the table that displayed his weakness proudly upon it as I tried to keep up. I was checking bodies and I'm pretty sure I knocked down a few old people, I can't be sure though, but I was tossing out insincere "I'm sorry"s as I was trying to grab my special little guy that suddenly moved faster than the Tasmanian Devil. I do believe he morphed into a tornado at one point. I really can't be too sure as it was all a blur. My friend saw the madness unfolding before her and grabbed the Mylar temptress and freed her from her ribbon and ran her to the car for safety. Crisis averted, or so we thought. Because not 5 minutes passed (he was calm by then) when guests arrived and there were balloons in every hand! I'm starting to think the invitations said "Bring balloons". As the birthday girl's older brother came down the walkway gripping two large bunches of balloons I knew it was over. Everything began to move in slow motion, I heard the Jaws theme begin to play "da-dum, da-dum, da-dum! da-dum! da-dum!", my life flashed before my eyes and they widened in terror, I scooped up my son and said "Well, gotta go!" and ran him to the car while covering his eyes. I begged off explaining that he would not understand that the balloons are decorative and he cannot have them all. All he would think is there are balloons around and all the adults are too stupid to know they all belong to him.
             I know my friends and family felt bad that he missed the rest of the party, but to be honest, he doesn't know what a party or a birthday really is. Once in the van he hopped into his car seat ready to boogie on home. He'd had enough excitement for one day. Our presence at the party lasted for 1 hour, 7 minutes, and 23 seconds. That's a new record. Once we got home he grabbed a snack of oatmeal and bananas, turned on Mickey Mouse Club House, propped his feet up on the table, smiled at me and patted the seat next to him gesturing for me to join him. I did. I kissed his head, he shooed me away as to say "Now I didn't say all that lady, just sit there and look pretty". We watched cartoons until I began to doze off, at which point I'm pretty sure I heard my non-verbal son say, "Yes Mommy, you look tired...it's a good thing I brought you home for a nap".

                 Once again another long pause in between posts. There has been much life going on. I have found myself on an incredible albeit difficult journey these past months. There's also a small matter of a Facebook addiction I won't delve into >.< Not to mention I have been cheating on my blog with my journal. There's just something about penning my thoughts as opposed to typing them.
That being said...
                 Much has changed in my life these recent months. Very humbling experiences that's for sure. My children are growing at a rate that quite frankly terrifies me. My oldest daughter is now 12 and getting all lumpy. My classic middle child syndromed daughter is now 9 and I do believe her IQ is now higher than my weight. My son is now 6 and I am considering legally changing his name to The Autistic Avenger. They are what keeps me young yet in some cruel irony I'm almost certain they have also shortened my life span. Their transition over the last months has been difficult yet steady for the most part. Truth is, they inspire me with their resilience. I could not be more proud of my minions.
                As for myself...well, there's a book to be written. I have found myself going from "I don't need anyone" to "Please sir, may I have some more". But all in all I have discovered a drive within me that I did not think I possessed. There is something to be said for humility that's for sure. Sometimes I think about giving up, but I just can't seem to. It's just not in me. My path may be a long and winding one, but I must see where it goes. Where is this life going to take me? More importantly, where am I going to take my life. I had to force myself to start living my life instead of just surviving it. I am still the same person yet different somehow. I laugh more, smile more, dance more, sing more, I am more. And I want more. No, I NEED more. More life. And in losing pretty much everything, that's what I gained. Life. The wonderful thing about losing damn near everything is I've got nothing left to lose. What I did not lose was myself nor sight of what's important. I am not where I want to be in my life, but maybe, just maybe, I am where I need to be. Learning to decipher the difference between want and need is a hard lesson. But how can I value what I have if I have not suffered a loss? How can I know what I need unless I need it? And how can I teach my children lessons I have not learned myself?
               One of the greatest lessons I've learned is value. I have learned the value of people. I already had an idea. But I have a hard time allowing anyone close to me. How can they leave if I never let them in. That's some heavy baggage to carry around. My situation and struggles have forced me to allow people closer to me. It's still a work in progress. I'm still a work in progress. Working on myself and earning my own value is greater than any paycheck. Allowing myself to feel has been another daily struggle. But piece by piece, brick by brick, I'm chipping away at the wall.
             One of the greatest injustices I've done to myself is that I have not allowed myself to feel. And that numbness I've mentioned before was making me ache. But you see, now that I am here at this moment, I am glad for the suffering, for without it the joys would not be so great. Is it not the cold that makes the warmth better? Is it not the rain that makes the sun shine brighter? I know that the position that I am in and the struggles I face are not a life sentence. But in order to get out, I must make it through. Yes, I have lost. I have lost a home, a marriage, and what I thought was a planned life. But what I have gained was worth the cost. Yes, I have lost a lot. But I have gained so much more. And the best part is, I'm still gaining.