Wednesday, February 27, 2008

Beauty in Small Things

"Being close to an individual with autism is about celebrating life. It's about finding beauty in small things. It's about overcoming society's stigmas. it's about learning fresh ways to look at things. It does not have to be about tragedy, or pain, or loss." Jasmine Lee O'Neill


Wise words. I would love an opportunity to be able to see the world just for 5 minutes through Robin's eyes. It would be seeing the world from an entirely new dimension. I know he notices things we don't even see and stores away things in his memory that we have filtered out subconsciously and never even notice. We see but don't see. Our brains are wired to filter out information, sights, sounds that aren't necessary. If we took in everything around us we would be overwhelmed.

This is what it is like for some autistic children. Absorbing sights, sounds, smells, data like a sponge, where do you put it all? How do you process it all? This is often the reason why children like Robin deliberately take time out. Take themselves away to somewhere quiet, a favourite hidey hole or den. Another mechanism for blocking out some of this overwhelming amount of information might be to rock, flick things or in Robin's case roll. He's a great roller. Robin can gently roll his way from his bedroom to another room to fetch a book and roll back again, or he can leap into rolls like an acrobat, with us wincing at the thought of a potential broken neck, depending on his mood.

Tight focusing on a toy, holding it every close and looking at it sideways is something that Robin has done since he was very small. I asked him once why? Did it make the toy look different, better? He said, 'it makes it big.' I think it's his way of blocking out excess information allowing hin to concentrate on his toy. Robin is very big on detail. The slightest difference, however small, is glaringly obvious to him. He's a great spotter. He can pick people out in a crowd or in a school photo straightaway.

In the classroom Robin often gets up and moves around quietly at the back of the room, picking things up and 'fiddling'. To begin with his teacher thought that it was because he was not engaged in the topic, but soon realised that he was taking in everything but it was easier for him to do that if he could move around, and by giving his fingers something abstract to do it allowed his brain to focus in on what the teacher was saying.

I often wonder if Robin could see the world through my eyes for 5 minutes, whether he might find it a bit like seeing in black and white when you are used to colour. He might be astounded how much he suddenly understood about people's body language and tone, but I wonder whether he would think that a good enough swap for the detail and texture that he gets from seeing the world as he does? I might see a tree and think it's beautiful. Robin might see a tree and could probably tell you how many birds are in it, that there's a Safeway bag caught on a branch, that there are more bright green leaves than dark green leaves, that there are 26 apples on it, 3 are half-eaten, 6 more on the ground underneath.

So next time you are out, why not spend a couple of minutes to see how much you can actually see if you really look. Try and see beyond the tree, the flower, the view. What else is there? There's so much more there than you think.

2 comments:

Polly Kahl said...

I came here from John Robison's blog. Your posts are beautiful. You do a lovely job of sharing the experience of loving an autistic child. I am the mother of two gifted children, but my brother who I love very much is Aspergian and I get a lot out of reading blogs related to all autism issues. Keep writing, keep your great attitude, and best wishes with your blog.

Polly Kahl said...

I'm leaving this commment because I forgot to click the box for folow-up comments. Thanks!