Today I had a bit of a tough day at the office, my first in almost a year of being there. To spare my bride and kids from my grouchy attitude, I decided it was a good time to mow the lawn and get some exercise, a chore I have no grief about doing and actually really enjoy. As I was trying my best to manicure the lawn, my thoughts of my day were erased and my thoughts turned to the kids. I realized how lucky I am to have two great kids, Delaney who is almost 8 (going on 25) and Kian, who just turned 11. Most of my readers know that Kian is autistic and is our motivation for starting F.A.A.S.T., at least the main motivation. Both of these kids are our pride and joy and the pieces that put the puzzle of our lives together.

Anyway, the more I thought about the kids, my thoughts began to shift towards dreams; my dreams, Robyn’s dreams, the kids dreams. I know my daughter’s dreams are to become a “Pop Star” and if you ask Kian, the common response is “I don’t know.” So this got me thinking about his dreams, if he is really able to create the big picture dream(s) for his life. That got me thinking and what I thought of is the dreams I have for him that I want to share with the world.

-          I dream that he will find happiness in a tough world

-          I dream that he discovers his calling and a career that allows him to show his greatness and skills

-          I dream that he may have long lasting and meaningful relationships and be loved for the kind, gentle and loving man he is and will become

-          I dream that he builds his legacy through hard work and determination, never allowing the challenges he has ahead of him stop him from achieving his goals

-          I dream that one day he recognizes the accomplishments he has already made

-          I dream that one day he will realize the impact that his life has left on all of those who have come to know him

-          And finally, I dream that one day he may realize how cherished and special my life has been that I could call him my Son

“Keep your dreams alive. Understand to achieve anything requires faith and belief in yourself, vision, hard work, determination, and dedication. Remember all things are possible for those who believe.” (Gail Devers)

As Father's Day is just around the corner, we're seeing a number of posts honoring Dad's of autism. There have been great posts on various blogs and websites coming out this week and I've enjoyed reading all of them because for many of us, they speak to our soul; they speak to our hearts and help us understand that we are not alone. I came across one today that really spoke to me on a personal level. I want to share with you that post that can be found on the blog at http://www.autism-society.org. The author is a gentleman named Joel who manages the blog network Autisable and you can judge for yourself if this relates to you. Here it is:

The Bond Between Father and Son is Even More than I Expected

Joel, editor of the blog network Autisable, shares his thoughts on fatherhood. June 14, 2011

"Being a dad of a child with autism has its own set of blessings.

Like many fathers, when the diagnosis was confirmed that our son was on the spectrum, there was a sense of relief – and then a sense of loss. Lost dreams, lost moments that may or may not ever be. 

Often, I’ve found myself in a state of wanting to have a basic conversation with my son or even play catch – teaching him sports.  You know -- what dads often do with their kids.

But there’s something else I’ve found that overrides the sense of loss I once had, and it’s those moments of joy when we experience that connection. The smiles and the hugs I receive when I get home from work.  The wrestling, the tickle fights, the reading of books, the watching of videos. 

The bond between father and son is still there, and it’s even more than what I expected.

I remember one day trying to explain to someone that my son does understand, but he has his own set of challenges expressing himself.  While I was explaining, my son held my hand – and squeezed tightly whenever he wanted to say that he heard me and appreciated me for speaking for him.

I’ve found that the role of a father is more than I ever imagined, and this is due to learning so much from my son, who,  even with so few words,  has taught me so much.

May you enjoy Father’s Day, and find those moments of joy."

There are a number of blogs that I have read that have an impact on me and my point of view of autism. Almost daily, I get notices of new blog posts from all over the country, some beyond and I read them and say, "wow, can I relate!". I am grateful for those who take time out of their busy schedules to put in writting their story of autism. It helps to bridge the gap between hopeless and hopeful, a gap that can be all too larger for some. Today a young lady by the name of Tara Christensen posted a great blog on the wall of our Facebook page and with her permission, here is an entry from that post. Please enjoy!

As a child, I would walk into a room and if it was filled with people,  I usually walked out as quickly as possible.  It was hard for me to be around other people.  I couldn't explain why.  I didn't understand what was going on inside of myself.  I just knew that I wanted to have quiet time and space to myself.  In a home of 11 children, that was a hard thing to accomplish.

I have spent years trying to learn about myself and why I am the way I am.  I do not have a degree and I have only completed 3 full semesters of college (and almost every class I took was a music class).  I have studied and read (on my own) much about music as well as a little about law, physics, psychology, biology, and communication.  All of these things gave me great information, wonderful insights, and mind-blowing correlations...but no answers as to why I was different.

Then one day, while driving my truck (and I mean a real, 18-wheel truck), I blacked out for a nano second.  I was taken from behind the wheel and had to go through three months of tests.  While being tested to find the reason I blacked out,  I was diagnosed with 3 other things.  Two of them were fairly easy to understand and were physiological birth defects that could not be changed.  One was more difficult for me.  I was told I had Asperger Syndrome.  I didn't know a lot about it at the time, except that the few people I had known with it were very non-social, a little odd, and obsessed about one particular thing.  I was social.  I had a hard time going to school because I couldn't keep my interests narrowed to one thing.  But I was, however, quite odd.  It took me almost 4 years to accept that diagnosis.  But when I did, WOW!  Not only did my life change, but the lives of everyone around me have changed.

I am very high-functioning, but I have insights to the Autistic world that seem to be uncommon.  The biggest life-changing perspective came about 2 years ago.  I had been working for nearly 3 years with a friend who was helping me to understand emotions.  We literally spent hours and hours everyday talking about feelings.  She would say something, ask me how I felt about it, and then go through a list of emotions.  I would listen until she struck on the one that would hit something inside of me and then we would talk about that emotion.  Sometimes I didn't know what the emotion was that she was naming and so she would put it into a picture for me.  Things like, "I feel like I have the entire Atlantic Ocean inside of a five-gallon bucket, and if I put one tiny pin-sized hole in it, it will crack and explode and everything will come rushing out."  From that description, I came to understand what the words "holding things in emotionally" really meant.

After years of this, I had some amazing, personal experiences that helped me learn to open up my heart again.  Wait.  Did I say again?  Yes.  I did.  I have gone back over my own life and tested this theory on every "handicapped" person I have met; it has yet to be proven untrue.

As a child, the reason I would get out of the room as quickly as possible had nothing to do with anything the others around me could see.  It was what is unseen that bothered me.  There wasn't too much color, too many patterns, too much noise, too much music, too much activity.  It was the emotions in the room.  My "meltdowns" were not caused by one of my 5 senses being overly stimulated.  It was the over stimulation of something that most mother's would never think of.  I could feel everything, every emotion that was in that room.  Of course, as a little child I was not conscious of my own emotions and was even less so of others'.  It would have been impossible for me to come to understand my own emotions amidst the jumble of the other emotions all around me.  The meltdowns and shutdowns are survival techniques to keep from literal insanity.

Imagine being 3 years old.  You walk into a room with maybe 7 people in it (including you).  One person is angry because dad wouldn't let her take the car.  Another person is sad because her boyfriend is 20 minutes late.  Another one is trying to psych up his energy before heading out to his wrestling match.  Another is so tired because he didn't sleep much the night before.  Maybe someone is elated because the girl he likes wants to go out with him.  Someone else is feeling stressed and overwhelmed by all of the school projects due tomorrow that have been procrastinated.  You are feeling very calm and happy, having just seen a very beautiful flower in the bed outside.  Now add to that, upon entering the room and feeling all of those things, your own new additional feelings: bewilderment, frustration, stress, fear, anxiety. 

Put all of those emotions into one container and feel them all at the same time.  Can you understand it, make sense of it all?  Imagine what it must be like to try to understand those feelings as a toddler who doesn't even understand his/her own emotions yet.  I did the only logical thing to do.  I decided my "feeler" was defective and shut it down.  Then (again this is only my theory) the neuro-pathways that had been used to discern and understand emotion were reassigned elsewhere, much as a child who is born deaf or blind.  The brain says, "Okay, those links are no longer being used.  Let's not waste some perfectly good neurotransmitters.  You and you are reassigned to logic.  The rest of you, focus on ...."  And the reprogramming of the pathways begins. 

It has taken years of conscious work to learn to reopen my heart and have access to it again.  I still cannot tell you how I feel at the drop of a hat.  It has to work it's way down from my head to my heart.  I still get confused about whether what I'm feeling is my own emotion or if it belongs to someone else.  I still have days where I will be in a funk for several hours before I realize that it isn't my "voice" for that emotion.  Meaning, the picture of that emotion is not something I would ever feel, not in that way. 

Each emotion carries a little of the attitude and personality of the person it is coming from.  Sometimes I know exactly who it belongs to the minute I feel it, other times I spend days trying to figure out what is going on.  It is not easy, but it is often very miraculous.  When I am in large groups, instead of thinking about "meltdown" I start to think about how to ground myself.  I focus on feeling my own feelings or if I am there with someone I know, trust, and who knows me well, we have a signal.  That signal means I need contact to help me get grounded.  I find my own feelings first.  Then, standing next to a friend and having some sort of physical contact with them allows me to pick up on their feelings more than anyone else, it's sort of like turning up the volume.  After a short time (moments to minutes depending on the environment we are in), I am able to continue and interact.  But without that time, bring on the meltdown!

I guess what I am trying to say is that most people who have a "special needs" label are just more aware of what is unseen than those who are "normal."  I have also found that the more severe the inability to interact with things on the physical plane, the more attuned that person is to the things that are unseen.  I am currently working with a child who is aware of the feeling of not only the people around her, but the earth itself.  She can feel how everything feels and it directly affects her body.  She got sick out of the blue.  She had not been exposed to anyone who had been sick, there was no reason for the immune system to be down (normal sleep, supplements, eating, etc.).  There was found that a small water pipe directly in front of their home had a crack in it.  The day it was fixed, she was well.  Again, no explanation as to why...no change in anything except the pipe being fixed.  I have since tried other things with her.  The day they mowed the lawn, she had a very hard day.  When it was raining, she was ecstatic, and then she got a stomach ache.  As we walked outside she would pause occasionally at different vegetation.  She would walk up to a tree, put her foot at it's base and her hand on it's trunk.  She would stand there for 3 minutes.  Then, off she would walk again.  A bush.  She would back into it, sit on the ground, and rub the leaves back and forth over her face, as though she were letting the bush hug her.

And this is just one girl on one day.  Some people call me crazy.  Some people think I'm "out there."  Some people think the whole thing is a lot of nonsense.  But I have been on a crowded subway in New York City, standing room only.  Felt an emotion that made me feel like I was angry at God, feeling betrayed by God.  I knew I wasn't feeling that way when I got on the subway.  So I borrowed the foot of my friend standing next to me.  With my shoe touching her's, I was able to ground myself.  Then I started looking around the car.  I zeroed in on a woman.  She was smiling at people, even offered me her seat when we made eye contact.  Her eyes smiled, not just her face.  She bore not one sign of feeling the emotions that were overwhelming me.

But I've done this enough to trust what happens.  I sat next to her when the seat opened up and began a conversation with her about the book in her lap.  I waited for some indication to know what to say to her, how I could help her.  We came to the northernmost stop of the A train.  We got off.  She started up the stairs and I asked if she was in a hurry.  She said no.  I asked if I might have a few more minutes to talk with her.  She came back down the few steps and I began saying things that I had felt.

Up to this point in my experiences with people, it is my "disability" that allows me to know when someone needs help.  What comes after this is not me, my "disability," or dumb luck.  It is the Spirit of God working through those who desire to help His children find Him and find their path in life.

I told her that God was real.  That he did hear her.  That the answers she was seeking seemed to not be coming, but that if she would keep her heart open, they would come.  If she would seek for God, He would give her answers in places she did not expect them.  I told her that God knew that what she was going through was very hard, even seemed impossible to face.  He knew her anguish and her struggle to find Him in all of this, and He heard her prayers.

After I said all of that she began to cry and brought to our attention that her eyes were closed when I began to speak to her on the train.  I said I had almost not begun talking with her because I thought maybe she was trying to sleep.  She said, "No.  I was praying."  She told us how she had just then prayed and told God that she really wanted to believe.  She just felt so alone and abandoned by Him and there didn't seem to be any answers coming.  She told Him that if He could just give her some way of knowing that He did at least hear her prayers, that she would try to keep going.  Then she told us about how she had just recently been diagnosed with a terminal illness.  How it was affecting her life and her fiance and all that they hoped.  She spoke of doubt, discouragement, disillusionment, and fear.  By the time the conversation was over she had faith, hope, possibility, and courage.

This woman was a total stranger to me, someone I have never before nor since laid eyes on.  When we learn to work past the stigma of the weakness and turn to our Creator for direction, He truly does magnify us and make weak things become strong.  That which was my greatest sorrow as a teenager has become my greatest joy as an adult.  I have a gift, not a disability.  It comes from God, not from a defect.  It is part of my mission, not a handicap.  It is a blessing and a privilege to use, not a curse and a burden to carry.

I'm a person who can feel the feelings of those around me and, when I consciously choose to focus on those feelings, I receive guidance and inspiration from God about what can help the person whose emotions I am feeling.  The physical world is not as real to me as the ethereal world is.  When I meet a person, I couldn't tell you the color of their clothing let alone the color of their skin.  But I could tell you about their eyes, and their heart; their greatness and their sorrows and pains.  And why can I do all of this?  I'm an Aspie and I see the world through God-colored glasses.

Have you ever read something, a quote for example and a few years later you read it again and it seems to have changed in meeting? As I have become more seasoned, or simply put become older, I have found that I really enjoy reading quotes from some of my favorite idols such as Martin Luther King, Jr., Abraham Lincoln or Kahlil Gibran. At times, I will often brows the app on my phone during lunch to find new quotes, maybe a quote that will help put recent events into perspective. There are times when a quote just comes to mind and after seeking it out, it seems to fit perfectly into how I am feeling or thinking that day. It is in a way a method for me to be able to relate to people who I admire because of the tremendous obstacles they have faced during their lives.

A few minutes ago I was responding to some emails from a few people who have contacted us when I noticed my signature line. It contains a quote that has been there for years, but I have somewhat overlooked just knowing it is there. I put it on my signature line back in 2007 while I was working on my graduate program and really struggling.  I was working on a paper and having a heck of a time getting things put together and in the meantime, I was starting to doubt whether or not this program would really be worth all the effort I was putting in. A few weeks earlier, to make matters more difficult, I had also just recently gone through a difficult personal situation and felt that maybe the cards were just not in my favor; at that moment, I thought about giving up, quitting school and just saying I’m done.

In the background I had the NFL Hall of Fame Induction Ceremony on the television and I heard Hall of Fame receiver Michael Irvin say in his speech the following;

“Look up, get up and don't ever give up."

Knowing the story of Michael Irvin, his personal demons and struggles with drugs and the law, I could hear the sincerity of those words as he spoke. In a way, it made me realize that what I was going through was minimal in comparison to the struggles of so many in our little world. I realized I was probably just feeling sorry for myself and I needed to take the advice and “Look up, get up and don't ever give up."

We come to today. I guess the last year or so has changed the meaning to this a bit for me. In many ways I think this quote fits our community, the autism community to a “t”. If you think of all the challenges that those on the spectrum have in their daily lives, giving up may seem to be an easier alternative to meeting those struggles head on. Especially going into adulthood, saying “the heck with it” and throwing their hands up, may be something that goes through the mind quite easily.

But we move on; we continue to push forward and live our lives facing our struggles head on and do our best to persevere as best we can. The meaning of the words has become more meaningful to me knowing how difficult the diagnosis of autism can be, changing the outcome we had previously believed we had and how our lives are going to change as a result of autism. However, the best we can do is keep remembering to “Look up, get up and don't ever give up."

If you would like to view his words as he said them, the first speaker is Mr. Irvin.

Every day for the past few months, going to the refrigerator has been a learning experience. Yup, I said the refrigerator as strange as it might be. You see, my wife found what is called "11 Life Lessons That I've Learned From Raising A Child With Autism" and stuck it on the fridge. I don' yet know if it was intended for me to learn a lesson, but if that was the intent, it worked. I want to share this with you as maybe it will be helpful to you.