There is a boy in my class with profound autism--a case that keeps him from speaking or being toilet trained at the age of six. He presents many of the stereotypical characteristics of the disorder, such as rocking, humming, and becoming aggresive when he's aggitated...
Today--as I was having a "conversation" with him (I scolded him mildly for playing in the sink and he responded with a big grin and a couple "flaps" of his arms)--I started thinking about the book I read describing what it may be like to live in an autistic body.
Most experts believe the sensory function of people with autism is unusual, either heightened or diminished, so they don't hear, see, smell, taste, or feel things the way most people do. To simplify a very complicated disorder, autistic kids may spend hours listening to the sounds of their own bodies digesting, or looking at the contrast between a light and dark object, or smelling things you and I cannot even detect.
Their systems try very hard to adapt to the problem, so they intentionally seek out stimulation for their eyes, ears, and nose. One doctor compares it to the way your nose may adjust to a smell which is very strong when you first enter a room, so you don't notice it after a few minutes. An individual with autism tries to fix the kinks in their system by constantly exposing themselves to it, numbing their minds of it after awhile. But they spend so much time battling their senses--preoccupied within their own bodies--that they never get a chance to learn the speech and social patterns of the outside world.
Autism comes from the root "auto" meaning "self." As I thought about my student this morning, it occurred to me that he, literally, is self-absorbed. And it has produced dire consequences on his development.
On the other hand, when I think of it this way, he isn't as unusual as society may believe. Lots of people spend way too much time seeking their own fulfillment and letting their senses decide what is best for them. They give so much credit to their own "feelings" that they aren't concerned with anybody in the world around them.
Some of us are "emotionally autistic" due to pain or trauma, retreating into self-protection mode after abuse or neglect. This condition is equally heart-breaking as the physical one my student has. But--somehow--there must be a way to break through--to see "past the end of our nose" as Mary Poppins would say--to interact with the world as mature adults rather than letting self-absorption stunt our growth.
Mature adults know how to communicate, and they do so rather than becoming easily angered when stressed. Mature adults are aware of their feelings--but they don't let them rule their lives. And, finally, mature adults spend most of their time considering the needs of others, not listening to (and complaining about) the mixed signals in their own heads....
Emotions are important, and senses tell us key things about ourselves and our world. But I wish there was a way to help my student understand there is more to life than the confusing tangle of sensory input on which he has been fixated for so many years.
And I wish I could free the emotionally autistic individuals as well. Those who let anger, depression, and false euphoria distract them from what matters.
We are all emotionally autistic to an extent. It is the way the natural man has been created with a bent to selfishness and sin. This being recognized, we spend our lives dealing with this side of ourselves. Sometimes we win; other times we backslide.
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