The Gateless Gate

I prefer to remain where I am, wherever that is, I am happy here as long as people don't try to suck me into their agendas. At times though, it does feel like I am on a slippery slope as far as functioning goes. Without stress, which comes from being pulled in directions I have no interest in going, I function at a level that allows me to pursue my interests, obsessions, bliss.   I like this plateau I am on. It offers an endless 360 degree view. Sometimes, if I leave my little safe haven, to borrow a cup of sugar from a neighbor or something like that, I loose my footing and fall off the cliff. That hurts. I get injured.  After I heal I climb back up and get re-settled in my old familiar surroundings. Then everything's comfy cozy again and I tell myself I can live without sugar. But sugar is sweet and sometimes I get a craving and think "This time I will be more careful and not fall into the abyss of society."  You'd think I would learn, but I have the ability to block out pain and memories of pain, a kind of selective amnesia that allows me to function in spite of a nagging desire not to.  It seems to me that I have a choice: to function or not to function. That is the question.  And sometimes it seems there's a sign on the wall that says, "FUNCTION OR ELSE!" That scares me, so I function.

The Plateau

Many a hand has scaled the grand old face of the plateau

Some belong to strangers and some to folks you know

Holy ghosts and talk show hosts are planted in the sand

To beautify the foothills and shake the many hands

There's nothing on the top but a bucket and a mop

And an illustrated book about birds

You see a lot up there but don't be scared

Who needs action when you got words

When you've finished with the mop then you can stop

And look at what you've done

The plateau's clean, no dirt to be seen

And the work it was fun

There's nothing on the top but a bucket and a mop

And an illustrated book about birds

You see a lot up there but don't be scared

Who needs action when you got words

Well the many hands began to scan around for the next plateau

Some said it was in Greenland and some say Mexico

Others decided it was nowhere except for where they stood

But those were all just guesses, wouldn't help you if they could

I always have trouble with ent vs ant. I think a lot of people do. I know it's one or the other, but can't remembe rwhich. It's no indicator of a LTM problem in my opinion. I think, in my case, that it has something to do with opposites; either/or situations, where I know the answer is "either this" "or that". For some reason these situations stump me. This has interfered in my school work and also in my employment. I am faced with an option and must make a choice about a certain rule or procedure using one of two alternatives. I know what the alternatives are but can't associate them with the procedure.

A better way to explain it - I have to push a certain button in order to bring about a certain desired result. I have to choose between the red button or the green button. If I push the wrong button all hell will break loose.  If I push the right button everything will be groovy. I can't remember what button to push.  Is it red or is it green? Anxiety and indecision. Can't go back and ask the boss or the teacher, he or she has already told me which button to push 100 times.  It makes me appear incompetent.  Or is it incompetant?  It makes me hesitant (or is it hesitent?) to make decisions. 

I know my left hand from my right. But when I'm looking at my reflection in the mirror I just can't fathom how it works. There I am, facing my self, saluting myself with my right hand.  But if I was really facing myself, my right hand would be on the other side.  So what's up with that?  I know up from down even when I'm standing on my head.  But when I imagine myself standing on the surface of the planet Earth and taking a stroll around the circumferance via the prime meridian, things get a little confusing.  The sky is all around me, even when it's beneath me, so up and down are one and the same.  I wonder if this is what John Lennon was thinking when he wrote "Imagine".  Another thing that bothers me, confuses me, stumps me:  The period that I put after the parenthesis on the previous sentence.  Should I have put it before the parenthesis? I know it's either before or after, but no matter how many times I look in up in my little punctuation book - it never sinks in. 

The solution to the above is to keep a little note book and write thoseeither/or button pushing rules down for quick and easy reference. Yeah,it's a drag. But it's better than pushing the wrong button.

We were in Darby.   On the corner of Main Street and Chicken Hill. I was wearing my brand new leopard skinpillbox hat that I just bought from the Moonies for two dollars and fifty cents.  A real bargain.  I was feelin’ good because I like bargains and was having an excellent hair day.  We were debating, me and Lautrec, whether we should  walk up the hill to visit my UncleRichard.  Have a cup of Early Grey and afew tea biscuits.  The crispy ones with the chocolate filling that he keeps in a Currier & Ives tin.  I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the window of Bennett’s Men’s Wear and tilted my hat a little more to the side.  Woohoo!   Everything was just right.  I put on my cobalt glasses.  Lautrec said, “Oh no.” 

I asked him what he meant by that. He said, “I don’t mind if you wear the hat, and I don’t mind if you weart he glasses, but please, baby please, don’t wear the hat and the glasses at the same time.  Can you imagine the nerve of that man? 

Uncle Richard was feeling poorly.  It took him forever to open the door.  We started singing.  “Open the dooooooooor Richard.  Open the dooooooooor Richard.  Open the dooooooooor Richard.  Open that door and let us in.”  He was glad to see us.  Nobody ever went to visit him.  He had a bad case of Tourette’s with coprolalia and a lot of arm thrusting, neck wrenching, shoulder shrugging and kung fu kicking.  Come to find out, the reasonUncle Richard was feeling so poorly was because his girlfriend Minnie left him for another man, which in and of itself would be reason enough,  but the otherman was a “no-good mother effin (thrust thrust shrug thrust) pin head punk  from the ( wrench wrench thrust kick kick) sideshow.”  A human pin cushion who could stick knitting needles through his body parts with out even batting an eyelash.   Funny what some women are attracted to.  And, if that wasn’t bad enough, this no-good punk not only stole his woman,  but hisGucci black crocodile loafers that he bought from the Moonies, his stereo that he bought from the Moonies, and his entire Bob Dylan record collection that he bought from the Moonies.  “Can you (thrust shrug shrug) believe it?  Can (shrug wrench) you believe (kick kick) it?  That a (shrug shrug thrust) man would stoop (kick kick) so low?”

I put the tea kettle on and washed the dishes that were piled up in the sink.  Lautrec and Uncle Richard talked about deep sea fishing. Lautrec lived and breathed for fishing.  Uncle Richard loved it too but his Tourette’s made it next to impossible for him to hold a rod steady.  Lautrec took Uncle Richard fishing with him once on one of those party boats out of Barnegat Light.  It turned out to be a disaster.  A fight broke out because Uncle Richard’s tics were disrupting the other fishermen and a couple of them thought he was kicking them on purpose. Then he started with the coprolalia and all hell broke loose.  Lautrec got his nose broken.  Uncle Richard got a big gash on his chin, a blackeye and two busted ribs.

 I checked out my reflection in the lid of the frying pan. The curved surface made me look distorted.  I moved my head to and fro and from side to side trying to get a truer image.

Lautrec said, “What the hell are you doing?” 

“Just checkin’ out my new hat,” I said.  “How do you like it, Uncle Richard?”

“It’s (wrench wrench wrench) effin (thrust shrug shrug) ridiculous.”

I poured the tea.  “Where ya hidin’ the biscuits, Uncle Richard?”

“The (kick thrust thrust kick) effin Ho an’ (wrench wrench wrench) her lover (shrug shrug shrug shrug) boy (kick kick) took ‘em. (shrug wrench shrug).

“Ho Ho Ho,” said Lautrec.

At that moment I was suddenly seized by an overwhelming sense of loathing for both of them.

I put on my cobalt glasses.

Lyrics to Hey Man - Sing A Song :

 by Zucchero (feat. B.B. King)

Ho sei cose nella mente

e tu non ci sei più

mi dispiace;

guardo dentro agli occhi della gente

cosa cerco non so

forse un uomo

Hey man che cammini come me dall’altra parte della strada

hey man che sei solo come me dall’altra parte della strada.

SING A SONG AND SORROW PASSES BY

SING IN HARMONY

EVEN BETTER

WHAT D’YOU SAY, MY FRIEND, SOME SUMMER NIGHT

KEEP ME COMPANY

HANG TOGETHER

Chorus

HEY MAN – I SEE YOU WALKING JUST LIKE ME

ON THE FAR SIDE OF THE ROAD

HEY MAN – COME AND SING MY SONG WITH ME

ON MY SIDE OF THE ROAD

Che ci facciamo compagnia

Guardo dentro agli occhi della gente (hey man don’t you know)

cosa cerco lo so (don’t know why)

un altro uomo (I’m miss you I’m miss you)

hey, fratello di una notte d’estate (hey man don’t you know)

ci facciamo un po’ (don’t know why)

compagnia? (I’m miss you I’m miss you)

Chorus

hey man che cammini come me dall’altra parte della strada

HEY MAN – I SEE YOU WALKING JUST LIKE ME

ON THE FAR SIDE OF THE ROAD

Hey man che sei solo come me dall’altra parte della strada singing

HEY MAN – COME AND SING MY SONG WITH ME

ON MY SIDE OF THE ROAD

Che ci facciamo

hang together

TOM

Thinking Of Me

Am I surprised when I learn that someone has been thinking of me?  I have never really thought about this before and find it very difficult, almost painful in a “head-wrenching” way, as if my head would have to be put into a vise and pressure applied in order to squeeze out the information I would need to answer that question.  I assume that others think of me, as I, or because I, think of them, so I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that they have been thinking of me but I would be curious to know what they think of me or what led them to think of me.  I know for a fact, that much of my disappointment in relationships with others comes from projecting my own mind/self (intelligence, values,authenticity, emotions) onto someone else and being thoroughly surprised, dumbfounded,  (again and again) by the incorrectness of my assumptions.  It’s extremely disconcerting, but I never really learn from the experience.  I say “really learn” because, of course, I do learn to a certain extent, and vow to be more careful  with my assumptions in the future, but then I seem to forget and find myself doing what I said I would never do again.  Which raises the question: it seems like forgetfulness, but is it really?  Maybe it’s the way my brain is wired.  Is this TOM?

                                         In loving memory of Henrietta 1916 - 2009

Quando corpus morietur,

Fac, ut animae donetur

Paradisi gloria. Amen

When my body dies,

let my soul be given

the glory of paradise. Amen

Wennmein Körper stirbt,

lassen Sie meine Seele gegeben werden

der Ruhm des Paradieses.Amen

Cuando mi cuerpo muera

que mi alma reciba

la gloria del paraiso. Amen.                  

I was at work, in the mail room, getting the mail for the day.  The mail room guys were watching TV.  At first, we thought that it was all a terrible accident, that a plane crashed accidentally into one of the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center.  Everyone just went about there business as usual.  And then, back at my desk, a short while later, another plane crashed into the second tower.  Too much of a coincidence.  It had to be what we pushed out of our minds when the first plane crashed.  O God.  It was incomprehensible.  How could something like this be happening in our country?  Still, people kept on working and were expected to go about their business as usual.  This was something I couldn't comprehend.  How could we be expected to sit at our desks and work when our country had just been attacked?  Yes, it was a hospital.  Hospital work doesn't stop for anything.  It goes on 365 days a year no matter what.  But surely, those whose jobs were not critical to the care of patients  should surely be given the option of going home to be with their families at such a devastating time in our country's history. 

In defense of psychotherapists and the psychoanalytic process as a method of therapy to encourage attachment where little or none exists: 

I think it's unfortunate, narrow minded and irrational to dismiss a person's life work because you don't agree with their theories.  People from all modes of thought should be able to convene and communicate, exchange ideas freely, and maintain the presence of mind and maturity to treat each other respectfully and with civility no matter how different their views on autism (or any other subject for that matter) might be.  There's room for everyone.  No need to get nasty.  Take people seriously and listen to them attentively without your mind racing on the next move you plan to make in an effort to cut them off at the knees.

I don't see why the coming together of the many and varied schools of thought concerning autism spectrum disorders should be made into a war zone  where the petty and compulsive desire to protect one's territory is more important than possibly, hopefully, learning something new from the other camp. It's not as if every idea or thought or approach to new and better understanding of any subject or situation has to carry the ridiculous and heavy baggage of right or wrong. What is the underlying cause of all this furor?  Why can't the leaders and followers share their theories, experiences, approaches, results without feeling threatened by alternate views? 

I do see, and have seen, how the scenario of an on-line discussion among people of opposing points of view concerning autism could get ugly and turn into a shouting match. This of course is regrettable.  I don't agree with most of the major religions of the world, but I love learning about them and I respect their leaders, practitioners and followers, as long as they're not devil worshipers.

Maybe autism is becoming or has already become a kind of religion, in the sense that people, autists et al, are so highly passionate about and dedicated to their various and conflicting beliefs and practices, and all with good or honorable intentions, but foolishly believing that their God is the best or only God, that defenses and divisions have been constructed. and ideas that differ from one's own are seen as opposing forces to be deflected and/or squashed. The holy wars of autism are bound to break out whenever the subject of Autism arises. And that sucks. But, it is understandable when thoughts become doctrine and schools of thought become houses of worship.

Today, at 10:40 am, I completed my 66th trip around the sun.  Right now, as I am writing this, I am 10 hours and 4 minutes into my 67th solar revolution.  The view is spectacular. 10-4: Over & Out

Of course, me being me, I had to google 10-4.  And look what I found.  A Porter Wagoner & Dolly Parton song; 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZIY478WoEK4

J and I drove to Lansdale and had lunch at Red Lobster.  Nothing to write home about, even though that is kind of what I am doing, isn't it?  The floor in the restaurant was so slippery that J had to hold my hand til we got to our table.  I was wearing new shoes which made it seem even more treacherous.  As we were leaving, I mentioned to a waitress how slippery the floor was.  She said she knew, and that she almost slipped and fell a little earlier, and that she told the manager about the condition of the floor and he just shrugged it off.  I'm not exagerating when I tell you that walking across that floor was like walking on black ice. To demonstrate this, after taking my seat, I took off my shoe and slid it across the floor.  It glided about 6 feet before it came to a stop.  When we got home we had a very delicious pound cake with lemon filling between the layers and whipped cream on the top.  I got a lot of phone calls from my children and grandchildren to wish me a happy birthday, and my sister Gioya sent me a wonderful e-card.

http://www.sloppykisscards.com/3qbftr2n