I’ve decided to escape the confines of the office environment for a little while. In what may or may not be a bout of internalized ableism (although my jury is still out on my own), I feel I’ve earned it, having gotten done yesterday not only everything on yesterday’s to-do list, but everything overtly planned for today, too.
There is always more work to be done, some of which has occupied a longer-term to-do list for literally years. Those list items have been there for a while already, and they’ll be there tomorrow, too. So for the moment, I won’t throw myself down a guilt-trip staircase.
For now, I’m just going to be. I staked out little pieces of territory long ago, and my most complicated decision was to choose among them.
OK, maybe there are more complicated thoughts pinballing around in my head…
…Like whether or not I’m actually fulfilled at this point in my life.
Sure, according to measurement tools utilized by the general population, I “pass”. I’m self-employed (employment being the biggest market on the general population’s ruler), and I’ve been with my partner for 18 years (another notch on the general yardstick).
But my detail-happy, hyper-critical brain says, “but there’s so much more to this life!”
There is indeed. I have my interests. I have my lovelies, both on and off the Asperger’s/autism spectrum. I have my beautiful kitties. I have my writing and music. I have interesting memories.
And I’m not implying that that’s not enough. I’ve been blessed, and in a sense that is much more than the cliché it may sound like.
But my spirit roams, in search of places I can never quite access and make myself at home in. It yearns for a past that is shrouded from view and a future that hasn’t arrived yet. It craves states that can only be achieved through activities that require much more self-discipline than I currently have, or even–ahem–supplies than I can access.
I’m consumed by a wanderlust I’m currently incapable of carrying out.
I seek truth. I would love to have X-Ray vision or microscopic size. I would love to be a fly on the wall of a significant room where decisions are made and truths are revealed. If the truth is stranger than fiction, I want to be privy to it.
It’s not that I’m nosy; it’s that I’m insatiably curious. And as metaphysical as I may come across, what with my dance around astral projection and meditation, or as throwback-hippie as I may seem with my hints at certain mushroom species, I’m actually quite the realist. I don’t want a manufactured “truth” that has been approved by authorities and sanitized through layers of agendas and interests.
My INTJ-flavored Aspie brain wants to be leveled with, whether that means within the realm of what is known about the physical world or I have to go outside of it.
Sometimes, though, I can’t handle the reality. Sometimes it’s too cruel and tragic; other times it’s too beautiful and miraculous. I can handle solving the mysteries; I can’t always handle the revelations.
I was always bewildered when a previous counselor kept telling me that I needed to delve further down. What did that even mean? As far as I was concerned, I was already a deeper diver than what I had witnessed of the general population.
Just how deep can a single soul go, anyway?
I had hit the basement floor, the deepest layers of my inner core, already. In fact, I have an express elevator that can go straight there on cue.
To get there, however, I must leave the office and isolate myself from people. I must remove every stage prop of my superficial life, every article of my costume, from my immediate surroundings. I have to go outside and connect with nature.
And I have to admit to myself everything that I am.
That has become much easier since I discovered that I reside on the Asperger’s/autism spectrum. That nugget revealed to me an entire set of truths.
And in so doing, I gave myself the permission to be alone enough to discover them. 🙂
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(Image Credit: Callie Fink)