Joseph is doing some quantum leaps at the moment. The way we can most see it is in his drawing. You see, his coloring has been mostly squiggles and blobs and blurs, which he has interpreted as trains or thunder or some other objects.

But the other day, in preschool, his amazing teacher taught him how to draw faces. She got a mirror out so that he could look at his own face, and she had him look at hers as well. They figured out together that there are two eyes toward the top, a nose in the middle, and a mouth underneath.

And now Joseph draws face after face, with bodies, legs and feet, too! It’s an exciting step in development. One of my friends, who hadn’t seen him in perhaps a month, couldn’t believe the changes when she saw him yesterday. So hurray! for progress.

We were driving home from the store the other day when Joseph said, “There’s another silver Matrix!” Sure enough, right in front of us was the exact same make, model and color car that we drive.

I started waxing philosophically to Blue Eyes. Maybe that’s me in a parallel universe, I said. Maybe that me has a neurotypical kid. I wonder how she is different from this me?

So, Yoga Mother with the neurotypical child, how are we different? Have you had to learn patience as well as I have, repeating the simplest thing endlessly in the hopes that your child will one day grasp it? Have you tasted the humility of your child being different, being disabled, of your child (and, therefore, you) not fitting in when you’ve desperately wanted him (and you) to? What is it like to not have been imprisoned in walls of isolation — walls we are only now really breaking out of?

Most importantly, other Yoga Mother, I want to know what your spiritual life is like.  Have you experienced drowning in your own delusion — in stress, anxiety, hopelessness — the way I have?  Have you ultimately come to the knowing that God gives it all to us — that S/He weighs it out, measures it, makes sure it’s just right, and then sends it along — even if we never really understand why?

I think, other Yoga Mother, that the spiritual difference is probably the greatest difference between us. It’s not that you aren’t spiritual; it is the most important part of your life. But you haven’t been tested the way I have, and so you haven’t been forced to dig more deeply than you ever thought possible. You haven’t been broken open the way I have, so you haven’t experienced the same magnitude of comfort, grace, and simply the presence of Almighty Spirit with you every infinitesimal step of the way.

Would I trade with you, Yoga Mother of a neurotypical child? Yes. No. In a minute. Never.

Guess I’m not ready to answer that question. 😉

I have a friend who has recently turned 60. She says that, when you look back from that vantage point, everything that’s happened makes sense. She’s had some whopping challenges in her life — so, coming from her, this was no light observance.

And that is where I end today’s post: with trust. Trust that this journey is my journey. I wasn’t meant to be in that other silver Matrix. This road may have some incredible bumps, but it’s my road, my journey. So I bless you, other Yoga Mother, and let you go your way while I, with trust, an open heart, and the grace of feeling God all around me, go mine.

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