Have you ever had that feeling like you had been contending with the same thing over and over again with no apparent change in sight when all of a sudden, victory shows up right in front of you? Live can have these times that seem to have more downs than up, but light really is on the way. It will show up, in the least expected times. The most amazing part about it is that the ray of sunshine always comes when you're at your most weary, when you just give up on the fight and take your hands off the steering wheel of total control.
The last couple of weeks have been absolutely amazing! Multiple things have happened. Of all of them, though, the greatest news is that Nathaniel has only tried to run away 3 times. Yes, you read that correctly. He went from 2-3 times a day to less than a fortnight. How did this happen? Did I follow some formula in a book I read? Did I take some special fight or flight classes to teach me how to stop his running? Well, I'll tell you. Aside from going in to Marcus Autism Center and setting up a preliminary observation regarding his behavior, I can't say that I have done anything out of the routine.
All the kudos go to my wonderfully gifted, specially neurologically wired 6 year old himself. He has truly shown attempts at controlling his frustrations and has made some great strides. He is finally learning the art of self control, and I couldn't be prouder!
Just last week, he was on the computer playing an educational game when the program went haywire. At first he got upset, but instead of tearing apart the mouse, throwing out the batteries and tossing the mouse itself across the room, he just set it down on the desk and got up from the chair. That in itself was a vast improvement. And if that weren't enough, he just stomped around for a couple minutes, fussing at the computer calling it a liar. By the way, when something doesn't act fairly to his standards, he calls it a lie...we're working on his syntax. But, he did not dart for the back door, per his usual routine.
Instead, he stomped around, punched a pillow a couple times, and then paused in the middle of the family room. He stood up straight, clenched his arms and drew his hands into tight little fists and took a couple of deep breaths. He closed his eyes and to my amazement, he did something else he had never accomplished in such a strenuous situation. He opened his eyes, threw his hands up, as in small surrender, and said, "That's ok. That's ok."
Now for anyone who may have children on the Autism Spectrum, you know this was enough to make me tear up in wonder, relief, and joy. But it didn't stop there. It has happened several times since then. He faced what he deemed an unfair situation and instead of trying to run, he stepped back, expressed frustration, and then took control of his emotions and relinquished the right to be angry or fearful concerning the circumstances.
Yes! The light is shining! He is beginning to grasp the concept! I am overjoyed, over the moon, ecstatic, filled beyond reason with the hope that he will be able to learn how to cope with this world that he does not understand.
But what is even more amazing is that he is teaching me more about myself through this experience. How often can I say that I truly am willing to give up my right to be angry over circumstances beyond my control? How many times in the last month alone have I failed to have self-control? How often, and how should, I, like him, be willing to be okay with acknowledging my emotions and yet still let go of the anger?
Then it got me to thinking something else. How often is my frustration and anger caused because I have so little self control that I want to have control over other things instead? How much easier would it be if I just let go and not worry about situations that I can't control, that I shouldn't have to control? Yes, there is light at the end of the tunnel for Nathaniel. But there is also light there for me as well. We are on this road together. I am learning to take control over the things I should while at the same time lift my hands in surrender to the circumstances that are not mine to control. It is not always my job to control what happens; it is, however, my responsibility to respond. In order to be a good example for my children, I must learn to respond not with a manner of running away or wrestling with the situation, but with dignity and grace in a manner that I would be happy for my children to emulate 10 years or 10 days from now. Sigh. Deep breath. It is all going to work out just fine.
