What is

I breathe. I lie here in bed after a brief night’s sleep. Am I rested? Apparently enough because I’m awake. What is my story today? It feels so simple and at the same time expanding at the speed of light. I’m aware of the silence, the beautiful quietness in my mind. I can feel the pulse in my ears, the support of the bed beneath my body, the weight of my fingers touching the keys and moving as I type the words that appear on this page.

I met some magical people yesterday. I connected with energy so gorgeous and pure and full of complete love. We are one. I breathe in gratitude for this experience. I’m in deep love.

I am.

Lane's lesson for the day

Lane just came downstairs for the morning and had something to tell me:

"Mom, you know how you turn a bad dream into a good dream? Stop thinking about the bad dream and turn it into a good dream."

So simple and so true. He's so brilliant!!

Clarity of Purpose

My son Ian has Autism. He’s also globally delayed, has a seizure disorder, food allergies and sensitivities, chemical sensitivities, and the list goes on. He also has beautiful green eyes that twinkle when he smiles, a little smirk that brightens my day, a level of patience that exceeds my capacity of understanding, the most amazing pure expression of love I’ve ever experienced, and he is my greatest teacher.

He’s my little Zen master and I his faithful student. Though at times in my journey I would say my faith waned but that did not deter him. He always remains true to his destiny and speaks the absolute truth. He cannot lie. You see he does not speak words from any verbal language. He actually makes very few sounds and the ones he does make are mostly vowel-based however he has taught me that words are so unnecessary to communicate. They actually get in the way of truth and clarity. His communication is clear, truthful, and transparent and once I finally started to learn how to hear him, my whole world shifted.

He has so much work to do, so many lessons to teach and I’m finally hearing him. He’s so relieved. I hear him say, “Ok Mom, you finally are getting it. You’re really hearing me and now let’s get to work. You need to use that language of yours to share my lessons with others.”

It is my belief that he and I have a contract, an agreement that we made. He’s been playing his role perfectly and I now am starting to understand that I’ve been playing my role exactly as I needed to in order to get to the point where I am today, at this very moment, typing these words on my computer. I’m compelled to share Ian’s lessons because it’s what I’m supposed to do.

My Country Mouse

My most memorable quote from the day: “Our son is a country mouse” by my husband, Lowell. He uttered it on the shuttle ride back to our hotel in Seattle, Washington after Lane clearly communicated he did not enjoy the sights, sounds, and smells of the city. “Mommy, it’s too loud,” he said. I was right there with him. You see we had just come off a four-day reunion with the Hunter/Krueger family. In the end 38 of us gathered together to connect through conversation, laughter, play, and eating fabulous food.

After waking this morning and saying goodbye to our loved ones we drove to Seattle to spend the final 24 hours exploring the city before returning home to Ian tomorrow. What I didn’t realize before reaching Seattle was how stark the contrast would be between the family experience in the quiet, natural settings and the in-your-face intensity of the city. Now, before I continue, I know there are many great qualities the city offers, I just did not see many of them on this day.

What I did see was disconnection and contrasts everywhere. I witnessed the evidence of poverty and the excess of materialism. The sensory overload of sounds and sites invited a headache and I felt my energy plummet. So, it came as absolutely no surprise when Lane behaved so differently in this environment versus the one surrounded by family and love. He appeared bewildered, confused, and scared. He constantly wanted to hold hands and be in between us. We provided a protective barrier to the energy coming at him. I won’t go into the detailed story about what transpired except to say we all felt the same thing; overwhelmed by the contrast. We promptly returned to the safe container of our hotel room.

Once back in the room, Lane immediately perked back up and started smiling again. We were back to just us and I felt a sense of relief and contentment. Lowell read a story to Lane, I bathed him and as I sit typing this Lane sleeps peacefully. We connected. I learned so much in that short 90 minute excursion. To nourish my soul, I need to live close to nature, move gently, and connect in love. My little country mouse helped me see this so clearly today. Thank you, sweet Lane for yet another powerful lesson.