My son just told me he is only wearing his retainer (for his teeth) at night! He is supposed to wear it all day and night for a year!!! Oh, noooo; he is breaking a rule! I watched myself in the mini-van spin into a semi-state of hysteria. Just when I thought I had this “rule thing” all figured out, I lost it. However, I was able to step back enough to watch, as the observer, as I “scolded” my son. “Do you know how much we invested in your teeth? What do you mean you are not wearing it all day? How could you do that?” By the tone of my voice, and the racing of my heart, I’d have thought, in reflection, I’d just found out that my eldest son robbed the mini-market down the road. Oh, my gosh! Freak out. Total freak out. This is so wonderfully awesome, to be a witness to my humanness.

I just apologized. “You kind of over reacted,” my teenage son responded. “I know I did. I know I did,” I said, the words floating inward to my core.

Something shook me; I don’t know what, but something. I am thinking my reaction is two-fold, this mini-freak out. Part one is my close adherence to manmade rules, the second is my immediate embracing of fear (in this case the loss of all the time and money in fixing his teeth). The fear part, I think I am getting a huge grasp of. I can talk myself through, and as observer sit back and take a sip through a straw of cool iced-tea and watch the other me spin. I know she’ll come back; it’s just so weird to watch.

I recognize this is part of my learning and growth. Right when I think I’ve got this “me” under control, something comes out of the woodwork to remind me that first of all I do not have control of anything, and second of all, I don’t need to focus on this “control.” I am me. This is me. This is how I currently walk in the world, and that is okay.

Had you asked me two hours ago, how I was, I’d tell you Aspergers, at least the fear and anxiety part, was behind me; this is troubling, as I now walk half of my day in extreme peace and solitude, and a large portion of the rest smack back down in the earth zone. I feel like a gladiator that retreats to pray in the chapel each morning and then is thrown into the arena with the beasts. Truth is, I am a champion; I continually destroy the beasts; problem is I’ve gotten all these bites on me now, like giant-mosquito-wasp-mutant-beaver-teethed-ghosts keep buzzing about and chomping. Flesh is literally at my feet!

I am never going to be perfect! Never, ever, ever, ever. And that kind of sucks; but it’s good, too; because I don’t think there are many people who want to hang out with a floating semi-saint. I mean, I would totally miss sipping a hard pear cider and drowning myself in garlic-cheese fries, (with freshly grated parmesan.) Can you sort of tell that I am having some trouble navigating life? I love, love, love the floaty, ethereal part of being connected with my higher source; I seriously glow. But all that floating, it has a price. Coming out of that state makes me hit bottom hard. I imagine the process of drifting down is much like coming off a high of a shroom or some drug, like LSD.

As case and point, semi-saint speaks below:

“I am walking through a tunnel, the tunnel of attachment to enlightenment. I am attached to the enlightenment. But soon this tunnel shall be lifted, and I shall see a million tunnels before me, all the levels of attachment lifted. And then I shall be in that space above the tunnels and blessing the tunnels one by one; my life an endless bliss of thanking every single thing that brought me suffering. Soon I will see beyond the tunnels into the space of nothing. Then I will be filled with the divine laughter at the seat of my soul; then the imaginary tunnels as they float in front of me will bring me nothing but joy as they explode and burst into butterflies.”

***

I mean who in their fricken mind talks like that? Well, supposedly I do! Surprise. All the sudden all these aspects of me are emerging full force, like this confidence I have reclaimed has in and of itself called out all the parts of me and declared: “Share who you are with the world. We are free!!!” I can hear the trumpets. I can see the dancing. I can see the naked guru fluttering down the street: I am butterfly. I am butterfly. I am butterfly.

What if that is my next state? What if I am morphing into a street streaker? That is possible you know! I could manifest it, or some person out there might be manifesting it right now!

Of course, this would draw an increasing number of people to my blog. So there is that.

I was contemplating, the other night, after my husband’s classic quote: “I keep thinking to myself, how do you do that? I mean who’s got that much shit to say,” that perhaps the book title I have been searching for is truly: Shit, my wife says. I mean that would draw the other half of the population in that isn’t in it for the streaking.

What do you think? We (you and me—as you are automatically my best friend by reading this)..we could insert “aspie” right before the word “wife,” so the search engine could find it better, or I suppose “Asperger’s.” We could indeed insert several adjectives of interest there. Hmmm. Let us change the subject.

Here is some more of myself this morning. There has to be a middle ground, between this shaking-her-head-at-sad-little-wanna-be-guru-half-me (who is typing now) and the sad-little-wanna-be-guru-peon (who is writing below.) There just has gotta be!

***

“I find myself slipping back into self, into a place I cannot see; it is as if I am there and watching, experiencing the whole thing, but then when I try to look back, it appears I wasn’t there to begin with; as I cannot remember walking through life, or breathing, or even thinking. The process is similar to when I write my spiritual prose, in which I hear this delicate woven oneness throughout my being, and from somewhere deep that isn’t deep at all; this lovely-joy emerges without emerging. There seems to be no door opened or closed, just a stream within a stream within a stream. And I am swept up into the images of where I am not, but am; perhaps this is grace or being touched by the divine. Whether this is manifested, an embrace from beyond self, or an embrace by myself alone, makes no matter, for in the “teachings” which are more akin to remembering, I know without boundary and outside the numerical representation of percentages, that there is no right or wrong, or any answers.”

I inserted the photo so you would think the post was over. hehehehehe

Sounds like she is drugged, yes? Come on, come on, be truthful. If you are an Aspie, I can count on your for that.

And I go on, and on, and on….like my experience is the make or break of me. Like if I don’t share this insight, I shall have died inside for not fulfilling my destiny. Please. Cut out the crap, princess-semi-saint!

She continues:

“As I have mentioned before, I recognize this is my experience; I don’t expect anyone to get “me,” or understand “me,” or even want anyone to accept “me.” There is an inner peace I have come to find and any moment I experience attachment, the serenity seemingly vanishes. Thusly, it is far more freeing to release what I want than to release the serenity. It is simple to me. Really. I am on this other side of nowhere, in this space, and I have no desire to slip back to the other space, even though I know all is space. Isn’t that a silly thing? Yes, indeed this all is. That is why I laughed so deeply this morning, uncontrollable spiritual laughing. I chuckled so deeply that the only thing I can compare the intensity to is the extreme polar opposite beyond opposite of weeping deeply. The experience was reminiscent of the moments I have sobbed on my knees or in the fetal position inside my closet begging for rescue from my own self; except, and in this joy-filled weeping of love…”

***

Pausing to sigh, and laugh, and remind you that I (the fun-loving gal) am still here. Hold on, it gets better:

“….I felt so deeply and fully that it far surpasses the deepest I have ever wept. For once the measure of my pain did not equally match my joy. My joy reached tremendous glorious heights. And there in a moment, all of it, all of my life made so much sense. I saw everything, like I had died, but what was flashing before me was instant knowing of the comical joke of being lost for so long. And there wasn’t any sadness or remorse or regret; nothing that didn’t fit into the ring of sublime love and joy. I was a giddy guru celebrating the entire journey of me. All of time stopped and I slipped through my own mind, outside of somewhere of nowhere. I just was. And in this intense being and what felt to be connection, I felt nowhere and everywhere at once. I understood so much so fast, as if a person had lifted open a box to find me and He or She or It was peering down at me with glorious kind eyes and laughing.”
***

YES, it’s me SAM CRAFT…and I have come with a club to smack you on the head!

And she goes on more:

“The remarkable part of the divine laughter was I found myself unable to be afraid of the experience. I was able to ask questions and have answers before the questions were entirely formed. I knew what was happening was from the divine and I knew all was well. I laughed harder, as I thought: “What if I never stop?!” I now understand clearly that I don’t have to endure suffering to connect with my higher power.”

***

You see? Come on, who would you rather sit with at a pub? This me writing, or that me above, who literally is above, floating two-feet off of her stool. I think you would enjoy the other emerging (barging out me), but she gets boring, and stiff, and old so fast. You’d be begging me to stop, like if I have a switch or something. I don’t. Of course you’d likely learn a lot because I have grand flashes of knowing! You’d learn that it hurts when you yawn so much; you’d learn that my face has a freakish way of not being able to stop smiling. You’d learn that it is indeed not an act and that I am either in some trance, taken over by aliens, or, filled with something or another. (Port wine?)

Then I would drone on more. Here, stick some fries in your ears.

“Last night I noticed, as I was playing catch up with responding to lovely souls who leave words for me to delight in,”

***

lol…. I am sorry… but can’t she just say “people”? Okay, carry on….

“I didn’t feel what I used to feel when people responded to me. There wasn’t any evaluation of them or me, of their words, of their intended meaning, of their intention. I just saw beauty. That is it. Just lovely beauty. And I thought how kind of them to reach out and connect; how very kind.”

***

Someone tell SAM she doesn’t have to share EVERYTHING. I already deleted like 30% of her ramble. And still she babbles on and on and on. I bow down to you, oh enlightened all-mighty one.

Again…..

“This morning when I read a few new comments, I found myself at a distinct crossroad. I stepped back and watched myself process. At first I thought, “Well that doesn’t fit what I was feeling when I wrote it.” And then I played out all these ways in which I would have responded to self in the past and to another in the past. I would have wanted to plead or prove my point, or explain, or re-explain, or justify or point out. I would have wanted to prove who I was and how I was. But then with a flash, and a great relief of both physical and spiritual pressure, I realized, yet again, there is NOTHING to prove to me or anyone! I am who I am and that is all. I am a reflection of the person viewing my words and the being I weave within these words. What a person chooses to see is how he or she sees the path before him or her. Not me. It’s not about ME! It’s about everyone else.

(Not me! What a relief.) << that's non-semi-saint talking.

I could then just reflect back to the self inside self or outside self or no self at all…(you see the confusion, and how I still blunder within-hahaha)…that what is written for me, carries NO message at all in the words beyond the emotions and experience I choose to have when I read the message. Each word is my teacher. And then all is reversed. It is me reading their words and choosing what I see to be the path in front of me. They become my teacher. In releasing the judgment, the discernment, the questions, I simply let them teach me. And so I take in the vibration of their words now quite differently, or what seems differently than before. I smile, with this smile that just never seems to fade, and think: “Ah, so that is how you see yourself? And, ah, so this is how you teach me, with your blessings of being.

When I am out in the world, something else has “transitioned.” I had finally received another person fully. There are no questions, only a gentle acceptance. Thoughts of: What a kind person. What a beautiful light. What a dream. What a love.

I have also released attachment to words. I see how every word, no matter the word, can be loved for the word itself and nothing more. Words have no implications on me or the world or anyone. I have the only implication upon self. If a word doesn’t resonate with me, I just sit with the word and what it carries, and I listen to the experience, opening as I am taught. That is all. This is no trick of the mind or game, it just is; like the salmon in the stream, I just move as I am called, up or down or around, with no fear of my destination, but still following the course that either drives me or moves me.

I have been spending quiet time daily, studying different spiritual texts, my favorite at the moment being the gnostic Christian gospels, the Catholic Saints, and Buddhist texts. I also have been listening to my angels throughout the day. I am practicing being in the moment without effort or strain. I am learning more and more about where I am and where I have been without asking or yearning. I have let go of the thoughts of attachments, to need, to anything that is not matched exactly to the serene peace my higher power brings."

***

(not over yet…she ain’t! I think I just did a mini-barf! Tastes like garlic)

“I understand fully that my path is my path, and that anyone and everyone chooses their own path. I have no judgment in how one walks, in how they choose to see me, how they choose to see the choices I am making. I know I am not leading the way. I know each person is his or her own leader. There is no judgment I place on my own journey. I know without doubt that I am a living example of the LIGHT, and in this way, I am the key, just as everyone else is a key. I now view this word Aspergers as a symbolic representation of the cycle of everything. I see the connections within the connections.

I had to latch on and attach to Aspergers. I just had to. Any attempt to pull me out the immersion of Aspergers was met in fierce defense. I am wondering if Aspergers is not indeed a state of limbo. A state of being half-awakened, the beginning of recognizing the illusion of conversation, the illusions of the games people play, the illusion of rules, the illusion of everything. And if perhaps this Aspergers, with this sometimes intense anguish it brings, is not the hugest blessing of all; at least to me, because it thrust me into so much confusion and discomfort that I had the choice to live in fear and pain or to find the answer.

I found the answer in attachment. I was giving the ability to fixate and attach to things. And so I attached to me and my mind and my pain. And I went through it all. I sifted through it. I made a pledge to come out on the other side a transformed person; I did this through attachment. Much like I attached to the word Aspergers. I had to attach to self. I couldn’t bypass this step. I sank into the depth of self, and while doing this took my greatest risks. I risked being exposed, being judged, being wrong, being not liked. I risked all the things in which Aspergers had “made” me fear. I faced my fear.”

*****
Intermission…. in case you need to pee.

*****

Continue:

“This journey has been two-fold, one of embracing Aspergers and of diving into self. I was brave and I conquered the dark night of the soul. The trick is, I didn’t know what I was doing. The entire time I just did. I just let go and did. I allowed myself to be authentic and whole, no matter what state I was in….”

(so true….look at her go)

“… no matter how the other person might perceive me. In this there was torturous hell, repeated doubts, and endless fear. But in this there was freedom, for having faced my demons, they no longer exist. Whether gifts are found in living with the Holy Spirit, walking the path of the Buddhist, connecting to the divine being, or in other elements from the variety of paths to the Light, I see that in Aspergers, or more so specifically, in the traits that make up the manmade concept of Aspergers, I have:

A heart like a child
A longing for the truth
A longing to be gentle and kind
A desire to be the best person I can
The ability to see through games
The ability to step back and be observer of self
The huge capacity for intense studies of any subject of interest
The want to be the best person I can be
The lack of wanting to hurt anyone, to manipulate, or to lie
Compassion for all living things (some objects, too)
An ability to love easily and forgive easily

Indeed, I believe that Aspergers is and was my path to freedom. I also understand fully that attachment and non-attachment are twins. I see a doorway for each and everything I have attached my energy to. I see millions of doors. I see how I had to attach to many things, like “love” interests, and fear, and food, and so on, in order to reach non-attachment, just as I had to attach to Aspergers and myself to un-attach from both. There is a door of attachment. I open the door. I experience actions, emotions, or waking trials/challenges and walk through the tunnel of this specific fear. The tunnel is dark and scary. And as I am walking through this tunnel I face the demons. But I keep walking, keep trudging forward. I do reach the end. I open the closed-door and I am back in the light on non-attachment.

In this way attachment is my tunnel. In this way attachment is my greatest teacher. All along I thought that I had to first release and let go to heal, but what I had to do was let go enough only to face my fear. Now I go through the tunnel in an instant; the dark comes and then the huge light. In taking in the dark and holding the fear, I am simultaneously embraced by the light. Soon the dark is such a small sliver that the light just keeps coming and coming. But My hope now is nothing. I realize I don’t have to keep forcing myself to not attach; instead I allow myself the freedom to attach to anything and everything and watch as I pull my own tentacles off of what I am embracing. It has become so evident that feeding off of a desire is painful and standing in the light is intensely freeing. I can no longer rest as a giant octopus sucking upon the dark side of an underwater rock. I just can’t. It doesn’t resonate. I see myself instantly and think, “No, thanks. Been there, done that. Give me the light.” ”

*****

I forgot to mention, I just paid a fortune for my new retainer, as my teeth shifted back, because I never got a retainer as a teenager and didn’t have an Aspie mom.

SEEEEEEEE I told you, she’s a talker. She is so virtuous and good and loving and kind. Oh, NO!! Am I experiencing split personality??? Stopping myself from looking up characteristics of such a condition.

You know what totally sucks about semi-saint is the fact that she will never ever say one bad thing about me. She won’t even use the word “bad” without something in parenthesis editing her own dull verbiage. Crap! Fricken Crap. I am always going to be the bad guy, without her ever pointing it out! Until she crushes me, or I crush her. And I won’t see her coming, she’ll be so charming and loving and truth-filled and radiating love that I will be wooed by her, just like my husband. I will wag my imaginary tail, shaking my bootie back and forth and just give in. I’ll just slip away.

Is this enlightenment? Because it royally sucks!

This is ALL my teacher’s fault: The Buddhist monk, or nun, or mountain man who lives in the cave, (he is hot and in a flannel shirt; hot as in sexy hot), or whomever was supposed to beam down and help me through this process.

I give up. My hands are in the air. This off-her-rocker-elven-princess who morphs into semi-saint-wannabe needs a proxy-teacher. Anyone up for the job? Anyone? Anyone?

(thank you to the person who shared this song, today!)