Without my husband I would not be able to dedicated time to my painting, writing, and healing of body, mind, and spirit.
I can spend all day in creation and not do one thing around the house, in regards to cleaning and cooking, and my husband does not complain. He picks up where I left off. He does the dishes, the laundry, shampoos the carpets, and even makes dinner sometimes.
He is so loving to me and a true giver. He expects nothing from me in return.
He has a heart of gold and an amazing mind and spirit. He is one of the smartest people I’ve ever met, with the ability to transition and grow, and to look at his own personal journey and challenges.
He is never conceded and never cruel.
He accepts me unconditionally in all my moods and emotions. He respects my need for space and my tendency to retreat into my own world. He patiently awaits my return.
He holds me when I cry and laughs at my quirks. He reads my blog posts daily, always ready with a compliment or reassurance.
He helps me to see my light and beauty. He tells me I am a genius, that I have the kindest heart of anyone he knows, that I am loving and a good mom, and that I am gorgeous and sexy. He tells me all of his dreams have come true.
My husband is my rock, my knight sent down to protect me. a radiant and dashing earth angel.
I take comfort in his continued dedication and efforts to be the best man he can be.
Without him, I know I wouldn’t be doing my works, I wouldn’t have the time or strength to connect with others. He has provided me with the necessary tools to fulfill my life’s calling and dreams. He has given me the freedom to be myself and to flourish. In return, I accept him unconditionally and cherish him as my dearest friend.
Thank you Dear One for the gift of YOU!
If you’d like to leave a comment: “Thank you Bob!” is a good one.
Post 282 (2= union 8= infinity)
This is a process I went through to paint my concept of love and angels. The first layer of “The Union” includes the green of healing and speaking my truth from the throat chakra. It also represents the breaking down of energetic blockages and releasing the free-flowing energy within me; the blue represents my angels; the yellow my light and the universal light of love. I created this first layer and then continued to create the final piece.
First Layer
This is the final piece, where I have blended all the elements of free-flowing energy, connection, angels, and the light of love.
The Union by Samantha Craft
Here is an emotional process I went through during the past three days. The first represents the darkness and inner angst. The second a layering over the darkness, a release of chaos, a freeing of self. The third, the final composition: The Birth of Light.
Layer One: The darkness
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Layer two: The chaos and release….freedom awaken
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Birth of Light
Art Therapy has been a wonderful avenue to release much of the inner passion and emotion burning inside of me. I continue to feel light, love and glowing. Even in times of my greatest sorrow, when I am sobbing to my angels, I feel loved, centered, and right where I am meant to be. Once again, this weekend, a person I haven’t seen in a long while said to me, “Wow. What has happened to you? You are glowing!” She was giggling and kept repeating the words. I am continually reminded of my transition and reaping the benefits of my hard soul work. I am both encouraged and excited for the days ahead. While I still have brief moments of fear and doubt, they are quickly diminished by thoughts of my angels, the light, and all of you. You are my earth angels, and continue to set me free each day. Thank you and Bless You.
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A special thank you to my friend Lisa for encouraging me to paint and for my friend Amy for opening up my eyes to the gifts before me.
The greatest weakness of most humans is their hesitancy to tell others how much they love them while they’re alive.
~ Ralph Waldo Emerson
I Wish It So
I choose love. I promote love. I radiate love.
I choose honesty. I promote honesty. I radiate honesty.
I choose hope. I promote hope. I radiate hope.
I choose leadership over victimization.
I choose knowledge over ignorance.
I choose to vanquish all negative thoughts.
I choose to reflect the goodness of the world.
When I feel lost I will point the way for someone else.
When I feel alone I will assist those in isolation.
When I sense hopelessness and despair, I will rise out of the ashes of my own tears and shine brightly.
I refuse to be anything less than authentic, genuine, and real.
I refuse to believe that happiness exists in anything or anyone.
I accept I am enough, and that where I am is where I need to be.
When all about me voices are tarnishing and raping the beauty of life, I shall stand up strong in my worth.
I shall not falter; I shall not fail: for these words no longer exist in my vocabulary.
My voice is my truth and my truth my voice.
What is spoken is from source and heart alone, and what is left unsaid I release into the abyss to be transformed into stars.
I, myself, am fiery passion. I shall not allow shame to shadow my cause; nor shall I allow my cause to shadow my passion.
I am in completion entirely, perfection in my mind, body, and soul.
All else deemed wrong or incorrect is an illusion.
I surround myself with people who love me and choose to see me as a source of beauty.
I surround myself with the innocent of heart and warriors of purpose. A purpose that is not singular onto themselves, but collective for the good of the all.
I quench my insatiable desire for more, knowing I have enough.
I stop in my steps, still within, and acknowledge the blessings around me.
I know who I am, what I am, and why I am.
I refuse to let anyone else create me into another.
I shall not fail myself, nor my sister or brother. When I follow the light, I cannot fail.
I sacrifice myself as a vessel, knowing my sacrifice further grows my love and my light.
I cannot be vanquished or put out. There is nowhere I can be placed where I will not shine. There is no punishment that shall whip the light out of me, and equally no man to extinguish my flame.
I stand, whether alone or together, as an equal to my fellow beings, in the line of any happenstance.
I trust my road is paved with the intention of wholeness and the gifts of peace.
I trust my truth to be my guide.
I shall not be weak and suffer, for there is nothing I cannot transform into joy.
I am but clay, and I choose moment by moment to mold myself into a shape of glory.
Where my edges were once sharp, now they are dull.
Where whispers once haunted, now there is silence.
Where distaste erupted, now there is sweetness.
I see no ill will inside of another. I see no blame. I see no wrong. I see only myself standing as observer.
My scope is neither limiting nor vast; my vision is only as I wish. If I choose to see the narrowness of man, then that is what shall appear before me. If I choose to see the limitlessness of love, then this is what shall bathe me.
When I splash in your goodness, I too splash in my own.
Together we are united; yet even in times of distance and separation, I remain with you.
For I have carved you into the vessel of myself; each blade inflicted so that I may carry you in times of isolation. I do not ask that you carry me in return, but that you only let yourself shine, so that I may be warmed within your love.
If there ever comes a time I am unable to answer you with warmth, trust that I am cold, and offer me comfort.
If there ever comes a time I am unable to answer you with laughter, trust that I am dancing with sorrow, so that I may emerge reborn with further joy.
Trust that I am here to love you for no other reason than to love.
Trust there is nothing you can do or say that will tarnish my love for you.
For I have seen my beauty, and know this beauty was birthed in you.
You are my form doubled and multiplied. You are blessed and my blessing.
There is no end and no beginning; you are infinitely adored and beseeched for your goodness.
When you feel depleted, ask yourself whom or what you have given your power to. And return this power onto yourself ten-fold. Believe you are of worth and feed your own soul so you may be nurtured and whole in your journey of light.
Step outside the fantasy of tomorrow and yesterday, and breathe in the moment of now, for there is nothing outside of this moment.
If ever there comes a time that you are in doubt, reach out your hand and know I am waiting to take hold, to touch what is both me, and not me, an intricate creation that both lives and breathes within and without me.
I am nothing but your sister, your brother, but in this I am everything. And as I am everything, so thusly be you.
Do not bow your head in the misery of the world, instead lift up your eyes to the miracles of life. Search for me in the echoes of the valleys, in the sunrise and sunset, in the flight and in the fallen. Search for me, and I will answer.
There is no one before me more worthy than you, and no one else less than you and your needing. For we are filled with hope when we recognize we exist as hope.
In everything we do, be hope.
In everything you are, be beauty.
You have the power to change all for the betterment of creation.
I took the ladies out today. Just the three of us. Me and my boobs.
Can you see my reflection? 🙂
Yep. Squishing-under-the-glass-time. Also know as Mammogram. A word which makes me think of screaming for my mamma and grandma, all in one heated breath! Yelp.
I like to smile thinking of a very special machine built for men, where they can go and get their balls squished under glass and be man-handled. Not that I don’t love and appreciate men. I only say this as I believe this idea might provide equal ground and assist bridging the barriers between the male and female gender. Plus, the image is really fun to picture in my mind.
For some reason I think this would be a good theme song for men when they go for their ball exam:
Don’t ask me to analyze. It’s the beat, I suppose. No pun intended.
The old me, unlike the new and vastly transitioned me, would FREAK out about lab tests of any type. The old me put off this particular boob-squishiness for a bit, all out of fear. It’s not so much the test itself. It doesn’t hurt at all; it’s quite fast; and the technician had warm hands.
I freak about the time in between: the waiting period. That’s what I freak out about in life in general, that unknown zone. I’m not good with unknowns. Or at least I used to be no good. Now I’m pretty dang functional, borderlining on fabulous.
Today I focused on the positive. I didn’t allow any thoughts inside that weren’t beneficial. I imagined that my boobs, my lady friends, we were going to a party. I listened to Dancing Queen by Abba all the way to the appointment. Oh, what the heck. Here is the song again.
I sang at the top of my lungs. And I didn’t care who was watching. I hoped I made them smile. Or think: What is that girl so happy about?
If they’d asked, I would have said, I’m putting my ladies on stage, out in the spotlight. I’m bringing them out to PARTY.
That was and is my attitude. I make it so. I made this a positive experience.
To keep my spirits lifted and to protect my bubble of love from outsiders who might unknowningly spiritually intrude upon my awesome zone of energetic space, I used all sorts of protective devices. I have my lovely nana’s rosary in one pocket, and in the other pocket a stone a special friend found for me on the beach. I sprayed myself with a protection spray made of various natural herbs. I even dabbed on my Tibetan Holy water, blessed by Buddhist monks. I put a drop of olive and garlic tincture on my tongue—energy vampires begone!!! I made my hair look lovely, and lips inviting. We were going out on the town, half-naked, after all.
I wore purple to represent my third-eye chakra. I grounded myself and got super comfy in my big tan poncho. And I donned my fabulous amber healing necklace. At the last minute I grabbed my lady’s out purse, the one with the glittery sequence.
I listened to my inner voice all morning. And she guided me. First suggestion: Limit the caffeine. So I ordered a decaf peppermint mocha coffee and water for hydration. I forgot my water, but two people, and older man and an employee, came running outside after me to give me my water. I felt special.
I drove to my destination, taking an exit I don’t usually take, and trusting my intuition, found a new short cut. I arrived super early, and had ample time to focus on the message on my bumper sticker
And I rubbed the thick moss off a stoic tree and talked to him about his beauty. And then this stud muffin tree beckoned me over. I couldn’t resist him. Big HUG!
I took lots of photos, but my phone wouldn’t work. That’s okay. I did manage to capture a little detail I added to my entrance paperwork. A little extra love, never hurts.
You are missing out on the photo of me in my gown and a great shot of the boob-crusher machine.
I talked the technicians ears off. Go figure? She had to remind me to keep my mouth still while she was clicking the device to capture the rare images of my glorious ladies. I asked her if it hurt woman with small boobs more. She kind of grinned, and said, “No, it’s just different.” I wondered for a bit, what that meant. Then wondered if she thought that I thought I had big boobs and was bragging. I almost explained, but was distracted by the way my flesh appeared all flattened and spread. I remarked about the overall comfort of the machine and the improvement in technology. And of course, I verified twice when my results would be available.
I did mention about my Aspergers and my son’s Aspergers. It’s kind of what I do.
Turns out someone she works with has a son that just got diagnosed with Aspergers. I offered out my phone number to give to her friend as a gesture of support–cause that’s kind of what I do, too.
But no! WAIT…..
My technician got a little bit happy, and instead of taking my number, she asked me to return to the dressing area and wait there. She specified, “Wait here. Get dressed, and I’ll be back.” I thought it was funny that she told me to get dressed. I wasn’t about to meet a stranger half-naked.
Minutes later, I hear two ladies outside my curtain whispering: “Do you think she is dressed, yet?” And I’m thinking, behind my curtain: This is the oddest way I’ve ever entered a room before to meet someone for the first time.
I open the curtain, swishhhh, all dressed, and feeling like I’m the wizard in the Wizard of Oz, popping out with my hand extended. We hit it off, the kind lady technician and me; and before we are too deep in conversation, another lady nearby pops out of her curtain, still in her gown, not yet finished dressing. She says: “Me. Me, too. Give me your number and name. My son has Aspergers.”
So there we are laughing and talking in the middle of the mammogram dressing room, so much so that we had to hush our giggles. I even took their photo, with the one still in her gown! It was for my blog, I said. My Aspergers itself pretty much giving me the liberty to do and say anything, so I said teasingly to myself.
I left just so very happy and pleased.
My only intention entering that radiology department today was to make connections, to brighten someone’s day, and to make a difference. That’s what me and my ladies set out to do. All dolled up and out on the town, we just wanted to touch someone with our love.
^the song my grandpa’s spirit sang for two days to the seer, until he met with me, and figured out the message was for me. See Yesterday’s post if you are confused. Or take a nap. Or just nod like you understand, like I frequently do when others are talking and I haven’t got a clue.^
Now I’m going to listen to this song over and over. Me and my ladies, we feel like a good cry:
….. To make you feel my love. Hopeless romantic at heart.
Fifteen years ago, when I was in my late-twenties, I heard my angels; they told me: “You are going to write your story. You are going to write to heal others and yourself. But it won’t be for a long time. You still have a lot to go through. You will not use your real name and you will not make money. This is your gift.”
A year before that, a seer told me: “The best part of your life will begin in your early forties, when half of your life is over. Until then your life will be very hard. Your life career will change, and I see you in front of many people teaching and touching people all over the world.”
Eight years ago, during a powerful vision, I was told to write my story to heal others and to heal myself. I was told I would not be writing for profit. That I was not to make money or this would take away from the healing. I was told to start writing. I fell asleep and dreamt I was a giant oak tree, and people were gathered around me in unity celebrating and crying. They were healing through me, through my journey. When I opened my Bible, after I woke up, the Book fell open to the passage of the tree on the hill and the prophet. I began writing that day.
Seven years ago, a seer told me: “Everyday You Write the Book, the spirit of your grandfather is here singing this song. You will write and your words will reach people in a profound way, and you will bring healing to the world. It will touch people in a way you never imagined.”
Two years ago people began to remark on the healing energy surrounding me and of my “glow.”
Last year, a seer told me: “You are going to write. You are going to teach. You are going to reach people, and help them to heal.”
Having been told in several ways my destiny, there was definitely many times I felt inadequate, and many other times I felt I was insane.
There were times I pleaded to God to make my passion to heal the world stop.
Times I pleaded not to see and know so much.
I wanted a normal life.
I wanted the simple.
Still, after the vision of the oak tree, I spent everyday for a year, (except one day), writing. The end result was a release of so much negative energy and past wounds that I sank into a deep depression.
I cursed the heavens for what they had ‘made’ me do, and for the resulting failures. My writing wasn’t up to par. My skills were mediocre at best. After a year of tears and sweat, there was still so much more work to do.
I took a year off. Not planning to write ever again. The prophesies and my angels were clearly mistaken, and I was surely crazy.
The third year I was called again, and spent months redrafting my first writings. Still no luck. No one would look at my work. No publisher, at least.
But still this longing. I was supposed to write. I had to write. The second draft was not one of sorrow, but one of rage. I was so angry at my mother and for my past. I spent months in isolation and pushing others away.
I rested, almost another year, before writing again. The third draft was magic. My heart sang. The anger and sorrow released. And there was a lovely healing rhythm and love to my writing. The third draft was of forgiveness. By the end, when my manuscript was done, a large part of my past was healed.
Still no audience, though. No way to share my works.
I let it go. I’d done all I could. A part of me gave up. A part of me thought everything was just a coincidence, and that I only heard my angels to make myself feel special. I cried over the loss of my calling. And I mourned a part of me. Primarily my ego.
It wasn’t until this year that I began to share some of those writings and much new writing through this blog..
I hadn’t realized that just like my grandfather had sung those many years back: Everyday she writes the book.
I had absolutely no idea I would be writing for an audience any larger than a handful of people. Mostly, I wrote for me. I wasn’t intending to heal or help anyone, but myself. I’d let go completely of my calling, at least in regards to healing others through writing.
Slowly, through the months, I began to see that what I had been told all along was coming to fruition—the reaching others around the world, the different name, the no need or desire for profit.
The last seer I saw, a little over a year ago, she said I had the gift of creating a safe haven for people. I was a guardian of sorts. I didn’t understand then.
Remarkably, in the last months, through this blog, I have healed more than I ever thought imaginable. Not just at a physical level, but at a spiritual level, and even at a cellular place.
My husband and I both agree that the light in me has returned, a light I think I lost about the age of thirteen, when the fear of what life entailed set in.
Age Thirteen
At times, I truly feel like I went away for a couple decades, just slipped out because life was too much. I don’t know who took my place, but it wasn’t me. I look back at this woman I was, and I don’t recognize her. I truly don’t. I love her. I know she was in essence a part of me. But she wasn’t me.
This is Eleven Years ago. My son with ASD and Me
I know the light returned because despite the trials of my life, I never gave up hope. I never let the world destroy my heart. I never stopped loving. I never stopped believing I could make a difference. Even when I wanted to die, my angels led me forward by reminding me to: Think of the Children. I know that in addition to my three sons (all birthed on a Sunday) that they meant the children of the world.
I’ve known since I was a very young child I would be called to be a healer. Probably at the age of four, when I stopped eating lamb as I didn’t have the heart for it. Probably again when I was nine, and I hid in the bushes weeping as I couldn’t comprehend the vastness of the universe and the depths of human suffering. Probably too, when as a child I would sit with people in convalescent homes by myself, just so I could be near the lonely at heart. I knew I was a healer when I became a teacher, and later when I served as an advocate for children with special needs. I knew too, when I began to write.
What I didn’t know is the profound effect the healing would have on my own life and journey. I didn’t know how deeply I would be blessed.
Today I woke up frightened. I felt like I regressed. I began to cry. The fear was back. I couldn’t see a way out.
All about me the walls closed in. I became immobile, unable to do anything but feel and respond to the fear. My body shut down. I had pain everywhere. I was taking on the world, taking on the fear, taking on the dark.
I couldn’t stop.
I was brought back to a place I sat months ago. To a place I don’t wish to return.
But this time something was different. I had another me. A stronger me. And she was there holding me and cheering me on.
She shook me out of my place. She made me reach out. She made my light shine. She led me back to the amazing place I created on a social network site, filled with the most beautiful, caring of souls.
A safe place.
And I reached out.
I wrote: Please send me positive vibes….not doing well today physically. Frustrated. Thanks so very much. xoxoxo Brain fog, too. ♥ love to you all.
Within moment, before me, people reached out in all forms and ways from all over the world.
I received messages of:
Hearts
Wind from the Valley
Positive Vibes
Positive Energy
Hugs
Music
Lots of Love
Sorry you are having a rough time
Looking North
Much love Sweetheart
Big Bear Hugs
Loving healing bubbles of light
Dark Chocolate
Smiley Faces
Mashed Potato
Hope
Within a few minutes my pain dissipated, my fear decreased ten-fold, and I was able to breathe again. I was able to live again, and to find myself.
I was only lost for a moment, just long enough to be reminded that I am never ever going to be alone again.
Just long enough to know that I have created through vulnerability, honest, and pureness of heart the most wonderful place that draws to it the most wonderfulest of souls.
If ever there was to be a people I’d want to cherish, it would be these people. For they face challenges upon challenge. They face ridicule, displacement, misery, isolation, worry, dread, and pain on a daily basis. Their days are never easy. Their minds always searching.
And still they shine; they shine like no others, giving and loving unconditionally.
They have freed me. As have the people who read my words. And the people who write to me. The people who hold me in love and in thought. The people who thank me. They have freed me. You have freed me.
If there is one thing I could tell you, I would say this: Be you. Be the best you that you can be. Shine your light so brightly that your own soul sings out in celebration. And then watch how the light follows you, how the world unfolds, how your richest and purest dreams become the steppingstones to glory.
I Adore Myself so Much I Could Hug and Kiss ME All Over
Aspie: Why I am So Awesome?
Take a Chance on Me…PLEASE!!!
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Why I Adore ME:
1) My super-sized brain that enables me to be in anytime and anyplace with the blink of my pretty eye.
2) The capacity I have to entertain myself in thought over the most seemingly simplistic ideas, such as how well do I actually know the back of my hand, and am I the only one that isn’t familiar with the back of their hand, and am I more familiar with the lens of my eyeball from which I see, even though I can’t see my eyeball when I’m looking out in the world, and is my eyeball invisible? How can I see straight through my eyeball without seeing any of it at all?
3) My intense humor that makes my internal organs giggle, while producing this devious, I-am-so-radical-and-fantastic grin across my blushing face.
4) My ability to laugh at myself, over and over and over again, and my ability to point out my bazar weirdness so my friend, or neighbor, or complete stranger can laugh about me, too. Even though I know secretly they are laughing at themselves, because I am a reflection of them. And if I point that out, I like to watch their faces turn sheet white.
5) My huge empathy for everyone and everything. My urge to get out of my van and find out why the man crossing the road is homeless and to fix him all up, like in the movies. And to turn him into a freakishly charming prince, and ride off in his shopping cart into the distant sunset, all in a matter of moments, inside my brain, while stopped at the downtown stoplight.
6) My urge to save the world with my ever-building (secret hidden) super powers.
7) My butt. It’s just plain cute.
8) My need to talk to safe-looking strangers, and to compliment them, so I can see them smile and their eyes light up. The expressions I magically produce on others’ faces when my compliment is unexpected and downright odd. “Oh your house is so big and lavish and fantastic. Is this your dream house? Is this your dream come true? I wish I had a house like this. It’s so perfect. Did it cost a lot of money?” pause… “Oh, did I forget to introduce myself.”
9) My ability to have simultaneous sensations. While this isn’t the best: sticky, bitter taste in mouth, jagged bottom tooth puncturing tongue, hard chair penetrating butt, shoulders stinging from typing, throat a bit scratchy, ears hurting from hum of fridge, airplane flying overhead, clock ticking….This is fantastic: moss the brightest magical green on trees, leaves dancing and spinning in front of me as they float off the branches, spider web glistening and singing in beauty, dog smiling at me, feet crunching the leaves, rain tickling tongue, birds singing in unison: a mystical choir, flapping of wings, insects leaping, squirrels pitter-pattering and playing hide-and-seek, wind lapping hair, warmth of wool hat, heaviness of thick winter coat, comfort of wool socks, swishing of pants, the sound of my own song, the sigh, the deep breath, the inhale of fresh crisp forest air, my pulse, my heart, my stomach, my skin, my being, my total beauty connected with the world.
10) My ability to be remarkably insecure and overly confident at the exact same instant. Especially concerning my wit, charm, intelligence, and hair.
11) My need for approval while constantly denying the need for approval, as you simply don’t exist outside of my limited perception and this created illusion.
12) My bouncy spirit. No matter how low or how high, I’m always bouncing inside with the thought of getting to know you and be your friend, and learn everything about you, once you have read my blog and can recite my entire life story, so you can relate everything about you back to me, and thusly keep me the center of attention, so I know I exist somewhere inside the illusion you’ve created, because the thought of being an invisible empty space, as is clearly feasible when considering the vast universe between my spinning molecules, puts me into a state of hyper-awareness of the need to validate my existence.
13) The fact that I’m uncommon and could never ever be common and ordinary, as hard as I tried, except for the fact that Nerd and Geek are coming into the mainstream fashion; so I might feasibly become the norm, my non-ordinariness becoming ordinary; that leads me to believe I need to create another part of me so I can maintain my uniqueness before society tries to suck it out of me. Perhaps I will sprout wings or let my antennae grow…or reveal my secret lizard tongue!
14) My want to use made up words that make sense to me, and the knowledge that every word has been invented by someone, so that no words are real anyhows.
15) My ability to see patterns everywhere, to solve complex riddles while I’m sleeping, and to wake in the middle of the night with an entire script in my head that I know without a doubt I have to share with the world or I will have not fulfilled my mission on earth!
16) The ability to be entirely ME, and to see that ME is constantly in transition, that ME is subjective.
17) The way coffee turns me into an unstoppable engine of achievement (inside my head.)
18) The way I can open the number of my chocolate advent calendar in December, eat the chocolate, feel the smooth tingle go down my throat and chill of pleasure up my spine, sigh deeply, and feel like I’ve actually accomplished something for the day.
19) How I can predict and time my bodily functions and hormones. “Bitch today; check in tomorrow.”
20) Just the grandness of knowing there are other people who get me, and the giddiness I am able to feel in knowing that we are all so fricken insane that it brings saneness back into the ball field, all redressed in the ultimate coolness of different.
^^^ The song I danced to in the sauna over and over today, while I was staring at my goldfish, and thinking I’m on the other side of glass just like them; I wonder if they think I am a fish. Maybe I am a fish. Then I clucked like a chicken for absolutely no reason at all.
I have not had the chance to ask my husband if this is socially acceptable or not. So I will take a chance and make a disclaimer: My gigantic over-sized lizard tongue is not meant to be sexual in any way.
Everyday Asperger's 