From Nothing, Something

 
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If you read Presence, you know I had been taking my son to the park every day as a way to get both of us some exercise, be out in nature (this park connected to desert trails), and pass the time. It’s a long day for a person with autism when they are used to a certain routine which involves leaving the house. We created a new routine centered around walking and hiking at the park and it was working beautifully. Sometimes dad would take him and I would scramble up a mountain by myself or take a nap.

Suddenly it became very hot here in Phoenix, Arizona. The last couple of visits to the park were uncomfortable and mostly spent sitting on a concete wall under the one and only shade tree.

Now what?

I could not come up with an alternative for exercising out of the house. The gym he normally goes to, closed. Indoor malls, closed. Treadmill in our house, a possibility but not the greatest option when Kyle is practically scratching at the door to leave the house each morning. It certainly wouldn’t fill the morning or give him the mileage his body craves.

No solution. Nothing. Impossible dilemma.

Until… I happened to mention this to one of Kyle’s caregivers. She has been in his life for nine years and creatively helped resolve many situations with Kyle. Her idea was to walk in the covered parking garage at the mall. Brilliant! She had done this before a few times, but not for years. And now that the mall was closed, it would be almost completely free of traffic.

The parking garage walks have been going beautifully. One to three miles a day and there is even a rock near the entrance for perching and resting. We walk hills on the ramp up to the second level which is even more deserted than the first. And mall security is driving around looking out for us… ha ha! While this is not the ideal and it’s pretty filthy in there (car and bird filth), it has been a wonderful expedient that meets Kyle’s needs for the time being.

I share this because I was reminded once again, that wisdom has the opportunity to pop up when we don’t know what to do.

When I was throwing an internal temper tantrum about lack of indoor places to walk, resisting “what is”, I was not able to hear anything. Too much static in the system. And I hated not knowing what to do. It’s fascinating to me how we humans become so uncomfortable in the unknown, which is actually the breeding ground for fresh solutions.

From nothing, something.

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When my husband asked me recently how we would know when it was time for our caregivers to come back to work here with Kyle, my first response was “I don’t know.” However, it was this question that sparked me to look in the direction of an answer.

At first, nothing came. Then I began to overthink. Nothing lurking in those files. Not too surprising. My answer was not to be found in the back and forth, up and down, all over the place news media. And definitely not amongst panic or fear. My answer was going to spring from a quiet, emptier place within.

“Sit with it” is one of my favorite solutions and answers to any dilemma that doesn’t require immediate response or action. So I sat. I waited for my stirred up state of mind to settle. Eventually, what I came to see was that there won’t be a time that feels like the “right” time or a set of criteria that tells me when to have our caregivers return. I needed to look to my intuition for an answer.

When I saw that, the answer seemed obvious and simple. I knew it was time to bring the caregivers back to our home. As soon as possible.

From nothing, something.

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And finally, the picture above is a plumeria plant we had put in a few months ago when we changed our landscaping. When it was planted, it was winter, and there were just a few leaves on it. They soon fell off and for several weeks, two scraggly leaves remained. We were warned ahead of time it would get pretty bare but then green up in the spring. For what seemed like forever, nothing “appeared” to be happening. I couldn’t even see buds where leaves might actually grow, never mind any sort of flower.

A few weeks ago, it got warmer and leaves began to sprout almost before my eyes. A lot of them. Then some sort of funny looking buds started forming. I wasn’t sure what to expect until about a week ago, the most beautiful flowers began blooming on this previously naked plant. Nature knows what it’s doing even when I can’t see it.

From nothing, something.

 
gayle nobel