It is thought by some, that Autism renders the soul without ego. Living in the id – or emerging infantile ego state – of base needs and Freudian explanations over the lack of “social conscience”.
The id of my son:
Social conscience, for my adult son diagnosed on the spectrum at the age of 3 1/2 years old, be dammed. He slurps, burps or bumps into people on the street without a thought. Ever mindful of hygiene, taking two showers a day, abusing the deodorant and shampoo, he still refuses to shave his beard. Looking like a wanna be bearded Amish man – his face fuzz is just NOT manly – but he doesn’t care. An extended hand to shake receives a wag of the finger, no hands touching. Awkward? Yes. It’s all in the getting used to part of knowing him.
The ego of my son:
So. You want to talk about works of art and their makers. Discuss creations by masters of pop or surreal nature. He’s on it and engaged. Working with his new job counsellor today, a charming lady – he’s met his perfect ying/yang match. She’s creative, happy and does not hide her obsession for colorful pens….all nestled in clay mugs in a row across her desk.
Lively discussion, complete with true admissions from the young man, he paints his future out loud like a masterpiece. Can’t name the exact voodoo his counsellor possesses – but she is in possession of a certain kind of magic for sure. The conversation drifts into the nuts and bolts of the work involved, she turns to me and my son tunes out.
He retreats into the conference room. The walls littered with quotes and phrases of encouragement and an oversized white board. A blank and handy canvas, just ready for his ink. Picking up the first dry erase pen (no asking, just assuming it’s okay) he starts a new drawing . She quickly finds and hands him another box of more colors and shades from her extensive collection. Just like my son, never missing a beat.
THIS is going to be fun……
~ Wendy Frye