Do Not Ask Who I Am, and Do Not Ask Me To Remain the Same.

Change is a funny thing. It scares some of us, intrigues others and can be the cause of great frustration for most. Change that is unexpected usually causes so much upheaval that eventually you find yourself on a totally foreign path; a trajectory so different that at some point you may forget where you even started. On the other hand, deliberate change often seems to result in upheaval that eventually lands you in the same place that you started, only with a different hair colour, apartment, or boyfriend.
It makes me think of the Robert Munsch story, Thomas' Snowsuit.

There can be no doubt that all of us will experience change, for better or for worse. Whether you fight it or embrace it, the end result is often the same. The big difference is the level of joy or misery that you experience during the process and of course, that emotional imprint is what resides and gets re-activated when next you are faced with change.

I have been trying to figure out what change means to my youngest son, who for this blog I have chosen to name Little Fish, or L.F. for short.
According to the wisdom of the Autism experts, people on the Spectrum don't like change. It is too unpredictable, and therefore frightening and unwelcome. Yet, out of all the human beings on this earth, I would guess that Auties experience change more often and are expected to adapt to it on such a regular basis, the rest of us could not even comprehend how seamlessly this occurs several times in a day. Most of us have the ability to exert control over our environment and others with our words and influence. People on the Spectrum however, especially children, having no status, money, and in some cases powers of speech, must continually bend to the wishes and will of those who can choose.
As a parent of an autistic child, I can somewhat relate to this lack of control. Although I have more influence than my son, I feel the fever of searching for answers, connection, acceptance, and aid and find myself exhausted, confused and adrift in a lonely place. Living in the world of Autism is like being inside a kaleidoscope. It is strange and beautiful sometimes, full of constantly changing colours and angles. The mirrors reflect tiny pieces of the real world outside of the narrow scope but they move and get obscured so quickly in the blur of rotating shapes that knowing which is real and which is not becomes impossible.
So the patterns of change become the constant, no matter to which direction the kaleidoscope points. Sometimes, the only way to effect change upon what is in constant flux, is to stop and shut down or keep moving at the same speed and rhythm.
Change may then become same or the whole concept of change becomes irrelevant.