The idea is to write about compassion; that's something I've learned more about in the last 4 years than I thought possible, living with autistic twins and their possibly autistic father. I don't like the textbook definition of compassion, though, it's the "sympathetic pity" part that gets me.
Compassion, in my mind, is being able to think about how what you're doing or saying is affecting others, to put yourself in their shoes and consider how they might feel. Compassion is putting aside your own selfishness for a moment and caring about the rest of humanity. The world could certainly use a little (or a lot) more compassion.
I don't often write about Pricklypants in a positive light, and that sincerely needs to change. In the last four years he has grown, and while it may be slow-going, as with our children - all progress should be celebrated.
Pricklypants has learned so much about #compassion from our boys, and probably myself. He's never been the type to think about how his words or actions might affect others. Recently, he's been advocating more for himself and for our family, speaking up when someone uses that word or speaks unkindly about those with intellectual disabilities. He's 23 years old and learning compassion, a little bit at a time, starting with the core of his heart - his children.
A little rough around the edges, okay, a lot rough around the edges, Pricklypants is not everyone's cup of tea. Sometimes he's not even my cup of tea. There are days when just hearing him breathe makes me want to punch walls (because I would never physically harm him - as my friend The Snarky Hippie reminded us on her personal page, domestic violence is never okay, and making it into a joke helps perpetuate the cultural norm that it is okay for women to be violent towards men).
I've always been a compassionate person; I used to be chock full of empathy, so much so that I would walk into a room and my mood would change with the atmosphere. And I have a soft heart and hate to see people suffer. Pricklypants is a bit more selfish, but he's learning and growing, and that's what really matters.
I used to be the type of person who would hold all the negative stuff in, not wanting it to affect others. That changed when I got pregnant - now, if I have something to say, I'll say it. Compassion be damned. I'm working on getting back to that sweeter, more forgiving version of myself, but I also know that I will need some of this armor for many years to come. #AutismParenting is tough.
Our families, in particular, lack compassion for Pricklypants - probably in large part because for the first part of our relationship, I lacked compassion for Pricklypants. When you get pregnant unexpectedly, and you never wanted kids in the first place, you might be a little bitter. And you might take that out on your partner.
Compassion isn't something that many people have had for Pricklypants because they see his behaviors as just that, behaviors, rather than symptoms of an underlying issue, most notably autism. He doesn't have an official diagnosis, but he fits the bill. For that matter, so do I.
Every day I watch him, and I watch the twins, and I see the similarities, and then I look in the mirror and it all pieces together. Our children are a compilation of the best and the worst of ourselves, and sometimes that makes us their biggest cheerleaders, and other times it brings us to expect more of them than we reasonably should. They need more compassion, because the movement begins at home and spreads like wildfire as we send our children out into the world to sprinkle their own compassion around.
I know I'm guilty of placing unreasonable expectations on those around me because I, myself, am completely capable of that, whatever that is. I suppose I've always lacked a compassion for those less intelligent than myself, at least that is what my elementary principal told my mother. That's not it, though, and if you know me at all, you know that I'm a kind, loving person. I just get impatient when I know something and feel someone else should also know. It's not intentional behavior, and I have been more careful to try to filter that, because compassion.
Having autistic twins has expanded my compassion, however. My impatience with them does flare up, I mean, seriously, they can be incredibly frustrating. But my patience these days outweighs my impatience, and I'm working every day to remind myself to see things from their point of view, to have compassion for the things they struggle with, and the same goes for their father.
Compassion in a world of perfectly imperfect souls is necessary; tolerance and kindness and patience are all necessary if the world hopes to keep surviving. The longer the bad seems to outweigh the good in the world, the longer human beings continue to disregard each others' humanity, the longer we all struggle, the harder the road is for all of us. A little compassion can spread a long way - it starts with you, and it's never too late.
