That was beautiful. We're all struck by different things; I especially liked the opening lines from the poem by Lucille Clifton:
the girl fits her body in
to the space between the bed
and the wall
This feels like such an autistic thing to do. I used to do this. I'm reminded of Temple Grandin's cattle press. It felt safe and somehow grounding; I can't describe it but as the kids say, "IYKYK."
I’m sitting with this: “At your leisure,” in its roundness, expects the loops my neurodivergent brain demands and creates a buffer so the spirals of my disabled body are accounted for.
This is exactly the sentence I came to comment about. Rose: thank you. I wrote this sentence on a post-it note and attached it to my computer monitor. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
This is beautiful. I love the picture of roundness and reclining instead of bending over backwards.
"The things I do to calm myself and bring order to a world of overload can be interpreted as micro-managing (to) others." I have been struggling at work because so many of my coworkers do not pay attention to the details of back of the ambulance cleanliness and supply like I'd like. I've spent the last year trying to untangle how much of this is PTSD, how much is simply 20 years of experience, and how much is me trying to put order into the chaos so that my body can keep doing this job that I love so much.
This was so good. Thank you, Rose. I definitely need to reread this one.
That was beautiful. We're all struck by different things; I especially liked the opening lines from the poem by Lucille Clifton:
the girl fits her body in
to the space between the bed
and the wall
This feels like such an autistic thing to do. I used to do this. I'm reminded of Temple Grandin's cattle press. It felt safe and somehow grounding; I can't describe it but as the kids say, "IYKYK."
I’m sitting with this: “At your leisure,” in its roundness, expects the loops my neurodivergent brain demands and creates a buffer so the spirals of my disabled body are accounted for.
This is exactly the sentence I came to comment about. Rose: thank you. I wrote this sentence on a post-it note and attached it to my computer monitor. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
This is beautiful. I love the picture of roundness and reclining instead of bending over backwards.
"The things I do to calm myself and bring order to a world of overload can be interpreted as micro-managing (to) others." I have been struggling at work because so many of my coworkers do not pay attention to the details of back of the ambulance cleanliness and supply like I'd like. I've spent the last year trying to untangle how much of this is PTSD, how much is simply 20 years of experience, and how much is me trying to put order into the chaos so that my body can keep doing this job that I love so much.
This was lovely Rose. I relate to so much of what you wrote, and I love the invitation of at your leisure.
whewwwwwww this is such a gift. gonna bathe in this as I'm getting ready to teach this semester.