Wednesday, 4 October 2017

How I've Almost Dissolved My Storage Unit

This is the secret to how I've almost completely cleared out my storage unit. And yes, in case you were wondering, I am in evil competition with the guy from over at Zenhabits. I shall win.

About 3.5 months ago I made the decision in less than a day to move out of my last 'permanent' residence (permanent meaning about four months and that I'd paid a bond). I was set to save $400, in case you're wanting justification (there were a host of other reasons too).

I called a taxi and at that point had to cart my stuff in three wrist-breaking loads out to his car (the meter was going up).

Now, only about 14 weeks on, I believe I could do it in one load.

My secret has been this. Every few days, think of what I want to throw out, and do it.

I realised that since I'd decided to spend until at least November in backpackers, all that bedding was null and void. It's pretty cheap to go opshopping for new bedding, and really wasn't worth holding onto.

Then there were two suitcases. I'd picked up one from the hostel that I was using to live out of. Why have another two? To the free bin at the hostel they went.

An assortment of books- since I can go to any library at any time, most books weren't worth holding onto. Granted, there are a few special ones and I'll still got these, which I'll insert nicely into my suitcase on my next visit.

Random things- including a three compartment lunchbox container that I never used, dream catchers, other useless furnishings... down to the op-shop. Someone will love em.



Today I’ve been thinking about how I’m innocent
How this page is a blank page
And all my spirit which was too scared to speak
Now pours forth in torrents too numerous to keep
Count of
How my soul, which had shied into darkness
Now springs alive as rainbows.

How I Smile. 

How I Love.

The Fun Parts Of ASC

Being autistic can actually be fun. Or it can be once you know that you're autistic and have it confirmed.
I now suddenly feel a lot more freedom to make the choices I have always needed to make. Some of their choices bring guilt, sure, especially the ones over relationships. But a lot of choices bring a sense of excitement. Going more towards veganism, thinking about how to live without visits to the supermarket, embracing minimalism to the zillionth degree. I feel that I suddenly have the freedom to be the complete social non-conformist that I am. It's no wonder I've ended up living in a backpackers. Backpackers are fun (mostly).
I can finally embrace some of my quirks. Today, as usual, I saved all my washing until I had nothing left in order to save money. This meant that I walked around the hostel dressed in a bikini and a shawl. I also walked across the road and onto the beach like that, but the hostel manager joked that if I went up the street it would be "togs, togs, undies." I can laugh at my overwhelm sometimes. Like today, I locked myself out of the room twice in one morning (No one knew about the second time because I had left the back door open and crept around through the garden to get in).
I can fully invest in my obsessions. And yes, in case you hadn't guessed, one of those obsessions is writing.

The Ultimate Compliment

Yesterday I was paid the ultimate compliment, in my book. It sent me so high, that I went to sleep smiling, something I haven't done in a long time (in case you needed the dreary reminder). It was in fact two compliments of the same nature, one following the other. You're probably wondering by now, "What was it, what was it?" Well, usually women might like to be complimented on their hair or their clothing or something like that, all of which make me feel quite awkward to be honest. But this compliment made me glow, inside and out. It sent me soaring. Because it was something so true to me.

So earlier, in the evening, a young lady had come in. She took one look at my medium sized suitcase and said, "You have so little luggage." I was like, you betcha. Then later, as I was filling up my hot water bottle. She said, "You have so little luggage and yet you STILL have room for a hot water bottle." Honestly, I could tell from her tone, which was one of amazement, that this was a very sincere compliment. And it meant the world to me. And I didn't even tell her that this was my entire life's belongings, aside from a few trinkets and my poems awaiting digital archiving. 

Why was it such an amazing compliment, the truest kind? Well, I have spent the last 18 years (since I was 7 years old) perfecting minimalism and it is finally paying off. I think a lot of my minimalist tendencies were suppressed up til a couple of years ago by some members of my family being concerned and revolted by my constant getting rid of things, and intepreting it as a sign of mental illness. Even in the past couple of years when their involvement has been less, I still had their voices echoing in my ears and doubted my own sanity sometimes. 

But after I looked into autism I understood my obsession in terms of that, an obsession. And a healthy one at that, given the amount of consumerism in our society. And I realise that the most holy men have been without possessions (not that I'm comparing myself to them in the slightest- just saying the minimalism is a healthier way to live spiritually). Buddhist monks and nuns give up their possessions so they can focus on more important things. I have always been driven to do the same. 

I do have a few things I need in order to be happy, realistic things. I'm not aiming for enlightenment by any means. That's not the point of my minimalism and I'm quite happy to be attached to some things which increase my quality of life, things such as my laptop, my essential toiletries, and my small blanket for comfort. But I feel so incredibly free with only what I need. I was certainly destined for this. 

Tuesday, 3 October 2017

Snowdrops in the Snow

After this great betrayal
I thought I would never again experience love
And yet it is possible
Love is the most important thing in the world
There are snow drop flowers
Which burst through the snow
Once spring has begun
They are modest, yet clear.
Every moment that I lived starving in the throes of agony
Did not seem worth living to me
But now I find freedom, freedom and space

And birds full of song in the horizons of my sky 

Monday, 2 October 2017

Grateful for Diagnosis

Although the diagnosis is a complete and utter mixed bag of feeling, one of the reasons I'm grateful I have it is because it is something my grandma never got to have. When I hear of her life story I'm sure that it also would have served her well at any age. Apparently before she died, just after my cousin was diagnosed, she said 'I think I might have that too.' So she did know to a degree, but never had the priveledge of it being confirmed. Although I am far less priveledged than some, in order:(Neurotypicals, Aspies diagnosed at birth or in childhood, people protected by their loved ones despite no label or completely accepted by those around them and able to remain untraumatized/relatively unscathed), I am also more priveledged than some (in order: those never diagnosed and without a clue, those never diagnosed, those diagnosed much later in life, those diagnosed who aren't white, and those diagnosed from lower socioeconomic status). So although late diagnosis is no easy thing, I appreciate having been diagnosed at all, and while I still have most of my adult life ahead of me. This is something that my grandmother never got to experience so it's strong in my mind. I sense that she is at peace now because autism is being seen for what it is in our family.

This Yellow Rose

This yellow rose
Does not know
How beautiful she is.

-Even as her skin is the shade of moons
Her stalk carries the finesse of an artist’s brush
And her core winds inwards as a fragile universe
Her head tilted into the ether,
Her silence containing the colours of miracles.

Still, she does not know how beautiful she is-
Pure innocence, grafted into the eternal landscape
That we see, not with our eyes
But with our Mind’s Eye.

Still, she does not know how beautiful she is.
Is it a tragedy?
With her petals dusted in the very shade of dawns,
The early light falling upon a swan’s back.
That she must see her very beauty through the eyes of another.

Such is this yellow Rose.