From Freak Out to Empowerment

A funny thing happened after I discovered an awesome article about dyslexia (see the post just before this one): the universe brought me more and then more information to help me help my son. Yes, I freaked out, realizing that there is yet another thing going on with my son. And I know that some of it can, indeed, be changed (with money and a lot of extra work). And I am in the process of figuring out how to best proceed. I believe that not dealing with his dyslexia has been a huge part of his hating school and feeling stupid.

What amazes me, is that one day, as I was surfing Facebook, I came across an article about dyslexia. A few days later, I mentioned the article to my son’s physical therapist, who immediately responded that she knew nothing about dyslexia. My next question to her was, whose area is this? Do occupational therapists handle this? The answer I got was more “I don’t know’s.” But the next thing to come out of her mouth was that there was going to be a talk at her office in a week’s time, given by a local woman who evaluates and treats people for dyslexia- an expert!

Two nights ago, I got quite an education on what to look for, in screening for dyslexia. I printed out the article I had found and brought it with me. As the expert was going through a Powerpoint presentation, many of her slides were word for word what was in the article I had. It turns out that the website the article had come from, was Bright Solutions, created by Susan Barton, whose program is used by our local dyslexia expert.

If you are concerned about your child possibly having dyslexia, check out these Characteristics of Dyslexia. Know that dyslexia has a genetic component to it, and you do not outgrow it. So, the sooner a child gets help, the better.

Working on spelling as many ways as I could think of. Drawing words in flour here.

One discouraging thing I learned, was that the reading program my son has in school doesn’t help with dyslexia. And the extra reading help he receives through the special ed. department doesn’t teach to dyslexia. However, I know that with our local expert’s help, we will be steered in the right direction: school accommodations for right now, and an appropriate reading program (that I will most likely have to buy myself and implement at home) that will help my son. Freak out over… for now.

Why Do I Have To Be The Freaking Expert On Everything?

Ok. I’m exaggerating. But come on. I just discovered a fantastic website that describes a wide variety of symptoms of dyslexia. A lot of the symptoms popped out to me as describing my son: delayed speech, confusing left and right, can read a word on one page but won’t recognize it on the next page (that last one always blew me away when he was learning to read). Can’t master tying shoes. What? This is related to dyslexia? Wow. Yup, he can’t tie a knot of any kind.

When reading aloud, reads in a slow, choppy cadence (not in smooth phrases), and often ignores punctuation. Becomes visibly tired after reading for only a short time. Reading comprehension may be low due to spending so much energy trying to figure out the words. Listening comprehension is usually significantly higher than reading comprehension.

When reading a story or a sentence, substitutes a word that means the same thing but doesn’t look at all similar, such as trip for journey, fast for speed, or cry for weep. I always wonder how he does this- won’t read a particular word, but will pop in a synonym in its place.

Their spelling is far worse than their reading. His spelling is atrocious. People with dyslexia usually have an “impoverished written product.” That means there is a huge difference between their ability to tell you something and their ability to write it down.

They go on to talk about directionality confusion. Most people know about people with dyslexia flipping d’s and b’s, p’s and q’s. But no one talks about not being able to read or understand a map. I used to make my living as a ship’s navigator. Reading maps was what I did best, and I couldn’t explain what a line of longitude was to my son, even when I was blue in the face and had turned one of his play balls into a round map with lines of latitude and longitude drawn all over it. It just did not compute.

People with dyslexia have extreme difficulty telling time on a clock with hands. I am finally fully appreciating that even though we go over what time it is, every   single    blinking     day, he still can’t tell what time it is on an analog clock.

People with dyslexia have an extremely difficult time organizing their belongings. They tend to pile things rather than to organize them and put them away. It is almost as though if they can’t see the item (if it is behind a door or in a drawer), they will forget where it is. So they have extremely messy bedrooms, lockers, desks, backpacks, purses, offices, and garages. Ding, ding, ding, ding!!!! We have hit another one right on the head. My son can’t keep track of anything. And my house constantly looks like a tornado just went through.

People with dyslexia are often gifted in math. Their three-dimensional visualization skills help them “see” math concepts more quickly and clearly than non-dyslexic people. Unfortunately, difficulties in directionality, rote memorization, reading, and sequencing can make the following math tasks so difficult that their math gifts are never discovered. I have seen some of this in my son- how he can look at a problem and see the answer right away. But the way math is taught these days, he has to write out each and every step in sentences, causing him frustration and defeat.

So, now that I see so clearly a constellation of traits that are my son, that are likely dyslexia, how can I teach him how to tie his shoes, or does he go through life wearing shoes that don’t tie? He’s made it 9+ years so far without tying his shoes. And will he ever be able to tell time on an analog clock? What will happen if he’s grown and needs to know the time, and has only analog clocks around at that moment? Will he ever learn to be organized enough to make it through life? Will he learn to read a map so he can get from point A to B? When he’s older will he be able to find that job interview and get there? on time?

And who, other than me has to figure this all out? To see the pieces of this puzzle child of mine. School certainly isn’t much help. Their resources are already tapped out. And it’s not their job to make sure all the kids can tie their shoes, or organize their desk or locker by the time they graduate high school.

Maybe there is a faint glimmer of hope. After all, there have been some pretty famous people who had dyslexia, like, Albert Einstein, Thomas Edison, Alexander Graham Bell, and Benjamin Franklin.

A Message From The Universe

I’ve been taking a class, where we are learning how to communicate with spirit. The other day, we were learning how to communicate with our Spirit Guides. For those who don’t know, when we are born, we have beings not in physical form, who are with us, to help and guide us along our way in life. Some of these beings are called Spirit Guides. They may have lived a physical life at one time, or not. And they are here for you. We have several guides that can help us. We may have a primary one or two, who stay with us for our entire lives; and then other ones can pop in as needed, for shorter periods of time, while you’re working on a particular lesson. An author might have a guide who comes in to assist with writing. And a composer may have a guide who comes in when they are writing music. One thing about them though, is that you have to ask for their help. They won’t stick their nose into your business, uninvited.

So there I was, sitting with my eyes closed, listening to my teacher, as she ran us through a guided meditation. That’s fancy talk for… picture yourself on a deserted sandy beach, with warm winds blowing past your face. Did you “see” the sandy beach? Did you feel the sun warming you? Did you sense the warm breeze? It’s that simple. Guided mediation is when you listen to what’s being told and you use your imagination to go there.

She asked us to call forward one of our guides. I cheated a little bit. I have done some work with my teacher in private, and one of my guides had come to help out. She had described him to me and told me his name.  Armed with this information, I decided to call forth my Healing Guide, Archer. He was described to me as looking like Robin Hood, dressed all in green, with a bow and arrow. From that description, I had an image of him in my mind, like Robin Hood of the movies back in the 30′s. And for some reason, I guess because he’s with me only in spirit, I figured he was little, like an elf or sprite. Here’s where it got interesting.

I was sitting, eyes closed, asking Archer to come forward, not really expecting anything, and soon enough, I sensed a large man in front of me. The reason I realized this was not coming from my imagination, was his size. He was BIG! We’re talking, Hulk Hogan big. Our teacher had us ask our guide a series of questions, including how long they had been with us. In a nano second I got, “Forever.” Cool! Then I realized how deep his voice was. I didn’t imagine him with such a deep voice. Wow! I wasn’t making this up. In my mind, I told Archer that I wanted to be able to hear him audibly, in my head. Some people can do this.

In receiving my request, an answer immediately came back loud and clear: trust. The pictures and knowings, hearing and feelings I have been picking up are subtle. So subtle that I often ask myself, am I just making this up? Is it just my imagination? He told me to trust that what I think is my intuition speaking to me, is indeed, that.

Earlier in class that morning, one exercise had us see ourselves sitting on our knee, then on a shoulder, then in our heart and finally in our head. When I put myself in my heart, for some strange reason, I became emotional. Fast forward to the exercise with Archer. As soon as I heard- trust- I knew in a moment that what I had discovered in my heart was some old issue about not trusting myself. Then, Archer went behind me, said that he had my back, and went to work clearing that old mistrust out of my heart.

I have to trust myself. For so long, I was made to think I was wrong, and I learned to not trust my instinct, to not trust my intuition. When people who are older than you, fuck mess with your head from the time you are old enough to suckle, you learn to not trust yourself, your intuition. Being in a place of not trusting yourself is a bad place to be.

Fortunately, with regards to trusting myself, I’m getting better and better at it. Once in a while, someone may try to dupe or bamboozle me. But I check in with my left (rational) and right (intuitive) brains and know what’s true and right. Then I usually get pissed for a little while. Partly at myself for not trusting me; and partly at them for being an idiot. When I’m specifically practicing using my intuition, the more I trust myself, the more good information I get. And by the time I no longer doubt myself when I’m communicating with spirit, that’s probably when I’ll start to hear spirit loud and clear in my mind’s ear.

The Passing Of An Era

She’s gone. My Aunt passed away, early this morning in her sleep, surrounded by loved ones. She had been on hospice merely a few weeks. And the first thing that popped into my head about her death was how proud I am of her. She was an elegant lady in life (and beautiful), and chose to spend the last part of her life in an equally elegant way. She chose hospice. No extraordinary, painful, invasive, sickness-inducing medical interventions. Elegance to the end.

I was wondering if I could connect with her spirit, and as I was walking down the driveway, I had a conversation in my head with her. It’s that simple. And a while later, I was sitting at my computer, occasionally gazing out the window at the snow, gently falling, and my thoughts once again, turned to my Aunt. She told me to tell her husband that she loves him. I mentioned that he knows she loved him. And she said to be sure to tell him that she loves him still. So he gets the message that she’s still here and her love is still here, and will always be here. That did it. The dam burst. I was a mess of tears. I’ll write him a letter.

She passed away in the manner that I think most of us aspire to: with comfort and peace, surrounded by ones we love.

My Spider Phobia

Yesterday, I had another Akashic Record Healing session with one of my favorite local psychics, Jill. She defines an Akashic Record Healing as follows: In this type of healing, essential energy that is missing from your energy space will be retrieved.  Why is it missing?  Because at different times during your life, you may have given up a part of yourself or been psychically wounded.  This may have happened during a painful or emotional event or at a time when you gave up your power to another person.  You may also have “soul” energy that become stuck and was left behind in other lifetimes.  During the healing, I connect with one of your spirit guides and together we travel to the Akashic Records to retrieve this valuable information. These energy “packets” may have been missing from your energy space for quite some time.  This information is then brought back, returned to your energy body, and integrated back into your chakras, energy channels and/or aura, bringing that part of your energy system into proper balance.

So, a person might have been abused as a child and had some of their essential energy taken by another person. Jill goes into a light trance and basically uses one of your guides to get it back. She talks about the energetics of the situation, so you can get a big picture view of what went on.

That said, near the end of our session, she asked me if I had any other questions. As an afterthought, I said that I had always wondered if I had died from a spider bite, because spiders freak me out. Not all of them, but some kinds. And if I find one, any one, on my body, forget it. Total freak out.

In fact, just this past week, I pulled up to our mailbox in my car, opened it up, grabbed the mail, and a spider that had been in the box ended up on my leg. There I was, pulled out of the driveway into our country road (with very little traffic, thank goodness), sidled up to the mailbox, facing oncoming potential traffic, freaking out because a spider was on my leg. I had to either kill it or get it out of my car- NOW! I ended up killing it. But even having the dead body in the car was a little bit unsettling.

Jill went back into her light trance, and the next thing, she was tuning into a lifetime I had lived a long time ago, in Egypt. When she tuned in, I was in my early 20′s, was newly married, had a warm and loving family, was living comfortably with servants, and was quite beautiful. With all that I had going for me, I lived with the idea of “things are too good- when is the other shoe going to drop.” I wasn’t able to just accept and enjoy my good life. For some reason, I believe that I felt I didn’t deserve it all. One morning, I went outside, sat down, and a very poisonous spider bit me on the left calf. I died within an hour from the bite.

Jill said that she felt the burning of my calf. As soon as she said that I was bitten on my left calf, I tried to think if I had any marks there, such as a mole, birthmark, or the like. Then I realized that the physical sensation in my left calf is altered because of nerve damage. Three and a half years ago, I severely herniated a disc in my lower back, resulting in the most painful sciatica I’d every had. When my calf was in pain, it was excruciating, intense, burning pain. Probably like what the spider bite felt like. Coincidence? I think not.

Just to make sure I don’t attract something like that into my life again, I try to stay in a place of gratitude. I am thankful for my family and life circumstances today. I am thankful that I’m not dealing with that horrible pain any more. And it’s all right and good. The chances of my being bitten and killed by a poisonous spider, where I live now, are very slim.

Last night, as I was lying on my bed, reading to my Little Man (getting some quality one-on-one time), I glanced over to my right arm, and what was on it, but a small, black, harmless spider. Did my phobia go away? Am I now cured of the heebeejeebees? Heck no! I freaked, but was calm enough to grab some tissues and kill the bugger! Then I jumped up with a big shudder. Sometimes the universe just needs a good laugh.

Lessons In Legos

I never know where inspiration will strike. Or when. But lately, it’s been brought on by Legos. Yup. Those colorful building blocks that my son can’t seen to get enough of right now. I keep seeing analogies to life in them. For instance, the building pieces come in a variety of shapes and sized, as do people. And if you make something and don’t like it, change it.

Most recently, it was when my son was building a Lego train set that he bought just after Christmas, with his Christmas money. I was hesitant to let him get this set because it was rated for ages fourteen and older. The kid is only 9. Yes, he’s pretty good at building things. But with his attentional challenges and propensity to want to skip over some steps along the way, along with visual issues that contribute to missing a step here or there, I was not convinced this whole idea was going to be a good one.

After putting a few pieces in the wrong place (by one of those little blips), things started to go wrong. I intervened and helped cause a minor meltdown. After I forced Little Man to go take a break while I figured out where he went wrong, and fixed it, he got back to the build. A short while later, he was getting frustrated yet again. This time I decided that since he hadn’t wanted my help the first time, I wasn’t going to get involved. Bingo! Life lesson reminder! It’s his life and his struggle. I can’t take it all away or do it all for him. He has to figure it out.

I regret not capturing the original build. This was a rebuild- lots of mom help- done several days later.

It’s his life build. If the life train doesn’t come out perfectly, that’s ok. He had a few hiccups along the way, and the finished product didn’t come out exactly as on the box. But he was able to make his own modifications so that it worked. The train looks like a steam engine (which was what’s important to Little Man), and it goes around the track without derailing. And he did it himself. Goal accomplished.

The next day, I read something about taking things one small step at a time. Bingo! Another one! To put together that big set of over 1000 bricks, you need to take it one brick at a time, piece by piece. And you may need to take a minute to get organized before you start actually building. For some parts of the build, you need to make something that may involve 4 to 10 bricks, and then put that piece onto what you are building. But it’s all just one small step at a time, especially when things are big and complicated, like life.

Because Little Man was so worn out by building the engine and tender, the next morning, I helped put together the passenger car. Teamwork.

This passenger car was built by both me and Little Man.

Just a quick afterthought. Yes, I let Little Man struggle through building the engine and tender. Several days later, he was quite bummed out that they were not right, and he asked for my help. I obliged, and the photo above, of the engine and tender, is the result of that later effort. Another lesson: it’s ok to ask for help, and it’s ok to give it.

What a Difference a Year Makes

As we are coming down the home stretch of 2011, I thought it appropriate to see what was going on a year ago, and what I was writing about. The entry last December was Trying To Find More Pieces Of The Puzzle : still trying to figure out just what was making Little Man so miserable about school- every… single… day. Today, I have a much better insight into some reasons why school is such a challenge for him. Unfortunately, the school can’t really do very much about some of these things, if they even would believe me or understand it all.

My son is very sensitive and very intuitive. Some people call these children Crystal Children. His brain thinks in some different ways. He has difficulty with our linear concept of time. The more I read, the more I realize that it’s only because of our left brain that we perceive time as being linear. His brain is actually ahead of the curve, as far as the evolution of our species. (See what I mean about- if the school would even believe me?)

He has Sensory Processing Disorder for a reason. With his sensitive skin, he is amazing when it comes to feeling energy. He has the makings of a tremendously talented Energy Healer, if he so chooses. He has trouble maintaining focus when something doesn’t interest him (school). That will be a challenge he’ll have to learn to deal with. With the huge amount of energy packed into his little body, it’s no surprise he can have some trouble maintaining focus- especially when he’s forced to sit in one place for an hour or more. (His nickname, earned as a toddler, was Motor Boy).

Costumes are not just for Halloween.

He obsesses about things. As much as this trait can drive me nuts from time to time, it gives him the drive and stick-to-it-ivness that will serve him well at some point in his life. His sensitivity extends to his intuition. He picks up vibes from other people very easily, whether he wants to or not (at this point). It gives him the ability to read people very accurately. He’s a human lie detector. But in school, soaking up all those vibes, he needs to get outside and clear himself out (as well as run off excess energy) on a regular basis. I’ll have to have a chat with his teacher in the next week or two, as Little Man has been missing a lot of recesses that he’s not supposed to miss (courtesy of his 504 Plan), to get caught up with work. And when he’s receptive, I’ll teach him some Energy techniques to help him handle his clairsentience.

He is more than creative. When he watches TV or a video online, he has to be part of the action. He doesn’t just sit and watch. He’s making something, or building something so he can participate in what he’s watching or has just watched. These days, the building mostly involves Legos. And it often involves water: in my kitchen sink, in a plastic tub on the floor, in the bathtub, or in the stream behind the house. Because he can’t tie a knot yet, there is usually tape and string involved. I buy my tape in bulk. Any time we have a good-sized box around, it is always turned into a race car or Titanic.

"A Power Ranger figure frozen like a fossil from the ice age."

Unfortunately, he has very few creative outlets in school. They have no art or music teacher. Any art or music they do is dependent on the classroom teacher. And his teacher this year doesn’t do much art, and does no music at all.

Indiana Jones' car from Kingdom of the Crystal Skull.

Over the past year, I’ve learned so much about my Little Man. Lots of pieces of the puzzle have been revealed to me. School will continue to be a challenge for a while yet. But at least when school is getting him down and making him feel dumb, I know better and tell him all about it. He knows he’s different from his classmates. He knows he has big-time abilities and that he rocks! His time to shine will come.