Yesterday I had the authentic German experience.
I woke up after an overnight coach in Hamburg. I had a few hours to kill before the train arrived.
Well, it turns out I had longer than that. My train was delayed. At the beginning it said by 30 minutes. No big deal I thought. Until it got delayed again, by 20 minutes. And again. Eventually it came 80 minutes later.
The experience was a testing one for my level of zen.
Tag: #inclusion
Re-evaluating the games we play in our lives
I’m not very good at being ‘normal’. I tried it.
In fact, I tried very hard. But the more I tried, the more I ended up seeming like a paid-actor hired into a sample group. I didn’t really fit in, so I learnt what I should say. But then, my rehearsed, polished answers were a little too good to be trusted.
One of the benefits of now having an official autism diagnosis is seeing why the disconnect takes place. When many people recommend certain actions, they don’t often expect you to do it.
Burnout, or a mutiny of the soul?
‘What you might call a burnout, I would call a mutiny of the soul’.
A curious phrase. I had never thought about it that way.
It was what that John Patrick Morgan said to me this week on a phone call as he was doing his gardening.
My recent months of introspection have been far more scientific medical than spiritual. Whilst the last few years was far more about exploring the existential, 2024 has been a lot more about trying to rationalise and diagnose.
Yet, there was a reason I turned to spiritual teachings in the first place. There are limits to the scientific – the rational can only explain so much.
On the search for a quietened mind
My recent weeks have been plagued with fatigue. It got to the point where popping out to the supermarket a few minutes down the road would leave me struggling, and I found myself frequently needing naps during the day.
I’m in the midst of understanding what being neurodivergent means in practice. It’s a lot to navigate – there’s certainly many things that make a lot more sense now, but I’m also cautious to jump to conclusions too quickly.
I went to my doctor this week who recommended I tried antidepressants. In an ideal world, I would have had a bit more time than a short consultation to think about it. In the end I decided to give them a try.
Learning about Neurodiversity and Autism as an Adult
This week is Neurodiversity Celebration week.
When I reflect on it, it was the heightened amount of messaging on social media that made me start researching around my own neurodivergency. This has culminated in me believing I’m Autistic.
So if you wanted an example of why these diversity weeks can be important, here’s a living, breathing example for you.
Learning to let the mask slip
I’ve regularly had conversations where I’ve noticed I was different.
It’s been hard to put words to this, and whenever I’ve talked about being different to other people they have always tried to reassure me – we are all different in some way, right?
I never thought of myself as demonstrating signs of autism. My understanding was that autism were for those with very exaggerated traits. Even when I saw some resonance with certain common behaviours, I thought of autistic people as showing little regard to emotion, whereas I knew myself as highly emotional and sensitive.
Yet I read an article which highlighted that many traits of autism vary a lot – non-stereotypical autism shows up as being highly empathetic and sensitive, as well as being existential or spiritual beings. These signs of non-stereotypical behaviours are more common for women, ethnic minority and queer/gender non-confirming folk too.
So am I Autistic? Most probably.
Searching for where we belong in the world
This weekend, I went to a small group discussion with marginalised people from racialised backgrounds.
It’s really interesting being in these open spaces, delving on complex and emotive topics. I was fascinated by how someone was trying to explain the challenge of finding a group for people like them.
This brought up a conversation more broadly about a sense of belonging. This got me thinking about my own personal experience. It’s something I’ve struggled a lot with.
The power of acknowledging our own greatness
This week I attended a coaching immersion down in Kent, UK. I was one of 12 in an awe-inspiring group of people doing incredible things in the world.
Whilst the experience was powerful, one thing we discussed is how gaining insights in of itself does not actually do really do anything unless we act upon them. (Actually, it was put in less eloquent terms: ‘f*** insights’).
It’s why during the immersion I committed to creating the Make Diversity Matter to You Programme. It’s a month long experience starting in July consisting of four 90 min weekly webinars and a community group with peer learning activities and resources.
If you’re interested in knowing more about the programme, drop me a message.
Self-expression sets us free
Yesterday was Pride in Brussels. This is the third time I’ve been to Pride here, and I love how Brussels converts itself to a colourful, party atmosphere.
What I also love about pride is that it gives the space for greater self-expression, particularly around how we look and dress. It’s fun to get playful with basic things like glitter and makeup, which is outside of normal societal convention. For men, it’s actually a fun opportunity to explore these things which are traditionally only for women.
I wore nail glittery nail polish yesterday. I found it actually very fun to have some shine. Whilst this may seem out of the ‘norm’, men have been using makeup thousands of years.
Over the last few weeks, I’ve come to appreciate the importance of considering how I look.
Take a stand for the power of your work
‘It’s not too bad’
‘I could have worked on it more’
‘Hopefully it will help’.
These are all phrases I’ve used when talking about my book, Make Diversity Matter to You. But what am I saying about myself if I am not really willing to believe in what I am creating?
I know that this experience is not unique to me. In the fear of being seen as arrogant, many of us shyly meander around when talking about our own creations. It feels much more comfortable to avoid the idea that what we have created might be good. After all, who are we to be special?
I’ve received a powerful message over the last few weeks about the importance of taking a stand for my own work. If I don’t tell people about the transformative effect reading my book can have, then less people are likely to read it. And even if they do, no one will read it with the idea that it can be so valuable.