My last entry on Temple Grandin, the renowned Doctor of Animal Science who also happens to be autistic, got me to thinking about the different ways we all process information. For instance, Husband loves audio books and listens to them regularly on his daily commute. He says he enjoys being submerged in the narrator’s voice and imagining the story as it unfolds. Me, I’m lost in an auditory book. My mind wanders, I get distracted by the narrator’s vocal quirks, and ultimately a moment comes when something happens to a character and I can’t for the life of me remember who that character is. Bottom line: I’m a visual learner.
Which may explain why I became totally absorbed in an American Sign Language class last semester. I’m Jewish so I talk with my hands anyway, and facial expressions always play a big part in my interactions. It was immediately clear how intuitive the Deaf are about translating what they see into understanding and comprehension. Facial expression, hand position, and body placement form the basis of communication among the non-hearing as much as the actual mechanics of Sign Language itself. The Deaf think in pictures of a much different kind than autistic author Temple Grandin. Some students in the class got it; others struggled. To get it, you almost had to suspend what you already knew about communicating. If you could take that leap, you could risk feeling deaf.
I often wonder how other people’s minds work. Like what do they see when they look at or hear something and what thoughts does a particular sight or sound generate within each individual. We all process everything through the lens of our past experiences, our knowledge, our attitude, and whatever chemical and neurological synapses our system is equipped with to handle external stimuli and mental connections. That’s what I think anyway, and how I think is all I have to reference firsthand. If you read this blog then you know how I think. These entries are an example of what passes through my brain 24/7.
Years ago during one of our sessions, the Wise Man asked me to describe what goes on in my mind. I told him there is a constant narration running in my head from a neverland perspective that dwells between first and third person. Sometimes I write pieces of it down. Sometimes I store it in a secret place to recall later when its relevance is required. Sometimes I let it go, knowing it will come back in a different form if it’s really important to my thought empire. He seemed very interested in the whole process. I was very interested in the possibility that everyone may not have a similar circus of thoughts rattling around in their head no matter what else is going on. If not, what are they thinking about? Is the answer to ‘What’s on your mind?’ ever really ‘Nothing’?
I can’t help but speculate about the thought processes of people I meet, like academically brilliant people who find it hard to relate to their own children, and individuals who are financially successful, but don’t seem to know how to enjoy it. A lot of people are worriers, especially women who are mothers. I am one of them. So when a worry thought cuts into my eternally marching parade of narration, I picture a bolt of lightning striking it dead center. I watch it fall over a jagged cliff like Wile E. Coyote, knowing it is gone for now, but not forever.
Daughter’s Featured Fotos are Thinking. . .
. . . hamptons
. . . sunset in dumbo
. . . guns and glory
. . . city