Envision a Future in the Present
“The future belongs to those who believe in their dreams.” – Eleanor Roosevelt
My son’s psych assessment started at 9:15 in the morning and lasted until 5:00 pm. Then, the psychiatrist looked at us and asked, “Have you heard of Asperger’s syndrome?”
Prepared to hear bipolar disorder, ADHD, ODD, or any diagnosis except autism, I felt lost. Thankfully, he spent the next hour explaining autism and offering guidance about what to do next.
After listening for a time, my son's Dad asked, “Will he go to college?” I was too stunned to think that far into the future. “I can only think about today,” I said. The doctor reassured me, “And that’s what you should do.”
I’ve thought about the different perspectives many times since that day. Future and present aren’t neatly separated when the diagnosis is autism.
Therapeutic interventions and IEPs focus on daily steps striving toward a short-term goal, but don't have a future focus.
The urgent push to remediate — the constant stream of professionals, behavior charts, and school meetings — consumes every day.
Of course, the daily steps are critical. They lead to progress.
But where is the quality of life when every day is consumed with toileting, homework, sensory issues, therapy appointments, and a child who withdraws and becomes nonverbal after the stress of a day at school?
Hope for the future
I thought about the work my son did, day in and day out, to overcome challenges most people will never face or understand.
Can you imagine the effort it would take to stay in control if you spent every hour in grade school afraid you might have a hypersensitivity meltdown or extreme stress might cause an angry outburst?
I worried because the intense daily challenges left no room for a quality life embracing joy and creating connections. The constant effort to manage autism drained all energy and mind space. Forget about hopes and dreams for tomorrow, much less adulthood.
Would I be as strong and courageously face every day if I didn’t have motivation or hope for the future? I wondered how to help my son capture the intrinsic desire for future goals.
It will belong to us
Those questions brought me back to the doctor’s advice about making each day count. I started to keep track of my son’s surprising comments, moments of dazzling insight, spontaneous laughter, and small successes.
I continued to share his interests but switched the focus from using interests to remediate to building upon them for fun and connection. I began to nurture my son separately from the autism-directed goals. We started to create dreams.
I created stories about his passions, strengths, and the successes they built. Frequently repeated like any beloved picture book, the stories built positive memories and mended the dark holes formed by rages or feelings of failure.
Now and then, the stories rekindled the spark in his eyes.
Motivation for the present and hope for the future did not come from following a behavior management plan.
They came from his spirit finding a voice apart from the stressful demands of autism. His spirit connected to the stories and over time, he dared to dream of a future.
If we believe
When you first hear the diagnosis, the race to maximize remediation begins. That’s how it should be. At that stage the future focuses on building skills; considering a purpose in life happens later.
But the seed of your child’s purpose exists even at the earliest age and cultivating that seed enables your child to see beyond autism's challenges.
All our kids have a great story, no matter where they are on the spectrum. Here’s the thing: They will not find it on their own because the core deficits of autism make it virtually impossible.
We must develop and tell the story until they believe. Tell it to them at bedtime, repeat it when they’re feeling down, and put a picture, photo or note on the refrigerator highlighting just one fun or successful thing they did that day. Create a positive vision.
Out of the darkness the future will come
Ten years after the assessment, my now 17-year-old son is acutely aware of the skills that still need to be mastered and how they impact the future. Yet the one thing that counts the most to him is a sense of purpose.
The first time he identified something he wanted to do – that had incredible meaning for him – emotions propelled him, and he jumped in the air saying, “Finally, I have a purpose in life.”
Talk about a sparkle in his eye. It was blinding. At that moment, I knew that years of building his potential life story and nurturing that spark had an impact.
Autism – the diagnosis and all that it means – envelopes your world and frequently hides the spark. But it lives.
The spark will inspire and sustain you and your child through the hard work ahead. So search for it. Be mindful of those precious moments, explore your child’s interests and capture the fun even if it only makes a fleeting appearance. It is there. Believe.
Hope for the Future by Paul McCartney
