Autism Consecrated Subscribers may have noticed it has been quite some time since we last posted any content. There is no deliberate reason for this: no extenuating circumstances, no vacations, no staged pause before unveiling our next initiatives. As much as this approach flaunts the rules of content writing, web marketing and brand building, these stretches of time between new posts reflect the fact that Autism Consecrated is a contemplative apostolate. This post is for those who may be less familiar with the contemplative way of doing things, and a reassurance that Autism Consecrated is still very much present, alive and breathing.
Our world operates on time and action. It is absolutely necessary to have structure, agendas and expectations – just ask any family who, six months later, is still adjusting to remote school learning and working from home! Simultaneously, however, God seems to call a portion of us, at any given point in history, to be ones who step back and notice Him in wonderment and reflection. Some of us are naturally endowed with artistic sense, thinking in poetry rather than prose, seeing abstractly more than directly. Others are easily caught up in marvel over things that most people accept as fact, and move on. In terms of neurodiversity, large numbers of these dawdlers and daydreamers eventually wind up being pegged on the autism spectrum. In the spiritual life, such folks are the ones we call contemplatives.
Much writing and scholarship has been devoted over the years to defining contemplative spirituality. There are formulas based on centuries-old texts and teachings, but some assert that contemplation is nothing more complicated than noticing the presence of God in every situation. For me, it’s about time. When I focus on the things bound by time, I’m fulfilling the active elements of my vocation. When I focus on the eternal, I’m fulfilling the contemplative.
Many times, an idea will come to me, perhaps via the contact form on the website, or in something that I read, or experience during the work week, about which I think to myself: this would be relevant for Autism Consecrated. Most of these thoughts are rooted in some timeless and universal aspect of the human condition… in other words, in matters that are eternal. And, when we are dealing with things that are eternal, they exist outside the framework of time. What is eternal today remains eternal tomorrow, and next week, and next year. Eternity has no deadline, needs no marketing, and transcends brand building.
Being part of the temporal world, however, I also appreciate the public’s desire for fresh content, especially when it comes to offering resources (such as our Youth Ministry section, still actively under development). These will indeed get there. As a contemplative, both in spirituality and in neurotype, I trust that the fruit will only appear when it is ripe, and I thirstily drink in the pondering of God during each moment of that ripening process. For every day I set to work, I might be surprised by encountering a new aspect of God’s goodness, or a fresh understanding of the redemptive nature of suffering, or be graced with hearing the story of someone previously unknown to me… and taste a bit of eternity in each. While I do not believe myself superior to, nor hold any grudge toward, those Rudyard Kipling calls The Sons of Martha, I can find fewer things as reassuring, satisfying or edifying as seeking after the gaze of God, and I offer no shame or excuse in spending long stretches of time pursuing this eternal delight.
Yes, I promise, there are outlines in progress of content we intend to post on the Autism Consecrated resource areas. As Fr. Nolette and I have been discussing our ideas, we keep coming back to the fact that there are not many resources out there for contemplatives. But… what would those resources look like? Is there such a thing, for example, as a contemplative model of youth ministry, when most YM programs are group- and activity-based? In terms of pastoral support for autism, how can we emphasize the vital importance of just-being, when most parish staff and inquirers to our website want things TO DO with autistics, not ways to just be with us?
Perhaps time will tell.