Sweet Unity

sweetunity

On the day of New Year’s Eve 2019 in the heat of the transformation mindset I have made the rash decision to avoid processed sugars all week, and every week except Sundays. There are multiple normal reasons that I have for doing that, but nothing that’s a matter of life or death. I just wanted to see if this change would make my normal human health problems such as energy spikes and crashes, skin problems, motion sickness, and other things improve so that I can become a healthier version of physically ‘normal’. I told my mom about this on the phone, and coincidentally she said that she had made the decision to avoid desserts until Sundays. “Maybe we can support each other,” she said. Avoiding desserts is a change far less extreme than avoiding the processed sugar that’s in commercial peanut butter and fed to yeast to make bread fluffy, but it was still a similar kind of change.

I thought that this would be fun. I have lost some of my taste for sugar from the time I was a little kid–now if you give me the choice between peanut butter cups and cheezies, I’d go for the cheezies. This will be easy, I thought.

I got into the habit of getting up early in the morning to make myself a hearty sugar-free breakfast of some kind. Over the past few weeks I have made myself plenty of three-egg cheese and spinach omelettes, and they’ve kept me going very well until lunchtime. I’ve been brewing my coffee less strong so that it would taste too sweet for me if I even attempted to put a small amount of sugar in it, while beforehand I would have brewed it so strongly that once I had added my sugar, it would have been as decadent as bittersweet chocolate. I loved, and still do love coffee like this, but it was a lot of caffeine in one little comfort drink. Milder coffee with just a splash of milk has also been tasting really good, but in a different way. My energy, mood, and my stomach feel better now than before I began drinking coffee without sugar. It also cleanses my palate in a nice way after eating an omelet.

I’ve been liking what this choice has been doing for me, but this is the problem— as an over-analyzer of everything including ingredient labels, I could easily allow this choice to make me so self-centered that I can isolate myself from others for the sake of vanity. My arguments for following this restricted diet to such an extreme might not be strong enough and can potentially discredit the challenges of people who have no choice but to avoid sugar.

Why do I think that this choice can be unjustly isolating? I have begun to question this choice on my first day back to my volunteer job at a school when one of the teachers baked a birthday cake for the teacher I work with who had her birthday during the Christmas holidays. This was when I began to think about what a birthday cake, or any other kind of centerpiece dessert that we cut and share symbolizes—it symbolizes coming together to celebrate unity in one good thing. If I had said ‘no’ to a piece of cake I would have been denying the intentions to share for superficial reasons. I accepted a piece of cake and felt no regrets. In fact, my conscious would have been bothering me if I had said ‘no’. This might sound strange to some people, but it actually took willpower for me to accept a wonderful piece of homemade buttery pound cake with whipped cream icing all because of my legalistic tendency towards excessive self-control. Personal freedom takes effort sometimes—can you imagine that?

After this experience I tweaked my New Year’s resolution to include centerpiece desserts, but not a moment too soon I couldn’t help but acknowledge that my friends and family had been continuing to bake homemade treats such as cookies, and offering them to me just like they had always done—same story.  Although physically cookies are not centerpiece desserts that symbolize one unifying sweet that we share In pieces, they are still made with the intentions to share, so I’ve accepted homemade cookies, and the occasional candy. So now I’ve tweaked my resolution again: I will eat sweets whenever they are offered to me in kindness, but I won’t go out of my way to find something with sugar for myself for convenience’s sake. It’s considered normal in today’s world to turn to a vending machine candy due to hunger over taste, and that might be one of the biggest problems we face regarding sugar. There’s no unity involved in getting yourself a package of Pop Tarts just because you’ve missed breakfast. I doubt that there was any love put into the making of convenience sweets either. From now on whenever I’m offered anything sweet I will ask myself: “Is accepting this treat going to allow me to connect, or maintain connection with others?” If the answer it ‘yes’ I will accept it.

Because of my obsessive personality I can easily become an extremist in many aspects of my own life. I either neglect to care about worldly things, or I obsess over them. It’s hard for me to find the in-between, and my diet is not an exception to this problem. This reason is why I’ve thought it best to create rigid rules for myself, and then over time tweak them whenever they are proving to deprive me of whatever is freeing and humbling—this is transformation.  First Timothy 4:4-5 says, “For everything created by God is good, and nothing is to be rejected if it is received with thanksgiving, for it is made holy by the work of God and prayer (ESV).”

 

The World’s Communication Disorder

Communication Elephant From the time I was a kid I was told that I have a communication disorder. This means that I have trouble putting my thoughts into words, and comprehending what other people are saying. I knew about this even before I was diagnosed with autism. I used to believe that a communication disorder was a condition that I possessed, or even part of who I was, but seriously–how can I be or have a concept that isn’t tangible?

I am not talking to anyone right now. I am sitting in front of a computer typing out my thoughts, but I’m experiencing the occasional blocks in my communication that cause me to erase certain sets of words, and rewrite them so that they make a little more sense. In this case, I don’t have a communication disorder, I’m just experiencing it while I’m trying to figure out how to make my writing more digestible for other people.

If someone who understands my perspective helps me to make my writing clearer than it was before, I don’t have a communication disorder, but there are still the occasional obstacles that need to be crossed. We will eventually manage to cross these obstacles successfully. If I decided to turn my computer off right now, and stay in my room without anyone to talk to, a communication disorder is not even existing within this moment.

On the other hand, if someone genuinely doesn’t understand what I’m writing or saying, It’s not just me who’s crippled in the area of communication, but it’s also the person who I’m talking to. This is nobody’s fault, this is just the way that the world works. These are the consequences of two or more diversely wired brains trying to find unity with one another. The weight of a communication disorder can bog down any conversation—we all feel it. Whenever this weight is felt, saying that one person in the conversation is the source of miscommunication might be the wrong thing to do. I don’t believe that people can be the source of a communication disorder. A communication disorder is something that manifests itself within a conversation where unity hasn’t been reached yet—this is just part of the natural process towards social integration.

I believe that whenever we feel the weight of a communication disorder, we should all be allowed to empathise about it. We all know that it’s hard, so why not just admit this to each other? Is it just because it’s not socially acceptable to bring up this elephant in the room? This elephant isn’t a bad guy. It has the potential to reveal one small glimpse of unity amongst the diversity. It keeps us from judging words and actions, and judgement of other people’s words and actions seems to be caused by pride and shame. I have developed this belief after I realized that the world around me effects my level of humility. Another person’s pride can cause me to feel ashamed, and my own pride can cause other people to feel ashamed. This is the teeter-totter effect that’s been on my mind a lot, and it’s going to come up many times again in this blog. I believe that this scale is something that needs to be escaped.

This also ties into my belief that I should treat others the way I want to be treated. I usually invite other people to take my words with a grain of salt because I want to take other people’s words with a grain of salt. This doesn’t mean being dismissive of what I, or other people are saying, but this does mean acknowledging that there is an unknown intention behind our words. Show me where I am right or wrong, and I will show you where you are right or wrong, but please don’t jump to conclusions before you know the root to what I’m saying.

This belief can make things hard for me. What if I’m around someone who doesn’t want their words to be taken with a grain of salt? If I treat someone like this the way I want to be treated, I get hit with a boomerang of shame. I throw the boomerang of information at them, but then the meaning gets twisted around because instead of catching it, and trying to figure it out, they let it come back to me as something that shouldn’t have been said in the first place. This is how people leave me trapped in a state of claustrophobia within my own body and mind. It’s like telling me that I’m not allowed to act or speak because I’m not genetically equipped to understand how to act around them. Thankfully this rarely happens, but this happens often enough to cause some damage. I should stress that I don’t believe that this behavior is ableism in the same way that the world sees it today. Or in other words, if this is ableism, it’s the kind of intolerance that hurts the entire fabric of humanity. It’s the belief that if people are flawed, (which we all are in morals, abilities, or… you name it), they should not be forgiven. This attitude is hard on the vast majority of people, and this even includes the person who exercises this attitude against others. We are actually hurting ourselves whenever we see ourselves as being completely right when we’re not. Maybe people who continuously torture themselves with this perspective are afraid to acknowledge the communication disorder, and to find unity within it because this means finding something in common with the people whom they didn’t like the words and actions of.

So, what should we do? Whenever we struggle to understand another person, should we try to find empathy through this small window called the communication disorder? This is as simple as saying that you are having some trouble understanding me, and me saying that I am having some trouble understanding you. Acknowledging this challenge as a similarity that unifies us might help us to open up the door to better understanding.