In this oddly chaotic world, we often find moments of order and form and these moments give us objective rules that can be comforting in a systematic way. Although my general free-spirited and independent nature is rewarded through music, literature, and different adventures, at the same time, I recognize the vast benefits of governance and prescription. Somewhere there is a balance of free creativity versus systematized rigidity and as we journey through life, we hope we achieve symmetry in our expectations for the waves of experiences thrown in our pathway each day.
For our 17 year old autistic son Joel, however, he often demands order and rule following as a system of life and organization. Some of this is born out of his trust of authority and some of this, unfortunately, is a reflection of his lack of creative thinking. And yet, for all its stereotypical characteristics of autism, it is a charming trait and one that bears modeling. If the sign says turn, then you must turn. If the rule states cross at the crosswalk, then you better not do otherwise.
Recently, at a formal dinner, there were name tags placed for seating. Unfortunately, the person who was supposed to sit across from me did not attend the event which then left a seat empty. Joel's name tag was placed next to the empty seat. Joel, of course, insisted on sitting where his tag was located even after I invited him to sit across from me. After thinking about it, I exchanged the name tags thereby making him comfortable to change seats. He was happy to oblige and we enjoyed the rest of the evening.
The following day, Joel and I ate at a nice restaurant together and as we prepared to leave, I noticed a door with an exit sign and another door with an enter sign. As we neared the doors, the enter door opened with a couple entering the restaurant. Due to the efficiency of the open door, I chose to leave the restaurant through that door. But Joel remained inside. As the door shut behind me, I noticed that Joel was not with me. I went back into the restaurant and saw Joel standing with his finger pointing at the exit door.
The hostess was looking at him oddly and I said it would take too long to explain. We both then left through the exit door with a happy Joel and perplexed looks on other people's faces. Joel followed the rules and was satisfied. He often reminds us of the speed limit, the red lights, the stop signs, the parking signs, and all the other myriad rules that help govern our behavior. In the library, he quickly but deliberately places the books in the sequential order that is needed. Conversely, he is not comfortable in a chaotic environment and does not respond well to subjectivity or even excess emotions.
In Joel's embracing of order, rules, and direction, he in turn resists the ataxia often found in large social circles and in certain environments. He seeks to order his world and grows concerned when all is not as it should be. In many ways, Joel's desire for objectivity is often refreshing and reminds us that chaos is ultimately nihilistic and that cultural growth occurs through order not confusion. Let us all choose times to attack ataxia and respect the Joels of the world.
4 comments:
Although I have a natural sense of order, I recognize that I need to be around some disorder to keep me flexible. I wonder if in an autistic state, this would also be important - maybe not, maybe disorder to the autistic person is just something unattainable. This also explains, in part, to Joel's great pull towards his "ordered" older brother.
I have learned a new word today.
To me it seems that disorder is necessary for us to fully understand true order, just as evil is necessary to understand good. That doesn't mean that one should indulge in both order and disorder to understand the inner workings of each (as Joel shows us), but the nonexistence of disorder would compromise our understanding and appreciation of the necessity of order. People like Joel can really bring out that appreciation though.
Some philosophers tell us that terms such as "disorder" and "evil" are understood simply as privations of other terms. In other words, "disorder" is nothing, without order. Disorder does not define order, it simply demonstrates negative order or "orderlessness." More importantly, the same can be said about evil. It is a privation of good. Neither "order" or "good" need "disorder" or "evil" necessarily to define them or to help us understand them. They are a privation of that which is.
Joel simply is not deprived. He experiences life exclusively as order and does not operate where there is privation. Which then begs another question. Who actually functions on the higher plane? Joel or you and I?
I agree with your statement. I guess the real point I am trying to get at is this: if there were no place in our world where order and good ceased to exist, would we as humans be able to have the same concept of those things as we do now? Would the idea of good be bland and less important without an antithesis? (antithesis isn't the best word for the situation, but I will settle for it)
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