When the game was over, a mindless game with little to no skill or application of intellect, a game of luck devoid of strategy or planning, and the final scores were tabulated, and it was revealed that I had won the game by a small margin, I began my typical celebratory, symbolic victory dance of cheers and whoops in a way to bring attention to myself, which must be the primary reason for the excess emotionalism of victory yells, and laud my own magnificence at beating the other players. But in the midst of this inane display of immaturity and pettiness, as I looked around the table at the tolerant smiles of the losers, I saw one person sharing in my joy by clapping his hands, shouting with me, and responding genuinely to my excitement. He was equally happy that I had won, and did not demonstrate any anguish at his own loss. He was totally undaunted by the realization that my victory, a foolish word in light of the completely luck oriented game, was the cause of his and every-one's defeat.
Joel's autism has side benefits not found in those of us who are normal (there I go again, throwing in a word that could result in another blog entry filled full of philosophical meanderings and resulting in a plethora of comments in wild disagreement of my weak, albeit sincere definition of the word normal), with our "normal" and probably cliched human reactions to events such as being happy for being the winner in a silly competition. Joel does not have a competitive spirit the way one might expect. His winning is the act of playing, for to play is to win regardless of the outcome.
Autism carries with it a characteristic of emotionless objectivity, a quality of exactness and precision that is not to be tampered with nor to be concerned with another option. With this comes a refreshing honesty and behavioral prescription to follow the rules. The other day we elected to eat at a local pizza restaurant. As we got near the door to enter the establishment, I noticed another door that said "Take Out" on the front. Using my amazing deductive logic, I realized both doors took us to the same location and the "Take Out" door was actually closer to our goal. Seeing nobody else in line for the take out, I naturally used that door to enter the restaurant. Hearing a noise behind me, I turned to see Joel pointing at the other door. We looked at each other, shut the "wrong" door and used the correct door. We did not break the rules.
Joel does not experience an urge to get ahead or to win, those qualities that can serve a person well in this modern culture of success and acquisition; conversely, without the competitive urge to win, he does not suffer from a loss of self-esteem, a darkness and dolorous confusion that often goes with losing. But not only does Joel not know the sadness of losing, he also cannot fully empathize with this emotion in other people, resulting in a perplexed reaction to disgust, anger, or depression often displayed by the losers in a game. A game is simply a game, and it is the playing that provides the entertainment. Winning or losing is not something on which to dwell, it is merely what it is: somebody wins and somebody does not. Why waste any emotional effort on this fact?
Joel is contented to live life in the immediate rather than the future, and to live life satisfied (satisfied is not accurate since satisfaction is primarily an emotion drawn from current feelings) with the current state. He plays the game of life so as to enjoy the moment and to relish in the accuracy of the events as they present themselves, to reflect and represent the truth as it makes itself known rather than to manipulate or design events according to the goals presented. For most of us, the goal, as defined by our personal motives, is the goal and the aim is the aim (Philip Roth, American Pastoral), but for Joel the goal is the accurate portrayal of events in the game. His goal is to do it right not to win. If he does win, then that is the way it is.
He values the winner and the loser, and he does not expend energy dwelling on the mental state or personality or self-esteem of those in the game much less his own emotional reactions to the end. Joel's objectivity prevents perceived values from playing a role in his world-view, thereby resulting in an accurate appraisal of the events and an acceptance and equanimity of the conclusion. This in turn causes an unusual and non-threatening acknowledgment of the emotional reaction in the other person. When I was happy at my victory, Joel responded in kind, not sharing in my joy for being the best but simply enjoying my enjoyment. Had I lost and responded in tears of shame for being the worst, Joel would have been sad for my sadness without having an understanding of the deeper sense of loss of esteem. The facts are the facts, there is a winner and a loser and this fact is not deserving of emotion.
Yes, no doubt competition, from sports, academia, cognition, philosophy, defense, and aggression, has created our current world of skyscrapers, books, technology, restaurants, automobiles, and institutions. We thrive and improve due to our human competitive spirit and without the inherent desire to win, stagnation and mediocrity could invade our being.
And yet, there is something refreshing and even magical about playing the game to play the game, to accept the truth without manipulation and without the reaction, to live a life in contentment of result. Once again, I must say that if the world had more Joels, it would be a better place.
No comments:
Post a Comment