Last week feels like so long ago now. I completed several things, a book review I’d been working on since July.
A week ago, for
I had to go on a search to find my own:
Patience With Public Perception
This time, when it comes to disability, I write about my own perceptions.
But perceptions are reality to each of us, individually. Of course, all of this is my own perception.
Have you been following me?
Yep. Confusing circle of endless perceptions, isn’t it?
How many times can I use the word “perception”? Nope. That is not the question for today.
Q: How has your perception of disability changed in your lifetime?
A: I’m an over thinker. Yep, I am. It’s what I do.
The one thing about my particular disability, compared to some others possibly, is that I am unable to focus on my visual surroundings and the sighted world.
This has me stuck with my own mind, as what’s going on visually around me, on a daily basis, is less of a helpful distraction.
Now, that’s not to say I’m not perfectly willing to concede that this can get me into trouble sometimes. I need to make sure I am interacting with others, using my other sences enough, so that I can get out of the endless loop of thoughts and perception inside my brain.
IT’S A TRAP!
My perceptions, as a child, were obviously much different than those I carry as an adult. Having disability from birth makes a transition, over the years and the stages of my life, hard to follow sometimes, difficult to pin down.
I try to get back there, as I miss that childlike view of the world, as I see it in the little people in my life now.
I was thinking about it as I spent a few solo hours with my now three-year-old nephew last week, since I last spoke to public perception of disability for RDAC.
He still does not know. I can say that fairly safely. He does not yet understand what disability or blindness means. It isn’t really a factor so far, in his sheltered little world.
I like this time spent with only him. It brings me a sense of peace and reflection, free from the sometimes exhausting loop I refer to above.
He holds something, a toy out toward me, and I don’t react. Maybe, for a moment or two, he wonders what that might mean.
I lived it. I’m still living it.
I want to be that child that lives in a child’s world. I don’t want disability to matter. I don’t want to have to constantly perceive what disability means. I envy him.
It’s a nice thought, to be able to get on with the business of living, but I have this filter in my mind and I can’t stop the loop from circling round.
And round, and round, and round it goes.
I no longer have the luxury of a three-year-old’s perception. I am stuck with my thirty-one-year-old’s perceptions. I want to be three again.
My perception and my reality are stuck up there, lost in the loop. If they would ever slow down enough, maybe I could make them known.
Canada must tackle disability rights reform
I must perceive what my country’s election might mean for me. I want to retreat to my loop.
I must leave my own perceptions and study what the public ones are. Again, I want to return to the loop.
I am an adult, but with all the added and the extra worries about where I fit, or don’t fit, in that adult world. My perceptions are my own, which matter of course, but I must find a way to meld that with the outside world, if I ever want to get out of my own head and find a way to join the living.
I perceive disability as my own personal reality, but at the same time I see it and how it really must be for so many other people with it.
It changes, like everything else in life, as the years and my experiences stack up.
Change is inevitable. Perception is reality.
Hmmm. Just what other cliches can I add to that?
Okay, so perhaps this question has gone completely off the rails this week. Just maybe.
I just want to get back to the lessons a three-year-old can teach.
I want to hold up my ideas and my perceptions to the light, not keep them always hidden on that wacky loop-dee-loop in my head, even if they are met with blank stares or questioning eyes.
I want to live it and stop perceiving and pondering. I want to answer this question, to participate in this blogging challenge, and to help other people understand, but yet I don’t know if I can do all that. Don’t know if it’s possible. I am perceiving, even as I write this. I don’t know where I’m going with it, like life. I am letting my weekend stream of consciousness writing spill over into my week I suppose because I can’t possibly hope to make any sense here today, as I write on a Monday that is actually a Wednesday.
I can’t hope to make much sense here, but I try anyway. I answered these questions about perception, relating to disability, because I don’t like leaving any unanswered. I did my best, but to fully follow my answer, you’d need to be inside my head where my own perceptions reside. I am not sure if perception is all too easily explained with words.
Do you agree with me at all? Were you able to follow what I said, my answer to this week’s question whatsoever?
If not, I will understand.
Redefining Disability on Facebook
Follow the page though because the thoughts, views, and opinions are expressed a lot better over there. Promise.
Next week’s question is:
How has medical treatment and technology changed in your lifetime?