Eric Van Lustbader, aikido, and self.
In a previous post, I wrote about the clean start, the reset, for my workroom and bedroom. Now the challenge is to keep that momentum going.
In my 20s, all the way back in the 1990s, I discovered Eric van Lustbader’s Nicholas Linnear novels. I was hooked. The beguiling mix of Eastern mysticism, Western pragmatism, martial arts, the corporate shenanigans, the violence; I was besotted.
Addictive personality or autistic special interest – the heartbreak of self-deprivation
One of the things that breaks my heart, that makes me grieve for my younger self, is how I denied myself things. Things, like van Lustbader’s books, because they were enthralling. I used them as a launching board to find out about so many things, including aikido. But even though they were books that I wanted to read again and again, I denied myself, because I was afraid I had an addictive personality. In reality, all I had was undiagnosed autism, and a new-found special interest.
You see, while addictive personality is not a disorder under the DSM-5-TR, it is generally used to describe a compulsive need to engage in certain behaviours or with certain substances. On the surface, that can look a lot like an autistic special interest, and an autistic special interest can look a lot like an addiction to a thing, or a compulsion.
So, imagine my confusion and dilemma, when I didn’t know I was autistic, and found things that were special interests. Imagine the autistic need, the desire, to go down that rabbit hole, and misdiagnosing yourself, from your teenage years as potentially having an addictive personality. Imagine containing yourself, depriving yourself of that joy, because you thought you may have had a mental health disorder.
One of my autistic traits is hyperlexia, a deep fascination with words and language, that often presents as early acquisition of reading and written words. I’m also a bibliophile to go with that. Books have always been my best friends. Rediscovering an old friend, hidden on a bookshelf, is a rare delight. But the books I have denied myself, because I thought I had an addictive personality… such as Dungeons and Dragons and the spinoff Dragon Lance, and Margeret Weis’s “Star of the Guardian” series. These are just the ones that have come up in conversation recently. There would be tens, hundreds of books that I read once, found utterly delightful and enthralling, that I put aside because I thought I had an addictive personality.
Part of me rages, now, and grieves, for those books that could have been lifelong special interests, maybe a missed genesis for writing fan fiction, maybe a missed opportunity to research the issues present in the books, acquiring more knowledge… so much missed that could have been so rich and satisfying.
Fast forward to today, restarts and maintenance
In thinking, though, about my issues with executive allofunction (my positive language, instead of using “dys”), and the fresh clean start of my revived workroom and bedroom, I remembered some of the principles of aikido. Dusty memories of those books by Eric van Lustbader and his character Nicholas Linnear, and the things I learned from the books about martial arts, and then went on to research.
One of those things from those books was aikido – avoid and deflect. In a lightbulb moment, I realised that that is how I could manage my executive allofunction; by avoiding and deflecting. Now, it may sound crazy to talk about managing my mind as if it’s a third party. I know it isn’t; it’s just me. It is, though, almost doing an end run around myself, or rather, knowing where the blocks are, and doing an end run around them. Avoid, and deflect.
How?
How does this work for me? Follow my mental path. This is going to be like a braid, several strands woven together and coming together at the end.
Thread 1. My good-as-brand-new workroom, I need to keep it that way. So if I also use it as my workout area, as well as my study and writing area, my collectables in display cabinets, and my sewing equipment temporarily put aside… then if I move those desks from being back to back, to being against the wall, then I have room for my exercise bike and Nordic walker. And the newly cleared drawers in the display cabinets can hold my yoga gear. Then there’s a space there for a yoga mat, and a space there for dumbbells… well, if I’m going to use that part of the room as a workout area, then I need to keep the chaise clear for a post workout transition. And given that one of my workout routines includes prone shoulder abductions, I want a clean carpet.
So cleaning isn’t a function in and of itself. It is an adjunct to my workout routines.
Thread 2. Why are workout routines so important? They’re important because I discovered I am autistic, and autism isn’t just the mind, it is the body as well. Now, I’m 52, and don’t have the “chunky” movements that some autistic people have, likely because of the “inadvertent supports” I received as a child, in ballet, speech and drama, piano and singing, and cycling, and walking and showing dogs.
However, some 60% or more of autistic people are also hypermobile. (Waving hello.) Yes, that’s me. I have hypermobile knees and hands. I’m researching the concept of “masked” hypermobility at the moment, as it may be possible that the chronic muscle tension I have is not necessarily all from the stresses of my life, but is masked hypermobility. Have my muscles tensed to stabilise hypermobile joints? That theory makes sense when I recall the time I dislocated T3 (the third vertebrae in the thoracic section of the spine) inwards. My osteopath was really scratching his head over how I did it, and how to get it back into its proper place so I could breathe properly again. My workout routines are to stabilise joints through the muscles around them. Hence, workout routines.
Thread 3. My financial situation already tells me that I’ll be renting for the rest of my life. (Because I spent nearly $300,0-00 on my late husband’s care, over and above his pension and the NDIS – Huntington’s Disease is expensive.) So, I have a plan that my retirement life will be peripatetic, calling to my ancient Romany DNA; van life, roaming around Australia. That will need strength, fitness, mobility and agility. I figure I’ve got 18 years to get ready for that. Hence, workout routines.
Thread 4. Sewing. Another special interest. But I don’t have any of my homemade garments in my wardrobe right now, because they don’t fit me at the moment. Weight loss isn’t the goal. Getting back into those dresses and skirts and blouses – that’s the goal. Hence, workout routines.
Bring all those threads together into my daily workout routines that I need to keep my workroom clean and tidy for. Avoid and deflect. I’m not cleaning. I’m making my workouts possible. Avoid the PDA, the RSD, the overwhelmed autistic freeze, the need for a body double. Avoid and deflect.
My daily workout routines – now on my fourth week.
Monday – knees and shoulders – toe raises, walking backwards, dynamic lunges, toe raises to heel lifts, static lunges, shoulder stretches, and twists
Tuesday – shoulders and arms – bent arm lateral raises, bicep curls, reverse bicep curls, hammer bicep curls, triceps curls, external and internal shoulder rotations, prone horizonal abductions, and prone lower arm raises. These have progressed from 500g weights to 2.5kg dumbbells, with sets increasing from 5 to 2 x 10.
Wednesday – hips – hip abductions, prone side leg lefts, cat/cow, hip adductions, high-kneed marching on the spot, and butterfly pose.
Thursday – core, all yoga poses – cat/cow, upward/downward dog, dead bugs, boat pose, half table pose, twisting boat, side bends, child pose.
Friday – yin yoga hip openers – sleep swan, butterfly, cat/cow, half butterfly, and a repeating flow from cat/cow to child to frog, back to child, then cat/cow
Saturday – whole of body strength – push-ups, split level lunges, squats, overhead presses, walking lunges, bent over dumbbell rows.
Sunday – gentle whole of body stretches. – marching in place, side steps, toe tape, and seated hamstring and quad stretches, seated calf and shin stretches, seated upper back and chest stretches, seated ankle rotations, wide legged forward bend, standing to raise to heel raise flow, shoulder rolls, and the weighted hula for some fun.
This is why I have been saying lately that my autism diagnosis has given me a new lease on life.
The Auld Skald's Fudgel 