Dear Friends,
April is almost ready to see itself out and sun is perhaps finally arriving in Massachusetts. One strange thing about this month - besides the fact that it seems to have lasted much longer than has ever seemed possible for 30 days - is that the current crisis swept away many of the normal stresses of Autism “Awareness” campaigns. While there were so annoying blue puzzle pieces here and there, most people were too busy to say all of the dreadful, fear-mongering things about autistics they usually do during April.
I feel very strongly about this not only because I have had the pleasure to work with wonderful kids on the spectrum over the years, but because I’m also autistic. So when I think about wiggling and fidgeting, I don’t think about distraction, but about self-regulation. We all have ways we self regulate, but for children and autistic people of all ages, it may be more obvious. But that doesn’t make it a bad thing.
What many neurotypical adults overlook about fidgeting, especially with the increasing popularity of “fidget toys” in recent years, is that kids actually need to be taught how to fidget if you want to introduce a new behavior. There’s a difference between the totally passive hair twirling or flapping or doodling and being handed a fidget. It requires internal recalibration.
In one of my past Godly Play classrooms, leadership attempted to introduce fidgets during our large story circle. This was largely not a successful undertaking. The kids were interested in them, sure, but they were more interested in the fidgets than in the story. It raises the question: what makes fidgeting a productive, self-regulatory behavior rather than just play?
Fidgeting, at its best, fulfills a specific needs. A child who needs to move their legs or rock isn’t going to find a small handheld object fulfilling, and the wrong texture can be more distressing than helpful.
Of course, you may be noticing something similar for yourself or your children these days. You want to move, but can’t find a direction, or you try to meditate but it’s too difficult to quiet your mind. We’re all living with a lack of regulation these days.
Here’s my recommendation for the moment, then: allow for impulsiveness - in yourself and those around you. Wiggle, dance, don’t judge yourself for that unfinished project. Your nervous system is telling you something. And, when we come back together, remember how this felt. There are children, and adults, in your congregation and broader community who experience this all the time.
As for me, I took some time to dance around in my driveway on the single nice day we had this week, when it wasn’t cold or rainy here in New England. It was the best thing I did all week. A former contact improv dancer, it was what I needed to calm an anxious body. What can you do?
Read: Nurturing an Autistic Son’s Spiritual Life from the New York Times, a gentle reminder that we can never fully understand what observance and worship mean for others, but we can support that life.
Explore: The wide world of fidgets! Fun & Function makes a lot of great products, but really they’re a springboard for understanding the full breadth and depth of sensory input. How do these tools help you understand what makes worship welcoming to you and what might make formation and worship spaces welcoming for others?
May you find peace this week, and may you recognize how often peace doesn’t look like stillness.
Be well,
Allison Bird