Some of life’s most poignant lessons come from the least expected places. For me that often means coming from my youngest son, Joshua.
As said here many days, for those who believe special needs equates to some lesser quality of life, I contend you have not met my Josh. He is vibrant and sensitive and incredibly insightful; he, too, is often better with people than I.
One of the many things I admire about Josh is that he doesn’t hide his emotion. That doesn’t mean he takes it out on unfortunate others, but it does mean that when he’s happy, we all know it. When he’s excited, his enthusiasm brightens up everyone else in the room. And when he’s mad, he’s really mad. There is no doubt whatsoever.
We adults — well — we’re better at hiding things, being fairly well versed in managing the impressions we wish others to have of us. The sharing of emotions, though, is typically a higher priority for Josh than managing those impressions.
Last week, no less, Josh was mad.
Let me begin by explaining that Josh loves many things… from Batman and Disneyland, to nachos and mozzarella cheese sticks, to his two older brothers and Joey Tribbiani. And consistent with his emotional expression, when Josh loves something, that zestful glee is 100%, absolutely contagious. Yes, Josh’s love is contagious.
Note that one of the things on that list of things he loves is sushi. While we don’t get too into the raw fish or eely edibles, Josh loves creating a cold rice combo with a small vegetable and shrimp garnish, wrapped in seaweed, and topped with a modest crunch. Thankfully, Wednesdays are often “Sushi Day” at school.
But last Wednesday, he had a problem.
Someone had graciously decided to bless Josh’s special needs class with a thoughtful gift. They were bringing lunch to the entire class, purchasing Arby’s roast beef sandwiches for everyone in the room.
For over a week, in fact, Josh had expressed his joy that someone was bringing them Arby’s!
And he continued to express that joy… that is… until Wednesday morning when he awoke, realizing that the acceptance of the gift meant no sushi. Remember: Josh loves sushi.
He was ranting and raving and unquestionably grumpy.
“I am so mad!”
Such was a mere one of his angry refrains.
Allowing the authenticity of his expression to play out, I felt no need to squelch any emotion until he kept repeating himself with even more ratcheted up responses. His continued expression was causing him to lose focus.
“Josh,” I finally said, during one small break in the ranting. “Do you see what’s happening?”
He looked at me with those big blue eyes that kind of wanted to stay mad, but still keenly aware that he should at least listen to other potential sources of wisdom.
“You are so mad, your anger is keeping you from being thankful. Your anger is getting in the way of seeing and doing what’s right.”
To be clear, Josh did not become instantly happy; as noted, he’s not one to fake how he feels. But he was able to stop ranting, surrender his anger, go to school, and then offer his thanks. He was able to keep his anger from getting in the way.
Respectfully…
AR
Love, love, love this!