Are you aware ?My wall of awareness.
There is no where to hide or take rest, the relentless churning over of thinking continues nonstop, even during sleep it is there. I have always been aware of its existence, it's there now, looking over my shoulder.
Occasionally something is said by someone or I see something and a tiny piece of new found awareness falls into place, each time I wonder why something so simple has alluded me for so long and how could I have possibly coped not being mindful of the new found knowledge. Slowly, very slowly the wall of awareness has grown, its big enough now for me to hide behind, it offers me a rest bite. I can take cover behind it while my brain continues its unrelenting thought process. The wall of awareness lives in my head; it sits next to the part of the brain that is both my friend and enemy. I am in many respects an onlooker, a second party able to step back and observe how my dyslexia manages my life. Anybody who understands anything about dyslexia knows that it affects 100% of what a dyslexic person is, not just the reversing of letters or all the other recognised dyslexic traits. My skills are as much a part of my dyslexia as my failings.
I am now able to retreat to my awareness wall, hide up and assess the way I think about things and hopefully see it as the outside world may perceive it. Being aware of my own dispositions has never been easy and each step of the way has bought with it its own challenges. The first challenge was learning tolerance, tolerance toward people's ignorance as to how other people think, what is so clearly obvious to one person can be a complete blind spot for another. There have been many challenges since learning the skills of tolerance; tolerance has by far been the biggest hurdle to cross.
What I would really like to do now is write stories, so the new challenge is having my poor literacy skills accepted. The response I receive after offering work I have written is usually the same. "The work needs a lot of amending" or "this bit needs more work" I refuse to amend something that is unique, something that is "me". The literacy world can take a run and jump, who gives a dam if a comer is in the wrong place or sentence too long. If I want to read an author's story I want to read what they write not what somebody else thinks is right. When I look at a Picasso painting I know I'm looking at original art straight from the artist hand and brain. If the art world had been restricted to second party "amendments" Picasso would have failed at the first hurdle along with many artists down the years.
So, I go and hide behind my wall of awareness, try and see the issues as others might see them, try and slip out of the influence of dyslexia. I have a dilemma. Am I now too old to fight the fight? Is my new challenge a challenge too far? Perhaps I'm missing something obvious and I need to wait for a passing comment or see something which allows the penny to drop, another new piece of awareness to put in my wall. In the meantime I will write, I will write free of outside influences and amendments. I will remain me and not allow others to correct where they think I go wrong, where I go wrong is important to me. If I make a mistake when drawing I have learnt to adapt it, make it fit the picture and often the mistake becomes the main part of the work.
Anyway, I now have a friend I call my awareness wall. It's nice having a retreat that I can hide behind while my brain chugs along being dyslexic. I wouldn't want it any other way.
Diary by Mick Bean
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Written on 2016-01-28 at 21:37
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