It has been a wildly wonderful couple of weeks in my house. In between cycles, Kyle has been doing a whole bunch of living.  His life has been full and rich with travel and other new experiences. It has been so rewarding to know he is enjoying himself out in the world.

Neil (my husband) and I also got to experience the magic of Zion National Park. Just the TWO of us! We were in hiking heaven as we soaked up the incredible scenery. Nestled between the red rocks of Zion Canyon, it was easy to find peace and experience a taste of living in the moment.

Now we are home. The magic of the previous two weeks has come to a halt for Kyle. As usual, his cycles are following true to the cycles of the moon. The new moon has replaced the full moon as the mysterious trigger. Time for him to close down. That's all he can do when overwhelmed by this thing that seems to overtake him without regard to the fact that he is having the time of his life out in the world. He must stop until it passes.

How does he find peace during this challenging, sometimes torturous time? And how do we? The fumes of the last two weeks dissipate quickly though we try to use the magic of our attitude to breathe and attempt to remain at peace, as best we can. It's a process with a roller coaster rhythm.

We hear about it all the time. Peace exists in the moment, in the here and now. We strive to live more in the moment but it can seem to elusive, so fleeting. Often,  we are missing the moment because we are off romping in the future (worrying, planning, doing in our minds). We also frequent the past (regretting, replaying, ruminating). Let's not forget complaining and wishing things were different and that we were elsewhere. 

This morning I had a short, personal, one guest pity party doing all of the above. Fortunately,  it wasn't long before I'd had enough of my own complaints and decided to take some action.

I held Kyle. He did not ask to be held this time but I volunteered. I squeezed myself into his chair with him and offered the opportunity and he accepted it quickly. He melted into my arms, allowing the soothing music and deep pressure to comfort and reassure him. It was reassuring to me too.

In that moment, I knew there was no place else for either of us to be. He needed the comfort and so we sat for a long time, just being. It occurred to me while "being" that if I am not thinking about other things I need to be, should be, or want to be doing, if I am not wishing this wasn't happening, if I am right here fully doing what I am doing as if there is nothing else to do in that moment (which in reality, there isn't), then it feels as if all is well. 

That's it!  I found it. For awhile, there was just that moment and the next and the next.  And there it was.  Peace. If you are reading this in mail go to www.AutismWithAttitude.com to view photos.