Journeys with Autism

As I mentioned in my last post, ordering the things of space helps me to manage and reduce sensory disorientation and overload. Recently, I’ve found my love of organizing especially useful in creating a calm living environment.

In November, my family and I moved into our new house. Built in 1870, the house is actually somewhat old (by American standards), but we feel as though we’ve moved into a home built just for us. Our furniture fits perfectly into the available space. Nearly every room in the house gets plenty of good light, and each person in the family has a place to go when he or she needs time alone. It’s a wonderful, rambling house with hardwood floors and tin ceilings. Just right for us.

Fortunately, the house was completely empty when we moved in, so I haven’t needed to do a lot of heavy lifting to make the space work. Plus, our town has four second-hand stores—and I work at one of them—so I’ve been able to find a variety of things at very low prices.

In consultation with my husband, here’s what I’ve done to make the house a sensory-friendly place:

Color. I love bright, deep color, so one of the first things I did was to put up curtains in various colors: beige, red, blue, teal, and purple. For the kitchen windows, I simply used tension rods and hung up some of the colorful shawls I’d bought this past summer. I always buy second-hand rayon sarongs whenever I can find them. At different times in my life, they have served as wall hangings, tablecloths, curtains, and prayer shawls.

Patterns. I love to look at mandalas and find them very calming. I managed to find some curtains with mandala patterns and deep, rich, blue and teal backgrounds. My eyes are always following visuals, and it’s lovely to have something so bright and so calming at the same time.

Photographs. What to do with photographs? I have a huge number of pictures of my daughter at every stage of her life and a plethora of ancestor photos. My husband also has an abundance of photographs of his extended family.

For the most part, the pictures of our children are on the mantle in the living room and on the wall leading upstairs. It’s fun to walk up the stairs and to see the kids at different ages. It’s a bit like time traveling.

As for the ancestor photos, I could spend much of my day simply gazing blissfully at them (and then returning them to their box), but the question of how many to actually put on the walls is one I’m wrestling with.

In our last house, I had a whole wall of ancestor photos, and I loved it. It made me feel part of something larger than myself, and it eased a great deal of my Aspie loneliness. But, after awhile, the ancestors started overwhelming me with their presence. It felt too much like having a crowd of people in the living room. I ultimately (and mournfully) took down a large number of the photos.

Now, many of the ancestor photographs are sitting on the floor of my loft, ready to go on a wall or rest easily in the (very clearly labelled) box from which they came. My solution, at this point, is to scatter the ancestor photographs in different rooms in the house. So far, there are a few photos in the kitchen, which is a great place for them. My focus in the kitchen is on food, or on the colorful placemats on the table, or on the dishes that need to be done, so I can give the ancestors a passing glance without being drawn into their world. And when I need company, they are there.

Empty space. What beautiful words! I love empty space. I love being able to walk into a room and see most of the floor and wall space. I very much need a clear visual field. While living with a family doesn’t always make empty space possible, I’ve created as much space as I can in each room without driving my family nuts.

Symmetry. Another beautiful word! I try to make sure there is symmetry wherever I look. The photos need to be lined up properly. The furniture in each room needs to be in balance. Candle holders and pottery need to be arranged in easily recognizable patterns.

A room of my own. My loft is my personal, restorative space, and I’ve been able to create it with the right combination of empty space and beautiful objects to look at.

There is only one photograph in my loft, a photograph of my great-great-grandmother Rivka Mogulefsky Levine. I have a bond with this woman that I cannot explain. She died many years before I was born, and I recall no one telling a single story about her when I was a child. But when I first saw her picture, I fell in love with her. I find her presence very calming.

I also have a number of cool things hanging in my window: a string of multicolored cloth chickens with a bell at the end, wind chimes from Cape Cod, a sun catcher with dried flowers in it, an old beaded necklace, and a clay mask my daughter made some years ago at summer art camp. I have also set out some small pieces of pottery, along with my Djembe, and a vintage footstool and lamp. And then there is a futon, presently covered with one of my quilts and lots of comfortable pillows.

I love the saying, “If you’ve met one Aspie…You’ve met one Aspie.” The way I set up my living space may not work for everyone, but hopefully, I’ve passed on some useful ideas for creating a space that is also a sensory sanctuary.

© 2009 by Rachel Cohen-Rottenberg