Alana had written a little while ago about being “separated from the world.” What does this look like for me?
Besides the obvious scarf and dress combo as a not-from-this-century sign, I haven’t thought about this subject consciously. Or maybe I do not think of it like this: If I must be a Called-Out-One, I must give away or stop doing this, that and the other. Folks like to give up stuff.
This is easier for Autistics, in some respects, especially this one. My memory is way too clear. Its like having a giant ROM drive (long-term memory) and a teeny-tiny RAM (short-term, “working” memory). Almost everything I read, see, hear, eat, meet, feel, is recorded into my long-term memory. True, in theory, this happens to everyone. The scary thing about my autistic mind is that I can access almost all of it.
So how does this pertain to Romans 5-7? If I record and can play back most everything my senses take in and what my emotions/mind conjure, I must be very careful with what I let in and mull over.
Over the years I naturally gravitated away from reading novels, watching tv or movies, where or with whom I spend my time. The make-believe world is intoxicating for the autistic. I know the movies or novels are not “real” in a superficial seven year old sense, but my mind has difficulty processing the imaginary in the context of the other sensory inputs.
I also lack social hardwiring. Stories, as they had been for centuries, are descriptions of possible social scenarios. Only recently have they been designed for pure entertainment. Its hard for me to sift out constructs as helpful or harmful. What might be a pastiche for 95% of the rest of the world is a potential social pattern for autistics.
The imaginary is also much more enjoyable than the real world. I can get lost in my head for long periods of time, day dreaming about stories I never write down or future real-life scenarios in my own life that almost never materialize. Have mercy on this sinner!
So you can see how dizzying this tightrope walk is above the sin-sick world. In some respects, I am thankful for my sensitivities because they allow me to know how wide the rope is.