What if all of your defects and imperfections
Your diagnoses and non-neurotypical tendencies
Were signifiers of your strength, your genius, your wisdom
Your access to information that exists outside of the ordinary?
What if what has been deemed a limitation
Is, in fact, the bolt cutter that can cut off the shackles
And precisely what threatens the Authorities
Those who make a pretty penny off of keeping you small and awaiting their direction
Afraid of this inestimable power that boils within?
What if your inability to color inside the lines lies not in your
Blurred vision but in the 3d glasses that allow you to see the extra dimension where there is no sense of separation?
What if your profound demand for justice lies not in a diagnosis of autism, but in being yoked to the dharma, the truth that undergirds and moves all things?
What if what looks like gold in the everyday world is fool’s gold in that dimension
And what looks like pathology is the path out of the merry-go-round
Of a limited world?
Would you fight those who would remove your shackles, your limitations?
Would you argue with fury and passion to remain in the doghouse next to the mansion?
If you were given the key, would you use it to open the lock?
Would you pass it on to another, even if you had to sneak it to them?
In an insane world, sanity makes you look like a madwoman.
Your ability to play all the keys of life makes you look schizophrenic.
And your capacity to swing from the mycelium networks of consciousness to the rarified heights—well, that is bipolar.
That you can shift your aperture from dispersed throughout time and space and draw back into the narrowest focus—the highest state in mystical and meditative practices—well, that would make you attention deficit.
That movement, that rhythm, that is your insignia
That you were born a pioneer, a revolutionary
Here to break through the curtain that separates us from our birthright of vast open empty space
Wherein lies the greatest concentration—more dense than the material in a black hole—of wisdom.
One drop and all solutions appear
Not the least of which is the realization that there is no problem.
You are in on the joke.
You jacked into creativity itself,
the movies play across the screen
behind your eyes, the soundtrack in
the depths of your soul.
This mind wide open. No blindfold
No impediment to your view
This is what they call crazy,
mad, off your rocker.