Slouching toward Montauk
Not too worried about some fabulous unachievable autistic Nirvana… These days.
Let’s say… I’m in my 70s now. Happiest time of my autistic life. Not too worried about some fabulous unachievable autistic Nirvana… These days. . . Now, here’s that story. My grandfather was a… complex man. He slept beside an orderly nightstand. Tucking Mein Kampf tight In its tidy drawer every night. And… He used to take me sailing out to Montauk Point… a sea journey from Bay Shore, Long Island… at least as he sailed it on the ocean side… swinging out into the deep water… In his telling, it was a fabulous place. Where a sandstone lighthouse lit the waves, warning of danger. Where the grass on the golf course grew sideways, and every single damn tree bowed toward the West… From the eternal wind blowing onshore. His heaven on earth, he called it… . . The wind carries all the sound away… But its roar in my ears creates a kind of hushed silence inside me I always experience high anxiety as we lose sight of the shore. Just sky, waves & constant rolling… Disoriented. Like a whiteout in a blizzard. If you throw in some seasickness. But after an hour or so, I make my way to the prow. And sit. Wind on my face Sun on my body Salt breeze filling my chest… Quieting my heart. . . . Anxiety? Disorientation? I observe the fixed lighthouse In the far off dusk. Splashing its light bravely into the spray. Knowing deep In its soft Native sandstone heart… Time and tide wait for it. I stop caring about the shoreline. And the anxious hell waiting for me on the other side. For hours at a time. . . . . Who cares about sailing toward Montauk and its fabulous trees… anymore… Or.. ever again? I’m busy breathing in… this fabulous moment here
To view the complete poetry collection, “every clock is a handgun pointed at my head — Songs of Autistic Innocence …and Experience.”
An earlier version of this poem was published with the podcast, “Slouching Toward Joy: My Best 6 Phases To An Actually Autistic Relief” with information, discussion, further reading, and more illustrations.