I've been reading Hardwiring Happiness, which shows us how we can take in and savour more of the good moments in our lives, retraining our brains which have evolved into a kind of "velcro for the bad," as neuropsychologist Rick Hansen calls it.
Yes, that resonated with me. More often than not I feel a kind of defensive vigilance about my son with disabilities. My mind is usually in a hyped-up worry state about something in the future, now that he’s on the precipice of an uncertain adulthood, or calling up painful memories from the past. Because of his anxiety, which manifests itself in compulsive behaviours, others often see him as “bad” and a “problem.” When these images litter my mind, the base of my skull is taut and tense. I get stuck in futile rumination.
Yesterday one of my daughters told me she had a funny dream. "We were all in this massive car and Ben was driving," she said. "He was driving really well—fast and dodging obstacles like garbage cans, people and animals.” She moved her arms to mimic steering a wheel. “It was almost like we were in a video game except it was real."