Yesterday, I had an autistic adult take one of my group martial arts classes.
…And I’m almost positive I left feeling more inspired than he did.
To paint you a picture, he was as excited to take this class as Hulk Hogan would’ve been to get on a microphone in the middle of a wrestling ring and talk smack to a crowd of raging “Hulkamania” fans.
He was practicing his moves (which he hadn’t learned yet) in the office one-way mirrors, was excitedly greeting everybody who walked past to tell them he was going to be “battling for his new belt” today, and had about a thousand and one questions about martial arts and the school and myself that never quite satiated his appetite—and this was all before the class even started.
Once I got him into the class, he enthusiastically did every bow and handshake and followed each respectful tradition requested… he put his entire life force into each of the techniques taught… and he gave off an infectious energy to the other students he worked with that rippled its way around the room and raised the vibration of the whole class.
By the time the class was over… it was evident he had a blast. He couldn’t stop asking when he could come back and what other moves he could do and how he could get his white belt.
And yet ironically, it was I who found myself thinking, “I wish I was more like him.”
Completely present. Wholly engaged. Infectiously enthusiastic.
…Seemingly zero other worries or concerns in the world.