Dyslexia, Perception, and the Art of Happiness

One of the major factors in my life's narrative is that I'm dyslexic, and much more so than I ever let on.  I covered my dyslexia maybe because that I never wanted anyone to think I was less than.  As a child, I devised all kinds of techniques to avoid being called on to read out loud in class or to have to go up to write on the chalk board.  When it appeared that the teacher was about to call on someone to come up, I would immediately start to feel flush and faintly; like I could not breathe. Little beads of sweat would break out on my forehead, and basically I would feel like I was about to die (as an adult I've come to realize these episodes were panic attacks).  This scenario played out thousands of times throughout my childhood.  I was aware that my brain just could not perceive which order the letters of a word should go, even which way the letters in a word should face, and even the correct order of the words in a sentence.  The times I would be called on to go write on the chalk board felt like a living Hell.  I would get things so totally wrong, the other kids would laugh, the teacher would correct me, and here is the kicker - my brain could not even see or perceive what I had written incorrectly.  To me it looked just perfect.  Of course this affected me academically, effected my view of school, and still to this day I will feel the symptoms of a panic attack if I'm in a situation where I might be called on to read or write in front of a group. This is a major thread that runs through my entire life.  And, by the way, this is the most I've ever shared about this.

Just so you will not feel sorry for me, I have never doubted my intelligence.  I always felt, even as a child, that I had a high intelligence and that has been professionally verified since I've been an adult. I am very thankful for the gift of a computer.  Once I was able to use a computer my grades went from failing to winning academic awards.  Still to this day however, I struggle to hand write even a simple note.  I am thankful that I have had a job that primarily uses my voice and my ears.  My self image is that I am a good public speaker and I am a good listener.  I have not been all that effective when it comes to administration and facilitating departmental ministries (why I don't want a big church).  However, I can give a barn burner of a sermon and if one needs a priest to talk to, my ears are loving.

The biggest gift my dyslexia has given me however, is this fact that I do not see mistakes.  When I did have to go up and write on the chalk board it would always look perfect to me, even though it was a mess.  This trait has followed me through my entire life.  Even the times when things were hard, painful, ugly, dark; my brain would not allow me to see the mistakes or to view the situation as bad.  Things looked just perfect to me.  The result of this is that I've had the wonderful gift of being happy my entire life.  There is no doubt in my mind that happiness and perception are directly connected.  Jesus said, "If the eye of the body is healthy then what you perceive is light, but if the eye is not healthy what you perceive is darkness and it is gross darkness".  The art of living with happiness is directly connected to your ability to perceive all things as good, and perfect, and right, and light.  The spiritual practice of working with your perceptions is extremely important to those serious about their spiritual journey.  It may come a little easier for me because of my dyslexia, but the key to happiness for everyone is to develop the skill and ability to perceive all of life - the good and bad, the joys and the pain, the light and the darkness, the times you get it right and the times you get it wrong - as good, as gift, as blessing - even perfection.

My dyslexia has greatly affected my theology and Christian practice as well.  I really don't think about sin and judgement.  I don't really pester my mind with thoughts about the fall of humankind and the curse and the like.  And I'm way too busy living and loving to waste any precious time worrying or judging another person's morality.  The thought never even crosses my mind to try and figure out who's lost or not.

What you see on the chalk board may look like a mess.  If so, then that is your reality (and good luck with that).  But what I see looks perfect and I would appreciate it if you would not tell me otherwise.  Your perception is your reality and my perception is my reality and everything looks good from here; even if what you see is a mess.