I was riding through a field of daisies, on a lemon yellow bike, with a bunch of flowers sitting in the basket up front.  A stream somewhere close by sent out the soothing sound of its water playing with little rocks on their way down, while the mountains in the far distance poked teasingly at the clouds. The gentle breeze tickled my face and the sun was a perfect shade of gold. The birds chirped stories of faraway lands and butterflies and bees flew all around me like worries leaving my mind. As I was savoring the moment,a faint giggle, like of sound of bells, filled my ears. I looked around for the source, confused. It was my dream after all and this giggle was not supposed to be a part of it. As I focussed more on the giggle, it sounded more and more familiar…it was my son’s…and it was coming from right next to me. It was my son, giggling in his dreams. He was dreaming, and clearly having a lot of fun at it. It woke me up from my own beautiful dream but to watch him giggle with such abandonment was a more beautiful sight! I wondered what it must be about – was he being ticked in his dreams? Was he tickling someone back? Was he on a swing or a roller coaster and could feel the butterflies in his tummy or giggling as he rode a wave on the beach? Was he sharing a joke or maybe laughing at one? But hey, he cannot talk and has a language processing disorder so jokes don’t make sense to him. Can he still be laughing at those in his dreams? I wondered and gently stroked his hair as he drifted back into his sleep and his soft snores replaced the giggles.

My son is autistic. He cannot communicate and express himself so I tend to think for him, speak for him and assume things for him. Sometimes I am right where he wants me to be, and probably most of the other times I am way off but he has no way of telling me that so I arrogantly keep going as if I am his savior. In my mad rush to constantly be his advocate and voice, I sometimes forget to stop and watch him be himself, with no demands from me or the people around him. In all this craziness, I also forget that he can have his own dreams too. I found him giggling in his dreams, so I know he dreams and that he dreams of happy things. But while I claim to be the know-all for my son, I couldn’t even guess what exactly was it that made him giggle in his dreams. However, here I was claiming to know and work towards making his dreams come true!!!! It made me wonder what else he might be dreaming of and if my dreams and his align at all.

Over the years I have always wanted him to have neurotypical friends, to be called to playdates and birthday parties, or just have friends visiting him. I never stopped to think if that is what he wanted as well. Like so many people, he might not really want the company of others. He might enjoy being with himself. Maybe he likes to sit and watch and observe people but not really interact with them. He might dream of enjoying the silence of his own company and his thoughts, with no other distraction. However, in my ignorance, I might be constantly pushing him to say hi to everyone he comes across, shove him towards other kids so that he can mingle, or just keep asking him to socialize more. Maybe I am doing the exact opposite of what he prefers, imposing my expectations on him.

I keep pestering my son to bike, run or play with a ball. I have enrolled him in different special needs sports and keep pushing him to be more active. He prefers a more sedentary lifestyle. Maybe that’s what he prefers or maybe that’s what his body allows him to do. I have seen him enjoy watching nature- the clouds floating by, the raindrops falling, the trees and the grass swaying in the wind. Maybe he dreams of sitting in a lush green field by a lake, just enjoying the breeze on his face and watching the squirrels search for nuts. He probably dreams of reaching high up into the clouds on his swing and dipping his feet in their fluffiness. Maybe he dreams of these and not of being an athlete. I might be getting it all wrong, trying to make him imitate what his peers are doing.

I push for him to be included. Inclusion is the buzzword in the special needs world. I want him to sit with his neurotypical peers, study with them, perform with them, and play, and eat with them. I want him to be a part of everything they do. I never ask the question if that is what he wants too. Does being with people who don’t understand him or how he feels really make him happy? Does he want to be in a room filled with people who are too noisy for him and do not appreciate his sensory needs? Maybe my push for inclusion is not his desire. Maybe he likes being with those like him. His dream might be to be in a world that has people who are like him. Like everyone else, he might want to be with like-minded people and not with those who operate very differently from him. Maybe inclusion is my dream and not his.

I wonder if in his dreams he talks to us and shares his thoughts, and has a conversation about things that excite him, or is he still non-verbal in his dreams, struggling to make himself understood and seen? Does he even dream about being able to talk or do words seem insignificant in a world that he visits in his dreams? I wish I could know if it’s just me obsessing over his need to communicate or does he want this as much as I do.

To fit in this world, I have tried hard to change so many things in my son- make eye contact, don’t flap your hands, don’t make that sound, don’t laugh for no reason; stay in one place; don’t fidget so much; don’t listen to nursery rhymes anymore, you’re too old for that; there’s no reason to be anxious when no one else is; sit down with everyone…the list goes on!!! I’m always correcting him, trying to change him, and asking him to fit in. I never paused to think maybe he wants none of these. Maybe he wants to flap, jump, laugh, and watch Old McDonald on a loop. Maybe he wants to be different. Maybe his dream is to be himself and to be happy about it. Maybe he dreams that one day we all will be ok with him being him. He might want us to stop dreaming for him and dream with him instead. Maybe he was giggling in his dreams because he was in a world that was just this – a world of his dreams, not mine.