Skip to main content

Through the wardrobe



I don't care about reality. You have it, you keep it and take care of it, and tell me all about it if you like. I'll pet it a little and pretend to understand, to know what you mean when you say

The real world matters, we all have to live in it

This reality is what counts, this is what we have

I know this is true because I can feel it and see it

It does you good to live in the real world

You have it, have the grand plans and new schemes, have the walk to work and the run to keep up. I don't want it. I won't answer the door to it, or include it in my limited plans for getting through today, for walking free in my own unreal, unseen world.

I'm unrealistic (apparently). I need to do these real-world, fact-based, hard-edged tasks to make everything happen like it's supposed to. Who made these rules? Does it matter if I fit in? Who cares if I do? I don't care, why should you?

Have it to yourself, you like it so much. You cuddle its hard edges and polish it so it shines in the bright, blinding sun pouring in through your uncluttered, shining windows. Have it where everyone can see it and remark how well done you are.

Later, when the sun goes down, plug in the spotlight and shine it on your reality so it can never sit quietly in darkness. Who knows what might happen if you let the night fall? Or if, tip-toeing into new waters, you lit it only with a soft candle instead of a harsh light. What might it look like then?

How would its hard edges change in the flickering from one candle? What might you not be able to see? How would it feel to lose sight of the corners, to see the edges you had felt so often fall away as if they were instead something living and not so accurately measured as what came before?

Would you be afraid? Would you wonder what really sat behind the candle, looking almost as if it moved in the glow?

Would it feel, perhaps, as if the candle hid more than it showed and the dark room behind your beloved reality was really not there at all, had never really been there, had been a clever illusion held in place by what you constructed and lit and admired every day as your own besotted creation.

It's a gentle grip that never lets go. I can't tell you what lies behind the dark or moves within the candle, or what it was that, on looking, had gone before you saw it clearly. Light the candle, it's better than letting the darkness in all at once, and let the room grow past what you expected to find.

And in the morning, as the sun builds behind the glass, look closely to see if your reality is still as you remember.


© Amanda J Harrington 2016


My books on Amazon
My own website for books and tuition


Find me on Facebook and Twitter!


Read my Aspergers blog
And my fairy blog

Popular posts from this blog

A Guide to your Aspie

So, you have your new aspie and are wondering what to do with him/her. Depending on size and gender, some of these instructions may need to be followed with caution but we are confident that you will be able to get the best out of your aspie for many trouble-free years to come!

(Disclaimer: we are not responsible for any physical, emotional or financial harm that may come to you when following these instructions. Once unboxed, your aspie is not eligible for our guaranteed swappage and refurbishment policy. Please have a good look at the aspie through the window provided before unboxing).

1. Unbox carefully and without making physical contact with the aspie. Pull down the box using the flaps provided and allow them to step free by themselves.

2. Allow your aspie free rein, to explore their surroundings. For ease of capture, we recommend not unboxing in an area that is too large or too small. Open fields would not be suitable, unless you are a long distance runner. Small rooms are to b…

Aspies don't like surprises!

Interwoven in so many of my posts and comments about aspergers has been the notion of aspie reactions to life, the universe and everything. It always seems to be reactions, have you noticed that? The aspie, in defence as usual. This is because we don't often expect the outcomes we're presented with, so we do end up defending ourselves against yet another surprise.


This is why aspies don't like surprises - every blooming day has them and they're very rarely nice. I don't mean that every day I open the post and I've won the Reader's Digest draw or there is a bunch of flowers from a secret admirer on the front step. Neither do I mean that people shower me with unexpected compliments or the cake turns out better than expected.

No, I mean the kind of surprises that are small enough to act like bullets, slipping through the mithril vest of aspergers and into the defenseless heart.

The sort of surprise that happens in conversations with people who should know bett…

Spotting an aspie adult

Have you ever wondered how to spot an aspie adult, at a distance, without having to get too close? It would be so convenient, wouldn't it? To be able to detect the aspieness before you are drawn in, before there is any danger of becoming part of their mad world and waking up one morning, trying to work out where it all went wrong and what happened to all your socks.

Bearing in mind there are always exceptions that prove the rule, here is what you should look for.

In the supermarket I often wonder if I have spotted a fellow aspie. Walking along the aisles, it's easier to people watch than shop, usually because I've forgotten what I need. The supermarket is a good open space where you can spot aspies as they grapple with the complex practicalities of staying alive by food shopping.

The walk: Yes, from a distance or as they pass by, the walk is a dead giveaway. It seems to veer towards extremes, either a fast paced booster effect from A to B, or a meandering wander with no vi…