Your AIM This Week:
Salt Isn't Sugar
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“Don’t judge a book by its cover”
“Things aren’t always what they appear.”
“Salt and sugar look almost identical, but they taste very different”
These sayings and the common wisdom they share have been passed down from generation to generation for centuries.
They warn us to be mindful about the preconceived judgments we hold. They encourage us to be careful not to pre-conclude a person or situation… because we might be wrong.
Is the man who just walked past you sweating and shirt untucked because he is a slob and not sophisticated or is he sweating and untucked because he just stopped to help an elderly neighbor take their garbage out and then had to run part way to make it to work on time?
This week, we’ll explore how our assumptions and beliefs we hold about our kids can either limit or can open up new possibilities. I’ll share the wisdom of an old Chinese fable and you’ll hear an excerpt from my book Challenging the Myths of Autism. Let’s get started!
The Leaky Bucket
"Once upon a time in ancient China, there was a young monk who walked over a mile every day to draw water from a well and bring it back to the temple. The walk was long, so he carried two buckets slung on each end of a bamboo pole across his shoulders.
But the two buckets were different. One seemed perfect while the other was had several small cracks. So every time the young monk filled the two buckets with water and walked the mile back to the temple, the leaky bucket was half empty since water sprinkled out through the small cracks on its sides.
The leaky bucket was sad that it wasn’t able to bring back as much water, it wasn’t doing what a bucket was supposed to do, and thought it might be thrown away. And it felt hurt by some of the other monks and people who passed who judged the leaky bucket as a defect and sometimes even snickered as the monk passed by.
Well, one day, on the way to the well, the leaky bucket plucked up enough courage to speak to the young monk.
“Master,” it said apologetically, “I am wasting your effort, spilling the water you need. I understand if you want to leave me behind and find a better bucket.”
The young monk listened with empathy to understand the leaky bucket’s view and then replied, “let me show you a different view.”
At the well, the monk filled up the two buckets as usual, and began the long walk back, but this time he told the leaky bucket to look down at the sides of the road.
The side of the road where the so called “perfect” bucket passed over each day was barren. It was all dry dirt with not even a blade of grass.
Then, pointing to the leaky bucket’s side of the road, the young monk said, "See all of these beautiful flowers? They grow here only because of the water you sprinkle on them everyday. They owe their existence to you!
And because you helped to create this beauty, you have made my daily two mile walk more bearable. And because of the cracks in your sides, I am able to pick bouquets of flowers to bring to the poor elderly widows in town to brighten their life. And because you leak water every single day of the year, the bee farmer has bees who make honey all year to feed us.”
You Decide
From over 25 years of coaching parents and training autism therapists, I’ve witnessed up close how powerful it can be to change a belief. And the good news is that you get to decide what you believe. You are in control of how you interpret the world around you. Is a leaky bucket good or bad? Is the amount of energy your child have good or bad?
Can we learn to accept the differences in others? Can we embrace the reality that we are all different in some ways from each other: we think differently, we perceive sounds and sights differently, and we feel emotions differently.
As the parent or teacher of an autistic child, when we pause our assumptions for why a behavior is happening, we create space for us to look from a different view.
I learned this myself years ago on a therapy team in Massachusetts. I've written the details in an excerpt from my book:
Silent Intelligence
Intelligence isn’t always immediately obvious. Physical disabilities can limit a person’s ability to share and express their innate intelligence. Sadie had cerebral palsy and was diagnosed with autism. She had poor eye contact and spent a lot of the day slumped in her wheelchair, unmotivated to interact with others. Her parents told our group of therapists that they weren’t sure about her intelligence level since she was virtually non- verbal. On a recent IQ test, she scored 68. Any score below 70 is considered what used to be called “mentally retarded.” They explained she could say a few words,…but inconsistently, and described how oddly she would silently mouth words sometimes. She had had some speech therapy but her communication was still a mystery.
Our team’s first goal was to find games and toys and activities that interested this little girl. We weren’t trying to teach her anything yet except that we were friendly and interested in whatever she was interested in. We presented a whole range of activities including some physical play like tickle and wheel-chair dancing. Sadie showed us quickly that she could understand most of what we were saying. When she was motivated by something, she did her best to gather energy and, with great effort, she’d try to play with us. She was gentle and genuinely sweet. The best reward for our efforts was the huge smile she beamed when she liked a game, arching her head back looking right into our eyes.
After the first two days of play-sessions, we felt we had made a connection with Sadie and she was watching us with her eyes more and more. She seemed happier, but we still weren’t certain about her cognitive abilities. What kind of intelligence did she have? Could she learn to speak, for example? Then, during a therapy session on the third day, a therapist had heard Sadie say several words very clearly. He sang and did the actions to the “head-shoulders-knees-and-toes” while she moved her body as much as she could, looking straight at him the entire song. At the end of the song, Sadie said “Again!” Our senior therapist asked for more details, “How did she say it exactly?” “Kinda breathy…it was really soft…but I heard it…she definitely said the word.”, the therapist explained.
During the next session the senior therapist watched closely for other clues. Then he saw it. Each time Sadie whispered a word, she was sitting more upright. This seemed to happen when she was highly motivated. At the peek of a game her body was less slumped in the wheelchair, and she held her head up straighter. “That’s it!”, he thought, “She’s in a better position to make vocal sounds.” When she isn’t slumped on her diaphragm, her airway is more open.
Working with another staff, the senior therapist kneeled down in front the wheelchair. He told Sadie he had an idea that might help her talk more easily. He asked her if they could hold her under her arms to help her sit up straighter. She nodded and smiled yes. With her torso no longer slumped, he asked her to tell him how that felt. She mouthed a word but no sound came out.
From his position kneeling in front, he studied her behavior very closely and noticed she hadn’t taken a breath before speaking. Even though her airway was more open now, for some reason she wasn’t taking a breath before trying to speak. Her breath control (the breathing-talking cycle) wasn’t coordinated. He reached forward and put his hand lightly on her diaphragm, “take a breath Sadie,” he coached. She followed his cues and took a deeper breath. “How does that feel now?” he asked. “Good”, she answered out loud. It wasn’t a whisper either. And for the next few minutes, with the other therapist supporting Sadie to sit up as he reminded her to take a breath each time before she spoke, they had a little conversation. How do you like the games we’re playing with you, he asked? “It’s fun!”, she said clearly.
Her parents stood nearby with tears rolling down their cheeks. Sadie was talking. With more breath-control training and posture strengthening Sadie would go on to show, and tell, her family and teachers how smart she really was. Needless to say, along with her posture, her IQ scores surged upwards.
Your A.I.M.
This week, I invite you to give yourself the chance to take a new perspective…. To view your child and their behavior without conclusions. It’s okay to sit to the side while your child plays and to simply observe. See from a different view. Watch them as if it’s for the very first time. Watch them with a curiosity to learn something new about them.
And if you are interested to read more real-life stories like Sadie’s and insights from my multi-disciplinary approach, you can get a copy of Challenging the Myths of Autism at Amazon. I’ll include the link below.
Don’t forget to follow me on Instagram at ThriveGuide.co and please forward this week’s A.I.M to a parent or teacher who you think will benefit.
Thanks and remember, change IS possible!

Jonathan Alderson
Autism Expert
Founder, ThriveGuide
Author, Challenging the Myths of Autism
Get Challenging the Myths of Autism on Amazon
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Created by Autism Specialist.
Jonathan Alderson, Ed. M., draws on 25+ years of supporting autistic children.
Completely free resource.
No strings attached. Just a way for us to support as many families as possible.
Completely free resource.
No strings attached. Just a way for us to support as many families as possible.
Created by Autism Specialist.
Jonathan Alderson, Ed. M., draws on 25+ years of supporting autistic children.


As ever - so thoughtfully presented and nudging us all to be 'listening with our heart, not just our ears - and seeing with our heart and not just our eyes !!