What constitutes a beautiful mind? Is it one that perceives sound, seamlessly
tells skeletal muscles to move, or brings words to the mouth without an utterance
of a stutter? Is a mind beautiful when
it enables an artist to paint a masterpiece, compose a concerto, or write a
best-seller? Is there beauty to be found
in the calculations of an engineer, the discoveries of a scientist, or the
convictions of a preacher?
I find myself confronted with these questions most
often when I interact with people who have intellectual disabilities. I’m reminded of how much I personally love
deep thought and reflection. I wonder
what it would be like to experience life with a mind that works differently
than my own. I am challenged with the
desire to see the beauty that lies within intellectual limitation.
I remember the first time I met a child with severe
autism. I watched him for a week during
the summer as he struggled to cut paper with a scissors, interact with other
children, and speak clearly. Usually, he
moaned. I wasn’t sure how to interact
with him until one day during snack time.
He walked up to me silently and held out his Capri Sun and straw. I looked at him, understanding his
predicament. “Do you need some help?” I
asked. He silently nodded. I inserted the yellow tube into his drink and
handed it back to him. Suddenly, he did
something unexpected and wonderful—out of deep gratitude, he gave me a
hug!
When I reflect on that encounter, I realize that a
beautiful mind might simply be one that knows how to give and respond to love.
Sometimes when I interact with people who have
intellectual disabilities, I feel like I catch glimpses of the freedom that can
exist within intellectual constraint.
When a mind can’t comprehend everything it should, it seems to focus on
the simple matters in life—those that are most important. There’s one person I know with an
intellectual disability who every time she sees me, makes a conscious effort to
say hello, sometimes with words, sometimes with a wave. Her greetings have challenged me to reconsider
my priorities, to slow down, and perhaps fill my mind with fewer
thoughts—creating space to take in the humanity that surrounds me. After all, are there many things more
important to notice than when one human being acknowledges another? This is the type of intellection that I find
absolutely stunning!
What struck me most recently was an experience that
I had this weekend. Some girl friends
and I went to pack meals at Feed My Starving Children for a few hours on
Saturday. It is fun for a while, but the
reality is that the task of scooping chicken, soy, veggies, and rice rapidly
becomes routine. My mind quickly started to wonder as I thought about how non-stimulating
this task was and how, if I had a choice, I would rather be involved in the
engineering team who developed the food recipe than the one packaging it. I’m getting my doctorate for Pete’s
sake! I wanted to scream 45 minutes
into our shift. I can do more than this! I ended up sealing bags of food next to a
man who was cognitively delayed. He had
come with his family and was given the job of stacking bags of food into piles
until they were ready to be boxed. He
couldn’t call out to the warehouse when the box was finished and I suspect he
would have been overwhelmed at the task of scooping food—what he could do, he
did with a smile.
The beauty of that man’s heart, mind, and motives
far exceeded my own. He was working with
all that he had to serve others and the Lord with joy.
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