Taking Up Space, Holding Space at Salzburg Global

It’s almost the end of April, and I have been trying to post a daily personal thought-piece on Linked-In on my “taking up space” as a proudly Autistic human in this grand swirl of humanity. Why Linked-In? Simply because I wanted to. Yes, I know it’s not really the kind of thing people post on Linked-In. I see that I am once again doing something almost nobody else is doing. But I am not bothered if nobody reads it or likes it or whatever. I am merely taking up space, holding space, nothing more grand, clever or fanciful. Lucy taught me how to enjoy a posture of meekness without relinquishing enjoyment and security in one’s unique Beingness. It is possible. Not always “comfortable”, but it is another form of Clement Space to me. I thrive better this way. Thank you, Lucy.

I am also wanting to do my part this April, as an Autistic human, in a month that is controversial – loathed by some Autistics and welcomed by others, the latter especially in my region of the world. But not as an Advocate, a label that was placed on me that I never asked for. The hat just did not fit well at all, though I wore it as best as I could, especially in my country when I first returned from Australia, when there was nobody else to stand in the gap. Now, I see there are many powerful advocates, the field of advocacy does not need me, not even in my own country anymore. To be honest, I am relieved. I have been on social media since the days when Facebook began as an invitation-only platform, and blogging was the only way to reach and connect with other Autistic humans. Back then, I did not worry about ‘likes’ of ‘followers’, I don’t think it was even a ‘thing’ at the time. I never did put much importance in this, I was reticent even when the ‘following’ and ‘liking’ started to trend into a full blown slugging match, though I did think that I ought to get in on the act a bit more, but of course failed miserably because my heart and soul were not aligned with that movement anyway, and now, at this point of my journey, it completely does not matter at all. The only caution and thought I have learned through the years to exercise is for my own safety and privacy, because there is so much that is awful about social media these days. For me, I maintain a presence because I want to, and because it is easier to update my few friends and supporters this way, but my main focus is on being a witness to my own journey, telling my personal story wherever I am welcomed, at every interstice I possibly can. My mission is simple. I do all nowadays in honour of Lucy Like-a-Charm, who showed me another dimension of perceiving, receiving and living, and how to be human in my own best possible way. I admit that the ability to choose this path is a luxury and privilege for which I remind myself to be grateful always. I just want to tell our story, nothing more.

This thought-piece is about my personal experience of the observation and upholding of diversity, equity, and inclusion, and receiving the supports I requested, during my latest adventure in Salzburg.

For one intense week, I was ‘taking up space’ as one among many Fellows of Salzburg Global, hailing from all over the world, at the programme, “Creating Futures: Art of Narrative”, housed in the magnificent Schloss Leopoldskron, home of Salzburg Global. I was the only openly Autistic and openly disabled person there. But I learned a great deal about diversity, equity and inclusion from everyone around me. We can never claim to know everything. Life is a constant growing and learning journey, after all. Besides, the more we discover, the more we know, the more we realise the more we do not know.

How did it go? Well, I received the supports I requested, generously, impeccably and without question. I had previously asked for a quiet room on a low floor, if possible. I was not expecting much, but what they gave me was overwhelmingly above my expectations. My room was not just quiet, but serene, it was Clement Space. It was indeed on a low floor so that I could walk up the stairs if I wanted and so I wasn’t dependent solely on the lift, but it was also near the stairs, lift and a few steps away from the Fellows Room where we had our meetings every day. (I didn’t discover the last detail until someone told me, silly me.) To add to my absolute delight, it was oh so comfortable and spacious, and the view was breathtaking. How I wish Lucy could have been there in person with me. She would have loved the room, and the beautiful grounds! I woke up to a fabulous view, and the soundscape was a genteel, soothing blend of ducks, geese, birds and soft human noises woven together. (Though I am very upset because my HN1 recorder broke down and failed to retain all the beautiful soundscapes from my window that I wanted to capture! Yes. So disappointing. I should have brought more back up equipment. Now, I only have the poor quality ones recorded on my iPhone 15 pro max. But I digress, so back to the point!) Everyone was lovely, I think there is just a general climate of gentleness and respect all around, disability or not, a hallmark, I observe, of Salzburg Global and hence the whole of Schloss Leopoldskron – at least that was my experience. I am aware there may be others who may beg to differ, as humans are eclectic as eclectic can be anyway, but I speak only for myself, and that has value enough for me.

The first night, at dinner, I asked to dine alone, or at least at a “quiet table”, and they set it up for me immediately. At first, because they were unprepared, they set up a small table in the room next to the Marble Hall where the others were dining. Because of that, I dined completely alone in the otherwise empty room. It was beautiful, but a teeny bit awkward, because I didn’t really want to be treated as “special” in this grand way. But thereafter, my quiet table was situated in the Marble Hall, where everyone else was, which made it all the more inclusive, accessible and comfortable. There was only one brief hiccup: at lunch one day, I had taken my food and settled at the usual quiet table, when I was approached by someone who seemed to be a junior F&B staff, and politely told I should not dine there, that I should dine with everyone else, at the tables already set up. Yes, I did notice they had not prepared the table in the same way, I had to help myself to the water and juice this particular time. I offered to move, but he said I could stay, “But only this time.” I couldn’t understand the reason he was trying to give me, but he was very nice, so I did not press the issue. That evening, at dinner, I didn’t want to create any conflict so I simply dined with the others at the larger tables. In any case, my other Fellows are all very lovely people and it was most pleasurable sitting with them, so the only setback I faced was simply not having some physical-sensory respite for those few precious moments within a busy, demanding day. In fact, I deliberately chose a couple of times to dine with the others, because I wanted to, I felt more energetic at the time, and because I liked being with them and our conversations mattered to me. Access and support is about having the choice, isn’t it? And I am grateful for that. Throughout, there was absolutely no feeling of being ‘left out’ or discriminated against, unlike other experiences among non-autistic people at various events. In fact, I felt more welcome and ‘part of the whole’ here than even at many autism conferences! I like to think that it was because there really wasn’t any discrimination at all, that everyone made an effort because of the wide diversity we were all conscious of, but if you are more negative-minded, you may attribute that to my own social cluelessness, perhaps. Regardless, if I didn’t feel it, then does it matter anyway?

The next morning, someone, I think a senior F&B staff, approached me at breakfast, the minute I stepped in, and apologised for the previous day’s mix up, without my having to raise the issue at all. She then personally guided me back to my usual quiet table, a cosy, lovely spot next to a window and the door leading into the balcony that overlooks the little lake. It has a view of the magnificent mountain, with beautiful soft sunlight streaming in. And the acoustics in that corner somehow was less assaultive, there was hardly any echo or reverberation from the many conversations taking place at meal times. The best seat in the house, in my opinion!

Throughout the week, I participated in the vigorous programme, just as we all did, as we all should. It was about being a dynamic part of a whole. I learned about others’ narratives – of marginalisation, persecution, some even life-threatening, censorship, discrimination, and became in awe of their feisty spirits to keep going amidst the opposition and difficulties, to keep on making art, keep on caring about their causes, and keep on learning, expanding, without compromising on what they feel are their fundamental core values. These are human responsibilities, not specific to Autism, neurodiversity or disability. There, for the week, I was simply a human, a different human among many different humans being different and yet sharing a solidarity because of our differences, not despite.

We must never give up advocating for rights. I hugely respect Autistic advocates who do so tirelessly. But it is not my calling. For me, my very existence, and my will to continue existing, is my own way of ‘advocating’, my one encompassing act of resistance. I am simply taking up space. And telling my story, my way. Narratives have power in themselves. When narratives are shared, the power is compounded and multiplied across dimensions.

For this Autistic human, my only one regret about this amazing experience was that it was too intensely packed for one like me to make the connections with other humans as I would have liked to do. Due to my Autistic hyper senses and monnotropic mind, I need a great deal of solitude for respite and restoration of sensory and mental energies, and the sacrifice was that I failed to get to know as many of my cohort of Fellows as I really wanted to. If only it were spread over a longer period of time, and hence less densely packed. I do not mean to tone down on the richness of the sessions, I would have in fact loved to hear more in-depth presentations of the groundbreaking work that everyone was doing, hear more of their narratives etc., but rather, I wish there was more space for connecting in a less frenetic, full-on way. There were many people I wanted to spend more time chatting with, others I could have said much more than just a passing “Hello” to, but I could not be super-charged enough to achieve that for myself. Of course, we can still continue to connect via email and social media, but it just isn’t the same, is it? The ambience, the in-situ moments, they whizzed away too quickly for a slow-paced person like me. I had to make a choice between taking care of my sensory exhaustion so that I do not become physically sick (which I did one afternoon and had to miss out on a few valuable presentations because of a massive headache triggered by the overwhelming echoes in the room and the particularly piercing lighting system) or to push myself to breaking point because there were people I’d like to connect better with. I had to choose the former. Yes, it is usually something I have to do when at large busy events like this one. No matter how much I wish I could connect better socially, no matter how friendly and inclusive the other humans in the space are, I am limited in my energies. Usually, it matters little to me, but this time around, it did matter, because the people were ones I really wanted to chat with, to hear their stories in greater depth, to connect with at a deeper human level. That is the only consideration that I wish the programme had accorded to me, but I am only one among many, and I am not sure if anyone else feels the same, because I have not heard from others on this. Of course, I do understand about time, logistics and budget constraints. I am filled with gratitude as it is, for this opportunity at all. And I hope this will not be my last trip to Salzburg Global. As for the people I failed to connect better with, perhaps if it were meant to be, we will meet again someday somewhere?

Thank you, Salzburg Global! And thank you Lucy Like-a-Charm!

Here are photos of Lucy-stuffy and Lucy-feltie at our delightful “quiet table” in the gorgeous Marble Hall of the Schloss Leopoldskron.