The Attention Compass

Posted by Eric Wilson

Recap from Parts 1 & 2: My son Aidan’s innocent question at Target—”Why do you always think about the next thing instead of this thing?”—revealed that I’d been missing profound wisdom in his autistic way of experiencing the world. His concrete thinking, present-moment awareness, and authentic communication weren’t deficits to fix but gifts to receive. His autism naturally operates at higher consciousness levels than my scattered neurotypical patterns.

The transformation happened on a Tuesday.

Aidan was having what the world calls a “meltdown” because his after-school routine had been disrupted. In the past, I would have scattered my attention in four directions—worrying about what people thought (North), comparing him to neurotypical kids (South), regretting that I hadn’t prepared him better (West), and panicking about his future independence (East).

But this time, I brought my attention to center and simply stayed present with him.

Instead of trying to stop his distress or fix his reaction, I sat beside him and said, “This is really hard for you. I’m here.”

After a few minutes, he looked up and said, “Dad, you feel different when you’re not trying to change me.”

In that moment, I realized accepting Aidan’s autism hadn’t just changed how I saw him. It had changed how I saw difference itself—in him, in me, and in everyone around us.

The Acceptance Revolution

For years, I’d been trying to help Aidan succeed despite his autism. But that “despite” was the problem. It positioned his neurological differences as obstacles to overcome rather than qualities to honor.

The shift from “despite” to “because of” changed everything.

Instead of: “Aidan succeeds despite being autistic” I learned: “Aidan succeeds because his autistic brain sees patterns others miss”

Instead of: “We manage despite the challenges”
I discovered: “We thrive because challenges teach us what really matters”

Instead of: “He’s doing well despite his differences” I realized: “He’s teaching us wisdom because of his differences”

This wasn’t positive thinking or denial. This was recognizing that autism isn’t a broken version of neurotypical—it’s a different operating system with its own gifts.

The Ripple Effect Throughout Our Family

When I stopped trying to change Aidan and started learning from him, everything shifted:

Michelle felt the difference immediately. “You’re not stressed about him anymore,” she said. “You’re curious about him.” That curiosity replaced the constant low-grade anxiety I’d carried about his development.

Aidan relaxed in ways I didn’t expect. When someone finally accepts you as you are instead of constantly working to improve you, you can stop defending yourself and start being yourself.

Our conversations deepened. Instead of always redirecting him toward “appropriate” topics, I started joining him in his interests. His passion for specific subjects wasn’t obsession—it was expertise. His intense focus wasn’t a problem—it was a superpower.

Extended family relationships improved. When I stopped being defensive about Aidan’s differences, others stopped walking on eggshells around them. His autism became part of our family story, not the problem we were always trying to solve.

What I Learned About Difference

Accepting Aidan’s autism taught me that difference isn’t deviation—it’s diversity.

In nature, diversity creates resilience. Ecosystems with varied species survive challenges that wipe out monocultures. Human communities work the same way.

Aidan’s autism brings qualities our family needed:

Rather than trying to make him more like us, we became more like him in the ways that served us all.

The Community Transformation

As our family dynamic shifted, something unexpected happened in our broader community.

Other parents started asking questions: “How did you get so calm about Aidan’s autism?” “What changed in your family?” “Why does he seem so much happier?”

Teachers noticed the difference: When a child feels fully accepted at home, they show up differently everywhere. Aidan’s confidence and self-acceptance became contagious.

Friends became curious instead of careful: Instead of avoiding autism-related topics, people started asking genuine questions about how Aidan experiences the world.

We attracted like-minded families: Other families who saw neurodivergence as difference rather than deficit found us. Our community expanded to include people who celebrated rather than tolerated autism.

The Consciousness Shift

Using the vibrational levels from my book, I can see exactly what happened:

I moved from Level 4 (Fear) about Aidan’s future to Level 7 (Acceptance) of who he is now.

Our family shifted from Level 5 (Desire) for him to be different to Level 8 (Peace) with his authentic nature.

Aidan remained at his natural Level 8-9 consciousness but now had family members operating at frequencies that could receive his wisdom instead of constantly trying to change him.

This frequency alignment created what I call “resonant acceptance”—when everyone in the system operates from similar vibrational levels, magic happens. Solutions appear. Stress decreases. Joy increases. Life flows.

Practical Hope for Autism Parents

If you’re parenting an autistic child and feeling overwhelmed, here’s what I want you to know:

Your child isn’t broken and doesn’t need fixing. They need understanding, accommodation, and celebration of their unique gifts.

The problem isn’t your child’s autism. The problem is a world that sees difference as deficit instead of diversity.

You don’t need to change your child. You need to change your relationship with their differences—from resistance to curiosity, from fear to acceptance.

Your child has wisdom you need. Their way of experiencing the world contains gifts that can benefit your entire family if you’re willing to receive them.

Acceptance doesn’t mean giving up. It means working with your child’s nature instead of against it, supporting their growth while honoring their authentic self.

The Questions That Change Everything

Instead of asking: “How do I help my child fit in?” Try asking: “What can my child teach me about authentic living?”

Instead of asking: “When will this get easier?” Try asking: “How is this experience helping all of us grow?”

Instead of asking: “Why did this happen to us?” Try asking: “What gifts are hidden in this challenge?”

The questions we ask determine the answers we find.

The Gift I Almost Missed

Today, Aidan (2025) is a 20 year old man who knows exactly who he is and isn’t apologetic about it. His autism hasn’t disappeared—it’s been integrated as a valuable part of his identity rather than a problem to solve.

He taught me that presence is more powerful than productivity. He showed me that authenticity creates deeper connections than performance. He demonstrated that accepting reality opens possibilities that fighting it never could.

Most importantly, he proved that what we call “disabilities” are often abilities we don’t understand yet.

I almost missed all of this because I was so focused on changing him instead of learning from him.

Your Child’s Gifts Are Waiting

If you’re struggling to see the gifts in your child’s autism, you’re not alone. I couldn’t see them for years either.

But they’re there.

In their honest communication that cuts through social pretense. In their intense interests that demonstrate true passion. In their present-moment awareness that you’ve forgotten how to access. In their acceptance of routine that creates stability you desperately need. In their different way of processing the world that reveals truths you’ve been missing.

The question isn’t whether your autistic child has wisdom to offer. The question is whether you’re ready to receive it.


Ready to shift from managing autism to learning from it? Want to discover the gifts hiding in what feels like only challenges? The journey from resistance to acceptance transforms everything—for you and your child. Email me at eric@theattentioncompass.com


Eric Wilson helps families transform their relationship with neurodivergence from burdens to gifts. His approach shows how autism can become a doorway to deeper presence, authentic connection, and wisdom you never knew you needed.