A number of people consider my barely verbal autistic son Phillip a mystic, someone more spiritually advanced than the rest of us. While I don’t subscribe to this view, those that hold it have a real point. In many ways his mental outlook, never hurry and enjoy the moment, is more advanced than my rush everywhere lifestyle.

I had the great pleasure of taking Phillip to Disney World recently. Phillip has a deep knowledge of and love for Disney, which shines through during our trips together. His consistent patience and resilience, regardless of long waits or the heat of the day, make traveling with him a delightful experience. Taking him to Disney is an even greater joy as he loves seeing the characters and going on the rides.

Phillip’s approach to enjoying his favorite rides and characters at Disney is marked by a serene pace. He expresses his choices clearly when asked, though he rarely, if ever will ask outright. His leisurely walk toward his desires reflects his calm and thoughtful nature, making every moment at the park seem all the more special.

While this is always somewhat noticeable, at Disney World it was extremely noticeable. Phillip was usually a dozen steps behind me. I am so used to purposeful walking, rushing to get to the next thing, that I had trouble slowing down enough to stay with him. If we walked at his pace people would whiz past. Double wide strollers, with what I’d swear now have cattle catchers on the front, were constantly nipping at our heels.

The part of me who wanted to get to every ride and do everything there was to do at Disney was impatient with this slow pace. I could hold his hand and drag him along, and he’d go willingly, but the moment I let go he’d fall behind again.

If Phillip isn’t in a rush while walking, that’s nothing compared to his slowness at eating! Phillip will gladly sit and eat for two or three hours straight. Despite this, Phillip is on the thin side of normal weight for his age and height. This puzzled me as Phillip always seemed to be eating, and yet after an hour a plate of eggs and sausage, identical to the one which I devoured in under ninety seconds, was largely untouched.

Further observation showed that this is because, in fact, Phillip always WAS eating. Which is to say he was always either putting something on his fork or putting whatever was on his fork in his mouth. His difference, however, is that instead of taking all the food off his fork, he takes a tiny nibble. A forkful I would eat in one bite might take him twenty, or thirty.

And yet, when you tell Phillip it’s time to stop eating and go he never complains, he just gets up and goes. Many is the time I find myself pushing him to eat faster so we can get on with the next thing.

Until the day when I started to wonder ‘what is so great about the next thing?’ Here we were with a perfectly good breakfast, or moseying along to the next ride, and all I wanted was to be at the next place, doing the next thing. My friend Mark tells me that “The moment you arrive you are thinking about leaving”.

But not Phillip, he’s ‘in the moment’ enjoying the here and now. Sure, he loves his movies and going on the rides at Disney, but he also loves every bite of a simple Caesar salad. He’s happy to move on to the next thing but, unlike me, he’s just as happy to continue doing what he’s doing. While visiting my mother one day, she was concerned that Phillip was just smiling and looking into space. In front of him he had many distractions, including arts and crafts and a tablet with movies. He also could have joined us, had he wished. But he just sat there smiling. My mother was very concerned about this. We asked Phillip to go get the mail, and he happily did. But I wondered how we got to the point that we always had to be ‘doing something’.

Of course, my thinking is ‘we need to get moving or we’ll miss the next cool thing’. Phillip embodies a mindful approach to life. He savors each activity at its own pace, fully immersed in the experience. This isn’t just a way of coping; it’s a genuine expression of how he finds joy and engagement in the present.

At one time, I would have argued that Phillip can get away with this thinking as he doesn’t have any responsibilities. His bills are paid for him, and his meals provided. He has a warm bed to sleep in and his parents, especially his mother, take good care of him.

But I no longer think that Phillip’s mindset is due to a lack of responsibilities. Phillip does have responsibilities. Phillip has to help clean up after meals, help with the laundry and the vacuuming. Although these may be minor compared to having to pay the bills, Phillip is always happy to do these chores. He loves helping out and tackles it with the same happy attitude that he brings to everything else.

I think Phillip is happy because he’s confident in his place in the world and doesn’t care what anyone else thinks. Things that bedevil many of us, or at least me, such as modesty, social status and trying to do what is expected of me, don’t worry Phillip in the least. He’s not worried about being shunned for not ‘fitting in’, he cares nothing about the latest fashions. Most of all, he’s happy with what he has and not rushing to the next thing.

The rest of us have grown accustomed to thinking of happiness as event based or about material things.  We think ‘that trip will make us happy’ or ‘that new house will make me happy’ or ‘a relationship with that person would make me happy’. In contrast, Phillip is happy just sitting in a dark room thinking. He enjoys trips and events as well, but he doesn’t live for them. Phillip enjoys the journey AND the destination.

Moreover, while Phillip certainly feels pain, he doesn’t complain about it. For instance, our time at Disney involved a lot of walking and standing which often leads to blisters. Phillip had a fairly large blister on one of his toes that must have been fairly painful, but he showed no signs of discomfort. In fact, it was only found because, knowing how he doesn’t show his pain, I did a ‘foot check’ to see how his feet were. I patched him up and we rotated shoes to keep his feet from getting worse, but I am unsure if he ever knew or cared. I know he feels pain but, unlike me, he doesn’t dwell on it.

My yoga instructor has been telling me for a decade to ‘live in the moment’, and goodness knows I’ve tried. But just like reading about Niagara Falls and seeing it in person are very different things, so is my meager attempt to live in the present versus Phillip’s actually doing it.

As I mentioned, a surprising number of people who meet Phillip believe he is a mystic: someone more spiritually advanced than most of us. I’m not sure he is a mystic, but there’s certainly a lot we can learn from him. He’s a living example of how slowing down and enjoying where we are and what we are doing in the moment leads to increased happiness and well-being.

Phillip’s way of life serves as a reminder. In the whirl of our daily routines and the chase for the next big thing, we often overlook the beauty of the present moment. Through his serenity, Phillip shows that happiness and fulfillment can lie in appreciating what we have right here, right now. I strive to embrace his mindful approach, finding joy not just in the big things but also in the simple fact that we are blessed to be on this earth.