Maxim for (autistic) Christian living (37)

Hopko’s 37th maxim is ‘Flee imagination, fantasy, analysis, figuring things out’. For autistic Orthodox Christians, this is not a command to stop thinking, drop theology, or shut down your rich inner world. Rather, it is a warning about a specific pattern: when imagination, analysis, and fantasy stop serving love and start spiralling into anxiety, scrupulosity, daydreams, escapism, or endless ‘what‑if’ scenarios that keep you from praying, acting, or resting. Many autistic people know this pattern very well: replaying conversations for hours, mentally running every possible outcome of a simple task, building elaborate fantasy scenarios to escape overwhelming reality, or over‑analysing every feeling until you are paralysed. Fleeing, here, means gently stepping out of that loop – not rejecting your mind itself, but refusing to let the loop rule you. 

Because autistic cognition naturally tends toward depth, pattern‑spotting, and detailed internal simulation, this maxim needs to be applied with nuance. Some imagination and analysis are gifts: they help you understand Scripture, theology, other people, and your own sensory world; they fuel creative work and problem‑solving. You can keep those gifts by asking concrete questions like: ‘Is this helping me love God and neighbour right now, or is it only feeding fear, pride, anger, or avoidance?’; ‘Have I thought about this enough to choose a next step?’ When the answer is ‘No’ in the first case or ‘Yes’ in the second, fleeing the loop might look like: returning to a short prayer instead of running the scenario again; moving your body; doing a small task in the real world; or shifting to a grounded, creative use of your mind (writing, art, study, etc.) instead of unstructured rumination.

Practically, you might:

• Set time limits for analysis and problem‑solving, then deliberately hand unresolved pieces to Christ at the end of that time.
• Notice specific triggers – doomscrolling, certain kinds of theological argument, some fantasy worlds – that reliably send you into loops, and limit or reshape your engagement with them.
• When you catch yourself scripting a conversation for the tenth time, say, ‘I’ve done enough figuring out’, and choose one concrete action (send the email, ask for clarification, or consciously postpone the topic).

Lived this way, ‘Flee imagination, fantasy, analysis, figuring things out’ does not forbid you to be an intensely thinking, imaginative autistic person. Rather, it invites your mental powers to come back from the places where they trap you – catastrophic fantasy, endless self‑interrogation, escapist daydreams – and to stand, as you are, in the small, real moment where Christ is actually present and where even one simple act of trust or love is worth more than hours of brilliant but fruitless spinning.

Maxim for (autistic) Christian living (36)

Hopko’s 36th maxim, ‘Speak simply, clearly, firmly, directly’, fits many autistic communication strengths when it is understood rightly. For autistic Orthodox Christians, it means letting your words be truthful, minimally complicated, and as free as possible from passive–aggressive hints, double meanings, or performative piety. It is often more loving to say, ‘I’m tired and need quiet now’, ‘I can’t take on that task’, or ‘That noise hurts me’, than to hint, endure, resent, and then melt down later. 

Because autistic communication is frequently misread – ’too direct’, ‘too intense’, ‘too detailed’ – this maxim is best lived with a few gentle adjustments. You might aim for:

• Simple words and short sentences, especially when discussing conflicts or needs.
• Clear structure: say what happened, how it affected you, and what you are asking for, instead of circling the point.
• Firmness without hostility: using calm, declarative statements (‘I will need to leave by 9 p.m’.) rather than apologies for existing (‘Sorry, I’m difficult, but maybe I should go early?’).

Practically, you can prepare brief scripts for recurring situations – at church, at work, with family – so that in moments of overload you have simple, pre‑chosen phrases ready. Written or text communication can often help you keep things simple and clear when speech is hard; this still fulfils the maxim. Over time, ‘speak simply, clearly, firmly, directly’ becomes less about trying to sound like everyone else and more about allowing your God‑given autistic directness to be shaped by charity: words that are honest but not weaponized, straightforward but not contemptuous, so that those around you can actually understand you, and you can live in less confusion and resentment before God and neighbour.

Maxim for (autistic) Christian living (35)

Hopko’s 35th maxim, ‘Think and talk about things no more than necessary’, can sound impossible if your autistic brain naturally loops, analyses, and infodumps. But this maxim is not about the impossible task of switching off your thoughts or silencing your interests. rather, it is about noticing when thinking or talking has stopped serving love and has become rumination, anxiety, or self‑stimulation that wears you out. ‘No more than necessary’ might mean: enough thought to understand a situation and choose a next action; enough speech to be clear and truthful. After that point, the extra hours of rehashing conversations, rechecking decisions, or particularly arguing online usually do not add wisdom; they drain your energy and peace. 

Because autistic cognition often runs in detailed, repetitive tracks, you will probably need to develop concrete habits rather than be satisfied with vague intentions. You might:

• Set time limits for analysing a problem, using a timer, and then handing it to God in a brief prayer when the time ends.
• Agree with yourself or your confessor on ‘parking places’ for thoughts – writing them in a notebook to revisit at a set time, instead of carrying them all day.
• Before launching into a long explanation, ask, ‘What is actually necessary here?’ and offer the short version first, adding detail only if the other person asks.
• Notice triggers (certain topics, online spaces, theological disputes) where ‘talking more’ almost never helps, and gently avoid or limit them for the sake of your well-being.

This maxim also has a compassionate side for your special interests and emotions. You don’t need to be afraid of thinking or speaking; God often works through your focused attention and deep passions. The point is to let that attention be ordered – into prayer, study, creative work, concrete action – rather than letting it spin endlessly without fruit. When you realize you’re rehearsing the same argument for the tenth time, or explaining again to someone who clearly does not want to understand, you can say, ‘I’ve reached “no longer necessary”,’ stop, and turn to something life‑giving, e.g. a psalm, a walk, a photograph, a small task. Lived this way, ‘Think and talk about things no more than necessary’ does not demand a neurotypical brain; it gently trains your vivid autistic mind so that its strength is spent on what truly builds up you and your neighbour in Christ.