Symbolism in a Linear World

“The Day After” by Edvard Munch 1895

Hope lies on the mountain top that awaits us at the end of a long journey.

I am a symbolic thinker in a linear world, as I suspect many of you are as well. This was never made more clear to me than by what transpired in my attorney’s office this morning.

Today, day 2, began in a way not dissimilar to yesterday, day 1. However, having survived my emotional response while re-visiting the orthopedic surgeon’s office  and rehab center where I  spent numerous hours the year following the accident, I felt stronger and more centered as I faced today’s larger challenge. Each step is a reminder that I have tools at my disposal that help me keep my balance, and that I am stronger than I was. Yesterday, and again today, I was reminded that staying centered and speaking the truth is a process and it is often an emotional roller coaster. Our emotions don’t negate the truth of who we are or what we are saying.

What I feared in my wordless world before today was spelled out in detail as fact by my attorney this morning. We met to discuss tomorrows deposition, when my insurance company’s attorneys will spend approximately two hours laying me out on a lab table and dissecting both me, and my life. They have in their possession all of my medical records and whatever other evidence they have been able to lay their hands on, years of accumulated data of a certain sort that are a result of my existence and they can and will use it to ask me as many questions as they like. They will push and probe, expose and reinterpret. They want to undo me. They want to find a fatal flaw in my character so that they can say, “ha! she’s lying, she’s crazy, she doesn’t deserve a penny!”  Gee, I can’t wait. While hearing my worst fears spoken out loud put me in tears at the time, it has somehow made it easier to deal with and it has hardened my resolve.

This situation, unlike the accident, is not being forced on me. I have a choice. I can choose to go forward or to stop. No one is making me do this, and trust me, I have entertained the idea more than once of running in the opposite direction, but I always come back to the feeling that somehow it is my destiny to go forward. It is what I am supposed to do, no matter how painful the process. That awareness gives me a  certain comfort and strength.

I’m beginning to see this process as an opportunity to understand myself better. I don’t expect either acknowledgement or adequate restitution for what I have suffered and continue to suffer,  but I am not in this either for the money, or revenge. I see little real value in either. I do think everything about this case is wrong. It is a microcosm of what is wrong with our society and the systems, organizations and businesses that we depend on. But, this is not about proving them wrong and me right, because that will never happen. It can’t happen. We speak different languages.

The precise nature of what is motivating me still eludes me, but that is part of what I believe I will be discovering. I think somehow, this process will help me put something to rest within myself, some uncertainty about who and what I am and what my life has been about and may yet to be about.

Already I have discovered the power of the connection that exists among women, here and everywhere. When I feel the need for strength, I think of all of you who understand, who know, who have suffered, survived and who I watch grow stronger and wiser every day as you face your own challenges.  I know you understand. I know you care. I know you are holding me up as I try to hold you up in similar times. This truth is part of the symbolic world I live in. It doesn’t have to be quantified or defined…it just is.

I have grown more confident in the symbols that live in my mind, the power of meditation, the importance of the inner life. This will carry me forward. This will accompany me as I attempt to speak my truth in a world full of lies. This and sharing here what can’t be heard there. Thank you for being in the world and in my life.    Dorothy