It turned out to be an unusual morning on 7/28/2017. First, I had a medical appointment at a San Francisco hospital at 9:15. I parked in the garage close by. After climbing the short flight of stairs, I arrived at the elevator and noticed a tall man standing with his head bent downward. He then glanced at me ever-so-briefly before resuming his previous head position. With my quick scan, I realized familiarity. As I entered the small elevator, I knew he was high-powered attorney #3 in my divorce litigation. Given the passing of 5 years since termination of our contract, the short elevator ride, and Iphone, the scenario was such that, although awkward, it was easy to avoid acknowledgment. I would say for both of us as my bet is he recognized me too.
Although older, he was still handsome with a fit physique. Memories flared and flooded my mind with all that had transpired between us regarding my case. Most definitely, there were moments of high drama, good moments when I felt he was my ally and ardent supporter in securing the best, most right settlement, disturbing moments when I felt confused by his anti-advocate rhetoric and actions, and bad moments where I felt diminished with sexism in play. Most notably, when he quit via email right before a long-anticipated trial. His lurch of abandonment left me in a horrible situation, and I hold him highly accountable for his lack of ethics, taking my money and running after 6 months, and loss of a financial settlement that was just given my long-term marriage.
I wasn’t an alcoholic or drug addict. I paid every hefty bill immediately. I was a “good girl” and quiet with a compelling case; yet, he abruptly quit, essentially firing me. On top of leaving me stranded in our scary, broken legal system, he retriggered the trauma from my beloved father’s sudden death when I was a child. I do remember pausing, taking a deep breath, and saying to myself, so now, as an adult, I get to experience what abandonment really feels like! Unlike my go-to brilliant childhood coping mechanism of disassociating, I vowed to remain present and move through it with focus and awareness for completion. I feel proud of myself that, in the midst of this latest legal crisis and tremendous fear, I chose to evolve.
Circling back to the medical appointment, reflection then turned to dinner with a friend the night before. She also went through an acrimonious divorce. I told her I am not done, that, although my art is part of my narrative and reflects my heart wrenching experience, writing was also necessary to offer further clarifications. To which she responded, “You’re too charged up! Why not let it go?”
Let it go? Well, although I’ve certainly been in and out of having a need and the energy to express the gist of what transpired, and knowing letting go is ultimately essential, I do believe speaking out is integral to my life’s purpose. On this particular morning, not only did I run into this man in the garage going to my appointment, but I ran into him again in the garage leaving it. He lives in Mill Valley. What are the odds of this happening twice with a key player in the turbulent past on the same day at the same time? Of course, these are tips, stimulus, glaring reminders to stay on track, keep my creative momentum going and state what is necessary for justice, transcendence, and release. Standing tall with wide shoulders and erect posture, I vow to keep declaring with strength and triumph that I Have Something To Say!
This dense, kinetic work is multi-layered spontaneous cursive writing, courtesy of black acrylic pens. The last word is Extraordinary.
