Rock Walls and Invisible Ones

    Transformation can occur in an instant. A death in the family, a collapsing cave, or a life-changing injury can all alter one's life in the blink of an eye - faster than anyone could calculate. In "Rock Walls", the cave-dwelling man's life took a drastic and sudden turn when his strong, sturdy home collapsed on top of him, mangling not only his body but also the life he had known. His views were instantly skewed as he considered whether he had been right to doubt the caves or whether his doubt had caused such a fall. He was suddenly thrust into a new world with a new view as he gazed first at the vast expanse of stars, then the oppressive heat of the sun. These events represent an individual's first two steps of the transformation process - a disorienting dilemma and self-examinations (Mezirow pg. 86).

    In my life, the most notable "instant transformation" I faced occurred just three weeks before I started high school. While volunteering with an animal rescue, one of the dogs lunged at me as I was feeding him. He didn't make full contact or clamp down, but his teeth sunk into my face and left a sizeable crater in my cheek. In that moment, my life was changed and the following hour of my life will never be forgotten. Instantly, any dreams of being a face performer for Disney vanished and my lifelong goal of becoming a veterinarian dissipated away with the after-effects. My worldview changed. I noted that adults and teenagers would just stare at the scar, but that kids would brazenly ask what had happened - I was grateful for their curiosity. I started high school with the stitches freshly out of the raw, red wound. I realized I needed to be less trusting - not only with people perhaps, but also animals. Eight years later, the scar is much less noticeable and I've had roommates that didn't see it until we'd been living together for three months. Yet, the change within me still exists. Sometimes, visions of that split-second event haunt me as my imagination runs away with what could have been if another volunteer hadn't grabbed the dog's collar.

    Transformation is also a process that occurs over time. For many, this occurs most noticeably when leaving home for the first time as a college student or simply as an independent adult. In "Rock Walls", we met a young woman who left the caves long before on a journey to discover the 'real world' and where she fit in it. Her approach was more self-directed, as she realized there was more to life than just rock walls and careful religions, setting off to experiment and try new housing structures. It is this same type of transformation that the woman says the injured man will need to undergo as he stitches himself together and comes to terms with his new view of the world. The crippled paralysis she warned of is not necessarily physical, but is a mental and emotional impairment as a result of a refusal to change. If the man were to either return to caves or be taken with the woman, he would be dependent upon the life made for him and would not truly transform. Instead, he would find a "crippled helplessness" as he never took the time to digest and process his own metamorphosis. The woman implores that "only when you can devise your own shelter can the stars be appreciated as fully as we humans are capable of appreciating them" (Hoggan pg. 61). Here, the stars are a metaphor for life, which cannot fully be appreciated unless we are as self-sustaining and reflective as possible.

    The images presented here concur with my own reflective experiences both in school and in my personal life. Most of my reflection has been completed during retreats, and most of them happened to be of a religious nature. As much as we strive to learn things about ourselves or transform ourselves, it is that quiet reflection that allows us to ultimately succeed. In high school, I had some really bad friendships. They were the type of relationship that sucks out all your energy and happiness and make you so miserable that you can't even see it. Misery after misery built up until finally, after one crepuscular catastrophe, I got sick of it and ended the friendship that made my life so terrible. I recently drew myself away from a similar friendship, because I allowed time for reflection. In that digestion, I realized the similarities between this new friendship and the old one, and knew I didn't want to draw myself back into the same old mess.

    Ultimately, transformation is a product of both instantaneous events and a process of reflective digestion. Without something to spur the transformation, the status quo may never be challenged, and without reflection, change cannot root itself enough to stick permanently. It is the cohesion of these aspects that ensure deep change and transformation.