Barrett L.
Dorko, P.T.
I recently got a call at my office from a massage therapist
who had seen one of my patients. �The way she described what you did was
fascinating,� she said, �and it certainly didn�t sound like any physical
therapy I�d ever heard of. How can I learn more about what you do?� I
suggested she visit my web site, to which she replied, �So, what you do is all
explained there?�
This question made me hesitate, mainly because I didn�t
know the answer, and it led to this essay.
I spent several years writing a very popular column to a
well-distributed weekly called Physical Therapy Forum. This was in the
early 90s and I still hear from people who read this faithfully, saved it,
posted it in their departments and even designed staff meetings around something
I had said. When this magazine folded in �95 I continued to write but never
found another venue with anything resembling the distribution or popularity
I�d once enjoyed. I don�t think my writing suffered, but the reading of it
nearly disappeared. �Why don�t you write anymore?� is what I hear from
many of my colleagues at conventions, and I try not to visibly cringe. �My
stuff is mainly on the Internet now,� I say, �you have to go there.� I
leave out the crack about how my work no longer lands in their lap free of
charge, requiring no more effort than turning a page. Today, in the middle of
the year 2002, I remain amazed at the number of therapists who remain unwilling
to make the effort necessary to get to a web site. But I guess that�s a
different issue, and if you�re reading this, I�m preaching to the choir.
The story goes that an aide once handed Winston Churchill a
thick sheaf of paper. He said, �Young man, the size of this document guards it
well against it ever being read.� I really like this, and I strive to keep my
ideas contained in a few paragraphs that rarely exceed 600 words or so. I know
that learning requires a commitment up front, and when the subject is laid out
in a compact form that commitment is much easier to make. My essays don�t ask
the reader for much in the way of time and it�s my job to make them readable
and relevant. A reviewer of my book
Shallow Dive said: �The Vase, like the others in the book, is
a one and a half page essay. The entire essay is visible at a glance - but this
is only the apparently simple form as set down on the page. Barrett's style of
writing makes his wisdom easily accessible and then allows further layers of
meaning to emerge gradually in the process of reading.� My point is that
brevity can be effective but only if it encourages the reader to pause and
reflect, to add something of his or her own experience to mine.
The �From Dorko�s Desk� section of this site has
grown enormous. People tell me that just scrolling down the list of titles
intimidates them to such a degree that they despair at ever finding what they
are looking for. Remember Winston�s large sheaf of papers? To them I say, �I
add essays as I write them and if one requires that you read another, that�s
indicated in the description beneath the title. Otherwise, any single essay can
be understood alone.� I�d also recommend you visit Soma Simple.com
(there�s a banner at the bottom of my home page you can click on) and go to
the �Barrett's Forums� section. �The News From Cuyahoga Falls� has been appearing
there for years and often contains shorter
pieces of a more personal nature about my life and its relation to my practice
and, hopefully, yours.
I�d love to hear from anyone visiting this site. Pick any
essay that catches your eye and let me know your own thoughts. I promise I�ll
reply. The truth is, this rarely happens and I wonder about it. I really am
readily accessible and willing to discuss any aspect of my writing or practice.
Try me.
Finally, I should say that the massage therapist who called
me that day never contacted me again. I
can only guess that she came to my writing hoping to get a clear idea of what
exactly it is I do and instead found only what I think. To me, one follows the
other quite naturally but I know many clinicians who don�t work in this
sequence very often. I can�t seem to function any other way. I think
first, and the doing arises from that. After all, this is therapy, not
sports. I�m reminded of what the comedienne Rosanne Barr said after recounting
all the crazy choices she�s made in her life: �On my tombstone it will read,
�What was I thinking?�
This web site answers that question about me.