One thing that just occurred to me, which I wish I would have included in this piece, is that Lidia's use of the word "slippage" is a forgiving word. It's a moment, perhaps a misguided moment, but not a moment meant to be cruel or harmful. She says as much when she says, “I neither believe anyone is as heroic as we want to pretend they are, nor are our mistakes as horrific as we tend to believe they are, even when they are terrible." I like that the word holds this forgiveness, this openness.
We slip because the terrain is slippery :) Alas, knowing this, we are still underprepared, and this is our fate and our responsibility. So, it doesn't remove accountability, but it does afford us some grace. A lot of grace.
"I know that one of the interesting things about writing my own memoir is how my story is changing literally as I write it. We’re constantly creating ourselves." I love this, Grant. Memoir writing IS shape-shifting. The self that sits down to begin writing the memoir is not the self that stands up in the end. What mysterious beauty is this?
Yes, and sometimes shape discovering and shape uncovering and shape recovering and shape creating while shape shedding. Hummm, I might run with this for an essay myself!
Great piece, Grant. It gave me a lot to think about. I love the idea of slippage. Reading essays & memoirs, I realize that so many things I’ve been resistant to writing are not, in the grand scheme of things, the big terrible monsters I’ve made them out to be in my mind.
I can also relate to the tyranny of the hero’s journey (kept me stuck in writing my memoir for too long), and to the idea of our stories shifting as we write. As I’ve been working on my memoir, I realize the story is more about my relationship with my mom, about forgiveness.
What I thought was the central event is more of a moment in the larger story—a significant moment, but a moment nonetheless. I think of these moments as threads in the tapestry of my life & story. Then structure becomes how I weave them together.
Thanks so much, Krista! I'm glad the piece resonated for you. I think you said it perfectly: "I think of these moments as threads in the tapestry of my life & story. Then structure becomes how I weave them together." Keep ... slipping between the seams.
This post is such a treat—I love Lidia, and you two seem to have a special alchemy!
-Slippage reminds me of a term the poet David Whyte calls in between cracks—(I’m paraphrasing) where we step aside the thrust of what we call life. More often than not it happens to us—but could we induce it in full awareness? That is, willingly step aside from the river of our life? For some reason, the Gita comes to mind—the image of Arjuna meditating in the middle of the battlefield taking an astral trip (led by Krisna) when his thrust, job, or mandate is to battle.
Thanks so much, Ariees! I'm so glad the post resonated. And, yes, I do feel a special way of looking at the world with Lidia. Thanks for mentioning David Whyte. I feel slippage as something that both happens to us and we happen to it—it's both mystical and accidental, a tipping of gravity. We lunge yet something pushes us. Or something like that ...
Thank you, Grant—now I’m thinking of a prompt or two on slippage! I’m curious, from your discussion on structure, how a string of slippage(s) would land as a story.
One thing that just occurred to me, which I wish I would have included in this piece, is that Lidia's use of the word "slippage" is a forgiving word. It's a moment, perhaps a misguided moment, but not a moment meant to be cruel or harmful. She says as much when she says, “I neither believe anyone is as heroic as we want to pretend they are, nor are our mistakes as horrific as we tend to believe they are, even when they are terrible." I like that the word holds this forgiveness, this openness.
We slip because the terrain is slippery :) Alas, knowing this, we are still underprepared, and this is our fate and our responsibility. So, it doesn't remove accountability, but it does afford us some grace. A lot of grace.
"I know that one of the interesting things about writing my own memoir is how my story is changing literally as I write it. We’re constantly creating ourselves." I love this, Grant. Memoir writing IS shape-shifting. The self that sits down to begin writing the memoir is not the self that stands up in the end. What mysterious beauty is this?
I love memoir writing as shapeshifting—not shape determining! That is where the "mysterious beauty" resides ...
Yes, and sometimes shape discovering and shape uncovering and shape recovering and shape creating while shape shedding. Hummm, I might run with this for an essay myself!
Run with it! I love it!
I'm bookmarking this. It opens the field. When I'm feeling stuck, I will reread (which means I'll probably read it a few times).
Oh, great, Michelle! I'm glad the piece resonates.
Great piece, Grant. It gave me a lot to think about. I love the idea of slippage. Reading essays & memoirs, I realize that so many things I’ve been resistant to writing are not, in the grand scheme of things, the big terrible monsters I’ve made them out to be in my mind.
I can also relate to the tyranny of the hero’s journey (kept me stuck in writing my memoir for too long), and to the idea of our stories shifting as we write. As I’ve been working on my memoir, I realize the story is more about my relationship with my mom, about forgiveness.
What I thought was the central event is more of a moment in the larger story—a significant moment, but a moment nonetheless. I think of these moments as threads in the tapestry of my life & story. Then structure becomes how I weave them together.
Thanks so much, Krista! I'm glad the piece resonated for you. I think you said it perfectly: "I think of these moments as threads in the tapestry of my life & story. Then structure becomes how I weave them together." Keep ... slipping between the seams.
Kind of Buddhist - impermanence...
It is true. Our stories aren't permanent or fixed.
This post is such a treat—I love Lidia, and you two seem to have a special alchemy!
-Slippage reminds me of a term the poet David Whyte calls in between cracks—(I’m paraphrasing) where we step aside the thrust of what we call life. More often than not it happens to us—but could we induce it in full awareness? That is, willingly step aside from the river of our life? For some reason, the Gita comes to mind—the image of Arjuna meditating in the middle of the battlefield taking an astral trip (led by Krisna) when his thrust, job, or mandate is to battle.
Thanks for the post!
Thanks so much, Ariees! I'm so glad the post resonated. And, yes, I do feel a special way of looking at the world with Lidia. Thanks for mentioning David Whyte. I feel slippage as something that both happens to us and we happen to it—it's both mystical and accidental, a tipping of gravity. We lunge yet something pushes us. Or something like that ...
Thank you, Grant—now I’m thinking of a prompt or two on slippage! I’m curious, from your discussion on structure, how a string of slippage(s) would land as a story.
A string of slippages sounds like the perfect story .... That's often the thing with slippages. One leads to another.
Brilliant insight about the link between memory and imagination. Thanks for this, Grant.
Our brains are basically stories, I think.