Watershed Memories

 Photo by Slagheap at www.flickr.com

This morning I jotted down some memories of September 11 in my journal. As I wrote, I thought of the intense fear the occasion called forth, the fear that life as we had known it had crumbled as surely as the Twin Towers. 

That triggered a related memory of a day a couple of years later when I experienced a blinding flash of the obvious, realizing in an instant that hate is not the opposite of love, FEAR is the opposite of love.  I felt those shackles of fear break free as divine, sublime love flowed into my being. My spirit soared in awe and gratitude. For several days I floated on a cloud of bliss, feeling free and strong, exploring the plethora of ramifications of this blessed “knowing.”

I wish I could tell you I've been 100% confident and joyful ever since. Not so. I still  get the willies now and then about one thing or another. It may be news related, like the situation in Iraq or healthcare reform, or it may be more personal, such as family illness. The onset of dread can come from any direction. But having been freed from chronic fear, I sense it early and am increasingly more able to nip it in the bud, reminding myself, “Things always work out okay in the end. Chill!”

Could I have understood this earlier in my life? I don't think so. I needed the data and experience to prepare me to understand and “get it.” But the delay in learning has made the realization that much more precious.

These memories, of the events and fear related to 9/11, and the experience of instant insight, are prime examples of watershed or landmark memories. They have had a major effect on my life, shaping it dramatically. Such memories form columns supporting the structure of memoir. I am compiling a list of these memories and arranging them on a timeline. They are transition points in my spiritual growth. Other memories about the impact of these insights and how they shaped my further life can be woven together to form walls and a roof linking all the columns together into a completed story.

That’s a long-term project. For now I’m writing short pieces about each watershed memory. That will anchor them and keep them fresh for when I’m ready to assemble the long version. And/or in case that day never comes.

Write now: list several watershed memories in your life. These may be about fear,  your spiritual development, or anything else you want to contemplate and come to grips with. Pick one or two and write a couple of paragraphs or a full story or essay. Or make a mindmap of related memories. File the material away for future use.

Searing Memories

Photo: Aaron Wagner

We all have them, those memories that are so vivid they blaze in our memories forever. We remember exactly where we were, what we were wearing, the time of day, and all the details — although we may not remember the specific date.

One of my searing memories takes me back to one wintry Saturday in eighth grade. The phone rang about eleven in the morning. It was a boy — calling me! History was made that day. I’ll save the details for my memoir, and tell you only that it was the hottest guy in our class, asking me to meet him at the ice rink that afternoon. No! This was too good to be true. Besides, my parents wouldn’t let me date until I was sixteen. Besides, he sounded just like my best girl friend, who had a rather husky voice, and I kept trying to get “her” to admit who she was.

When I called her immediately after hanging up, she assured me she hadn’t called. I believed her. The voice didn’t sound quite the same. When I got back to school on Monday, I was apparently invisible to Hunky Dude. Just as before, he never looked my way, even though our lockers were near each other. Had it really been him? Or was someone pulling my leg?

I’ll never know for sure, but I do know that I felt good about the way I played the game. I had a strong gut feeling that if it had been him, I was being set up for some awful humiliation at the rink. I can only guess what that might have been, but I didn’t need it and was blessedly spared. I felt strong and capable of taking care of myself. This searing memory is a turning point in my relationships with boys. The concept of actually having a boyfriend turned from the theoretical into the possible that day, even though I suspected it would be a good long while before anything tangible came along.

Searing memories, defining moments, turning points. In The Heart and Craft of Lifestory Writing I refer to them as watershed memories. It doesn’t matter what you call them, they are mileposts along our journey through life. We all have them. Some are joyful and mark advances. Some are traumatic, some may be quietly profound. All are significant and provide strong pillars for organizing related memories as you develop stories.

Taking time to list your watershed memories and arrange them along a timeline will  pay enormous dividends are you organize your life story or memoir, whether you are just beginning to write, or grappling with final organization.

Write now: review your list of watershed or turning point memories if you have one, and make an inventory of stories that remain to be written. If you don’t have a list, start one. Add to it as more occur to you. 

Photo Credit: Simon Harriyott

Spreading Ripples

I crawled into my cave, pulled a rock over the entrance, and binged on memoirs for the past week or so. I got caught up in a ripple effect and made a few unexpected discoveries in the process.

In the previous post, guest blogger Samantha White explained how writing her memoir changed her life. This theme of writing as a transformational process is becoming a hot topic, and an increasing number of people are turning to writing specifically for its ability to heal, change and transform lives.

What I’ve rediscovered during my reading orgy is that this transformational power is contagious. When I read a story that changed the author’s life, by the time I close the covers, I’ve experienced some changes myself. I learn and grow right along with that author.

For example, one of the books I read is Mark Matousek’s memoir, Sex, Death, Enlightenment: A True Story. Reading this book was an adventure. In spite of the fact that lots of elements of our lives are black and white different, many of his insights and truths set off fireworks of recognition.

When I finished reading, I began to ponder a recent “conversation” with my Inner Critic about the memoir I’ve been working on for a couple of years. In that conversation, after IC finished ripping my work to shreds, he surprised me by giving me a bizarre instruction: I should “dive into the circle” of an ocular migraine I was experiencing at the time. This shimmering ring of light would lead me to the answers I need, he claimed. I thought I heard him mutter “I dare you!” as he faded from the scene.

Yeah, right. Woo woo! But hey – stuck writers are game for all sorts of weird tricks, no matter who suggests them. The time seemed right, so based on reverberations from Mark’s book, I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and visualized that shimmering ring, then slid through it like a playful porpoise.

I surfaced in the middle of a situation that occurred early in my first year of school. At least a decade ago I had recognized that memory as a watershed moment. As with most other key girlhood memories, I’ve written all the juice out of that experience, I thought down to gray gristle. How could this be the answer to unblocking the stuck project that IC rightly deemed “bo-o-oring!”?

To my amazement, ripples generated by the stone of Mark’s story did their work and washed up an additional layer of discovery. The meaning of that event was even more profoundly significant than I’d yet realized. This is unexplored turf. That event is once more juicy and tantalizing, and the insight drips with timely promise.

Further details are beyond the scope of this post, but I mention it to show the value of shared insights. Regardless of how we go about clearing debris from our soul, writing about the experience can comprise a double blessing. Writing is a path to insight for many. Writing can strengthen and deepen it for those who follow other paths. When those stories are shared, they may spark further insight in readers. Mark’s story lit a candle in my life, and I have no doubt it has done so for tens of thousands of others over the years.

Write now: find a good memoir, perhaps one of Mark’s or Samantha Whites, or Cheryl Strayed’s Wild. Read it with a notepad at hand to record any insights it sparks. Journal or write stories based on those insights, or your thoughts about the book in general and how it might apply to you.

An Ethical Dilemma?

Considering my recent admonition that reading great works of memoir and fiction are the best do-it-yourself writing workshop you can find — at no cost if you have a library card — a recent fiasco involving the Amazon Kindle caught my eye. As a disclaimer, I should begin by stating that in spite of recognizing their convenience factor, I do not own a Kindle, nor have I ever had plans to buy one.

Part of this reluctance stems from the price. Only a small part. A much larger part stems from the fact that I realized I would not own the books I bought. I owned only the right to read them. I could not pass them along to a friend or relative. I could not donate them to the library or sell them at a garage sale. I couldn’t use sticky flags to mark sections I wanted to note for future reference (I respond best to visual cues), and I couldn’t run selected pages through the copier.

A third part relates to the first. I’m a library addict. If my local library doesn’t have a book I want to read, they can get it through Inter Library Loan. This is my personal plan to live within my means, avoid cluttered shelves, and “read green.” Not only do I save dollars and shelf space, but library funding is based on Use It or Lose It. Circulation figures weigh heavily, and not just in Pennsylvania where the Neanderthal governor and state legislature is threatening to cut library funding by 50%, sending us back toward the stone age.

Yep. I’m a geek who loves techno toys, but the Kindle did not make the cut. Neither did the Sony, which is favorably recommended. Nor did any of the other lesser known and even higher priced alternatives.

So where is the dilemma, and what does this have to do with life writing?

The dilemma is that today’s July 17 New York Times carried a report that “This morning, hundreds of Amazon Kindle owners awoke to discover that books by a certain famous author had mysteriously disappeared from their e-book readers ... “ Amazon stealthily removed copies of George Orwell’s classic novels Animal Farm and 1984. The good news is that they did credit the readers’ accounts.

Within hours, over 200 comments on the New York Times page had registered outrage, with over half expressing a firm determination stick with paper books — especially the library versions — rather than buying the Kindle they’d been considering. This has lit a highly readable firestorm of debate about Digital Rights Management, ethics, Amazon’s greed factor, and a score of other issues. More debate follows on the official Kindle Forum.

Another aspect of the debate and dilemma is the issue of copyright. These titles are in the public domain in most of the world, but still covered by what many consider to be unreasonably prolonged copyright protection in the USA. Apparently this was part of the reason for the scandal. The matter of copyright protection is one that concerns all writers.

I sense a watershed here involving the world of electronic publishing. Which way will it go? Who will determine the outcome?

The tie to Life Writing and your personal writing opportunity, involves personal essays outlining feelings about this ironically Orwellian issue of eBooks versus paper, copyright, rights of ownership, and related matters. This is your chance to put the stamp of your opinion on the history of publishing.

Write now: write that essay. Tell how you feel about technology in general, and digital books in particular. Do you have a Kindle? How do you feel about that now? Did you realize you wouldn’t own the books you purchase in the traditional way? If you don’t own a Kindle, would you consider buying one? Let it all hang out on paper or screen.

Snippets

This guest post is reprinted by permission from Fresh Views, a monthly newsletter published  by Sharon Eakes, an internationally acclaimed  personal and executive coach and a treasured personal friend. Her focus this month on “snippets” is reminiscent of terms like watershed moments, turning points, or shimmering images used as story prompts and memoir organizers. You’ll be hearing more about snippets in an upcoming post or two based on epiphanies I experienced during a recent trip to Peru. 

Snippet: a small piece of something, a bit, a scrap, or fragment

THOUGHTS

I recently visited my daughter, Lisa, in California. Driving to the coast, we passed the Lagunitas Deli. I had a vivid memory of going there over twenty years ago on the way to a picnic. I asked the clerk, “Do you sell single rolls?” and he handed me a roll of toilet paper. “No, no, a sandwich roll,” I laughed. And he gave me the other kind of roll. Nothing worth remembering about that encounter, but I remember who I was with, the face of the clerk, our laughing together.

It seems to me that life is made up of snippets: scraps of time, memory, experience. It doesn’t surprise me that I remember the big highs and lows…the time I was climbing rocks on the beach and nearly got swept into the ocean when the tide came in faster than anticipated. The moments after giving birth. Of course, one would remember those. But it’s the small things, the snippets of memory or experience that entertain me on a daily basis.

• When my son Gordon was two, he asked me to remove a “crumb of light” from his crib. It changed light for me and I’ll never forget the phrase. It may also have been the first clue that he would be a consummate wordsmith.
  
• While on my morning walk last Thursday, a squirrel walked next to me along the top of a fence. At the end of the block we stopped and looked each other in the eye for what seemed like a long time before he skedaddled up a tree. For just a moment I felt genuinely connected to him. That reminded me of a time many years ago when a dolphin played peek-a-boo with me at the mouth of the Kiawah River for 3 mornings in a row!

This morning I was with friends who were sharing snippets. No complaining. No boasting. Just sharing. And being touched and tickled in turn.

I’m thinking we should write down some of our snippets, our stories. My grandfather did this, and I am so grateful. He lived in such a different time. Because I only knew him as a somewhat sedate older gentleman, it is delightful to know about the time he and his friends played a trick on their teacher by moving his buggy out of the garage and lodging it between two trees. Imagine their consternation when Mr. Brown turned out to be in the buggy they’d just moved, and said, “Thank you boys, I would have had to hitch the horses to move the buggy.”

COACHING QUESTIONS AND A SUGGESTION

1. How can you become aware of and treasure your snippets of experience as you live them?
   
2. What snippet in memory can you share to entertain both yourself and some friend or family member?
   
3. Write your snippets down or record them. Your family and friends will be glad you did.

Write now: think of a snippet or two of your own and share them in a comment on this post.

Visit Sharon Eakes on the web. Read previous edition and subscribe to Fresh Views here.

Photo credit:  Bert Heymans

The Easter Bunny Discovered

For better or worse, holidays are gold mines of memory material deserving a place in your life story. They are uniquely personal, with no two years quite the same, and universal, with  family, community and national traditions. Some people look forward to them, others dread them. Still others ignore them.

Easter is a good example. When I was young, it meant a new dress for church, dying and hiding eggs, and eating lots of candy. Since we didn’t live within easy reach of any relatives, we seldom spent it with extended family. It was primarily a Sunday morning event marked by sermons filled with impassioned reminders of suffering and transcendence.

Best of all, even now, it signals the time when the world is waking from winter’s slumber. Weather is warming, spring flowers blooming, and trees becoming green. It’s a season of hope, joy and rebirth, whatever one’s spiritual tradition.

Any of these aspects makes good story content. One of the first stories I wrote after discovering the joys of lifestory writing is The Easter Bunny Discovered. That Easter was a watershed moment in my young life, and the story offered a chance to add deft background strokes about my life in general at that point.

I’ll admit that I did not recognize the full import of that story when I wrote it. At that point I simply thought of it as a fun memory. Soon after writing it, I discovered the free member sites available on ThirdAge.com and posted eight of my favorite stories there. ThirdAge long since discontinued that service, but the stories live on in a new home on my own site. You can read my Easter Bunny story and others there. I hope they’ll inspire you to story your own holiday memories and significant discoveries for posterity, then share them with others.

Write now: write a holiday story of your own. Write a series of holiday stories, perhaps one for each holiday you observe.