Here are the four most relevant paragraphs to our concerns as we seek to understand the power of memoir to go beyond the telling of the events of a single life:

We shared a meal together, recalling rituals from our childhoods–mealtime prayers both serious and comical, night-time prayers.  We talked a little about memory itself and its function in our lives.  Most people were in their fifties and above, so reflection on the past came easily.  I described my grandfather’s practice of “returning thanks”–a second prayer–at the end of a big family meal.  Someone in the class said, “That is a German tradition.”

Again we divided the workshop into two parts.  I will detail them below.  Anyone could duplicate the process.  Feel free!

I.  This exercise was taken from Tristine Rainer’s book Your Life as Story: Draw the floor plan of the favorite house you lived in as a child.  Imagine yourself coming toward the house, open the door, enter, look around.  What do you see inside?  What do you remember about living here?  “Place yourself inside this room and allow your writing to go where it will, exploring your feelings and thoughts at the age you were when you lived in this house, concentrating on your interaction with the other people in the house.”  Reflect, remember, and then write rapidly for 5-7 minutes.  Share your writing with the group if you wish.

II.  Choose a biblical or hymn text that has meaning for you.  Chew on it lectio divina style.  Then write rapdily for 5-7 minutes.  Share voluntarily.  Discuss.

This simple structure allowed us to become a community in just a few hours.  Most of us knew each other, some for quite a while.  But some folks knew only one or two people in the room.  The conversation hummed.  We laughed and were touched by each others’ wisdom.  Something magic guides the pen when body, mind, and spirit concentrate on collective meaning making.  Psalm 91 will always be Carolyn’s psalm for me from now on.  I will ponder Karen’s comment on how writing within a group brings out thoughts we might never have on our own.  And I will remember the look of loving attention on the faces of each person as they listened to each other.

We celebrated our entwined lives the way Grandpa would have liked–by returning thanks.

Interestingly, critics and readers alike have chided Gilbert for the shallowness of her spiritual journey and for the self-absorption of her personal quest.  Some are just jealous that they don’t have book advances that pay for a year of globe-trotting.  Others have reacted quite differently, enjoying the intelligence, humor, and adventure of the story as the author moves from a crying jag on her bathroom floor in Manhattan to a divorce, then to Italy, India, and Indonesia where she is able to, successively and successfully, eat, pray, and love.

I enjoyed reading the book.  It kept me well entertained on an airplane trip.  And since several people in my life were going through divorces at the time this book came out, I read with a motive to learn about healing from that particular kind of pain.  When it came to the spiritual transformation section, where the author discovers how to pray in an Ashram in India, I was less inspired than amused.

I don’t expect this book to become a classic of spiritual autobiography.  The author seems to struggle mightily to arrive at the first base of wisdom.  I suspect ambition, calculation, and narcissism are still too much with her.

But one theme rings true.  The passages in the book which focus on prayer as gratitude sing with what the author names “Diligent Joy.”  The very last lines of the book rise to a lovely descant:  “In the end, maybe it’s wiser to surrender before the miraculous scope of human generosity and to just keep saying thank you, forever and sincerely, for as long as we have voices.”

To that I say “Amen.”

And as I enjoy the festivities with my family tomorrow, I will remember to thank Elizabeth Gilbert.  She showed me–again–the three most important verbs of Thanksgiving are–eat, pray, love.

1. Begin with meditation.

2. Using examples from this book, Not Quite What I Was Planning: Six-Word Memoirs, we will break the ice by trying to describe our lives in six words.

3. We will then do three timed-writing life story exercises:

a. My life as a story of empowerment

b. My life as a story of tragedy, failure, victimhood

c. My life as a story of grace

4. We will conclude with gratitude for the pied beauty of our lives and for the opportunity to learn together.

The basic structure of this one-afternoon event came from Marilyn Chandler McEntyre who wrote an essay called “Growing in Grace” in Weavings: A Journal of the Christian Spiritual Life. Marilyn has taught courses on spiritual autobiography to both undergraduates and adults for many years. “I have nothing to give that was not a gift to me,” she says.

When we recognize our endebtedness to others and to God, we fill up with abundant wisdom and grace to give, keeping the cycle of growth alive.