I Live a Life Like Yours

by Jan Grue, B.L. Crook (Translator)

* A New York Times Editors' Choice * Publishers Weekly Best Nonfiction Books of 2021 *

I am not talking about surviving. I am not talking about becoming human, but about how I came to realize that I had always already been human. I am writing about all that I wanted to have, and how I got it. I am writing about what it cost, and how I was able to afford it.

Jan Grue was diagnosed with spinal muscular atrophy at the age of three. Shifting between specific periods of his life--his youth with his parents and sister in Norway; his years of study in Berkeley, St. Petersburg, and Amsterdam; and his current life as a professor, husband, and father--he intersperses these histories with elegant, astonishingly wise reflections on the world, social structures, disability, loss, relationships, and the body: in short, on what it means to be human. Along the way, Grue moves effortlessly between his own story and those of others, incorporating reflections on philosophy, film, art, and the work of writers from Joan Didion to Michael Foucault. He revives the cold, clinical language of his childhood, drawing from a stack of medical records that first forced the boy who thought of himself as "just Jan" to perceive that his body, and therefore his self, was defined by its defects.

I Live a Life Like Yours is a love story. It is rich with loss, sorrow, and joy, and with the details of one life: a girlfriend pushing Grue through the airport and forgetting him next to the baggage claim; schoolmates forming a chain behind his wheelchair on the ice one winter day; his parents writing desperate letters in search of proper treatment for their son; his own young son climbing into his lap as he sits in his wheelchair, only to leap down and run away too quickly to catch. It is a story about accepting one's own body and limitations, and learning to love life as it is while remaining open to hope and discovery.

Genres: Nonfiction, Memoir, Disability, Biography, Biography Memoir, Audiobook, Autobiography

272 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 2018

About the author

Author and academic.

My work deals first of all with embodiment - with what it means to be a body in an endlessly complex world. I've worked in various genres, combining literary exploration and elements of science fiction and speculative fiction, publishing five short story collections, a novel, and several children's books.

My book of autobiographical non-fiction, I Live a Life Like Yours, was first published in Norwegian in 2018. “The book will, in all likelihood, linger as a mile stone signifying that a new maturity is reaching autobiographical literature in Norwegian non-fiction,” wrote Morgenbladet’s Ane Farsethås. Dagbladet’s reviewer called the book ”a literary masterpiece that I recommend in the strongest terms!”, giving the book five stars. The book went on to win the Literary Critics’ Award and has been nominated to the Nordic Council’s Literature Prize – as the first Norwegian non-fiction book in 50 years. The English translation, published by Farrar, Straus and Giroux, will be available in August, 2021.

Reviews

[John Hatley · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is one of the most unusual books I've ever read. It is autobiographical. It is existential. It is philosophical. It is a love story. If nothing else, it made me stop and think. Really stop and think. I've often heard that no matter how hard we think our own life is, there are always those whose lives are much harder. The next time I start feeling sorry for myself, I'll try to remember this book. The next time I see someone with a physical handicap, I'll try hard to hard to feel sympathy, genuine sympathy. I can highly recommend this book.

[Joanna · Rating 5 out of 5]

Hvordan er det å leve et liv som ligner andres, men med den lille og enorme forskjellen at man bruker rullestol? Boken til Jan Grue står i en amerikansk, selvbiografisk tradisjon, og er en horisontutvidende fortelling om en tenkende manns liv fylt med utfordringer: tekniske, logistiske, filosofiske, emosjonelle. Boken bæres av en mild og klok fortellerstemme, setningene er perfekt skrudd til, perspektivene og referansene er unike. Jeg føler at jeg skjønner litt mer av noe jeg ikke har skjønt før.

[Nina (ninjasbooks) · Rating 3 out of 5]

Boka er velskreve, og viktig. Samtidig blei det vel mykje filosofi og eg skulle ønske at Grue gikk meir kronologisk til verks i beskrivelsen av sitt liv.

[Hil · Rating 5 out of 5]

I read this book in one day. I had a day to myself in a foreign city, and walked from cafe to park bench to random flight of stairs. I sat down, read for an hour, felt a bit chilly or hungry, walked the shortest distance I could get away with, before sitting down and reading some more.

Jan Grue has written a beautifully poignant and literally accomplished memoir about growing up with a disability. At the same time, he draws on his unique academic insights as an accomplished disability studies scholar to make his tale both deeply personal and highly thought provoking and politically relevant. There are so many different strengths to this book. The sections where he's reading his own medical journals from his childhood through the dual lens of his grown-up self and the detached scholar spurred me to think about the objectification of the patient in modern medicine in ways that I never did before. His reflections around the coexistence of his marginalisation as a person with a disability and his privilege as a child of resourceful and committed parents in the highly educated Norwegian (upper) middle class add depth and perspective and challenges some common tropes about the high achieving disabled person.

You can read this book as a memoir. You can read it as an insight into growing up with a disability. You can read it as a thoughtful and mild-mannered call to political action. Whatever, as long as you read it!

[Reading on Wheels · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5 / 5 stars

I love memoirs, and I'm desperate to learn more about individual people's experiences with disability to understand that makes up my community. I've had some pretty good experiences on this little endeavor of mine, but I sadly can't say that about a certain book I happen to be reviewing now.

That's not to say that I don't appreciate some of the little things I learned because, obviously, everyone's experience with disability and every thing is different. It was also interesting to learn a bit about healthcare and disability politics in Norway. But there also wasn't a lot of substance on these topics – the only ones I found intriguing considering I didn't really care about his life. Probably not the best mindset to have about a memoir, but alas, here we are.

It also didn't help that the writing style and constant weaving of quotes from academic inspirations came off as pretentious. I understand he's an academic and has been impacted by these other writers, but I'm not here for them, especially seeing that most of these quotes are from nondisabled white people.

But y'know, it's a memoir, so he did what he wanted. I just didn't care.

[Traci Thomas · Rating 3 out of 5]

I liked much of this memoir, a meditation style book told on fragments and reflections. Grue shares much about stigmas and feelings and his body being turned into a “case” through clinical language. It feels distant at times which I didn’t love.

[Rebecca · Rating 4 out of 5]

My Shelf Awareness review: The University of Oslo professor was diagnosed with spinal muscular atrophy at age three and relies on an electric wheelchair. In his powerful, matter-of-fact memoir, he explores the struggles and stigma of disability.

Soon after his son's birth, Grue found himself paging through his childhood medical records, marveling at the trials his parents faced. Despite leg braces and customized shoes, he was never going to be a "normal" boy, though he attended mainstream schools. Earning a driver's license for a car with hand controls, he achieved independence. However, studying abroad was challenging in old-fashioned, canal-strewn St. Petersburg and Amsterdam, and even in Berkeley, Calif., where he was a Fulbright fellow, he wasn't guaranteed accessible housing.

"This is how one becomes a problem: by pointing out a problem," Grue remarks. Much as he prefers to blend in quietly, at times he's forced to take up the role of a disability activist. Navigating airports, in particular, poses difficulties that require him to speak out. It takes two pages to describe the precise sequence of movements involved just in standing up from the sofa. By detailing such practicalities, the book elicits compassionate understanding.

Grue alternates between his own story and others' (especially poet/journalist Mark O'Brien, who lived in an iron lung), doctors' reports and theorists' quotations, mingling the academic and the intimate. The fragments build to a deep meditation on the nature of memory and the body versus the self.

(Posted with permission from Shelf Awareness.)

[Elida (elidaleser) · Rating 2 out of 5]

Eg ville gjerne like denne, men dessverre så klarer den ikkje å engasjere meg. Jan Grue er god akademisk og skriver godt, men i denne boka vil han for mykje. Han skriver både om seg sjølv, om livet med Ida Jackson, om alle turane med rullestol (som både fungerte og ikkje) og om alle tekstane han har lest om det å vera sårbar.

Det er ingen kapittel-inndeling noko eg i utgangspunktet misliker sterkt, og når historiane kjem rotete og usamanhengande blir det bare rot for meg.

[Cate Triola · Rating 5 out of 5]

This quotation is from an unpublished proof, so it may look different after publication, but I found it really moving, and I think it captures Grue's writing very well.

"I cannot rid myself of grief over the body that was not. Psychiatry keeps setting tighter limits on when grief stops being healthy and starts to become pathological, six months, three months, four weeks, grief becomes a sickness and sickness is something you are supposed to recover from. But grief is not like that, deep grief can last an entire lifetime, mine does. It’s not the kind that tears me to pieces. It is a part of me. To live with it is to acknowledge that it exists and will continue to exist." (247-248)

[Ingrid Petrine · Rating 5 out of 5]

Jeg er overrasket over hvor godt jeg likte Jeg lever et liv som ligner deres. Jan Grue leser selv lydboken, og det var nok med på å løfte hele leseopplevelsen. Sitatene, rytmen, stilen - alt kommer til sin fulle rett i denne lydboken, som tilgjengeliggjør det utilgjengelige ved teksten. Jeg er faktisk ikke sikker på om jeg hadde kommet like godt inn i teksten dersom jeg hadde lest den på papir eller skjerm, noe jeg ser flere har slitt med. Grues formidlingsevne er fabelaktig, og den kler den nakne og selvransakende historien han forteller. Jeg så noen andre bruke uttrykket "horisontutvidende" om denne boken, og det er så treffende at jeg vil låne det.

Lurer du på hvilken lydbok du skal avslutte 2019 med, har du altså en glødende anbefaling her.

[Olly90 · Rating 4 out of 5]

4,5⭐️
“𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒂𝒚 𝒂𝒔𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇, 𝒘𝒆𝒍𝒍
𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒅𝒊𝒅 𝑰 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆?”
(𝑻𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒔)

Questo è un libro che va maneggiato con cura, come il corpo del suo protagonista.
Questa è una narrazione onesta, dura e commovente della vita di Jan, di quando era solo un bambino e non sapeva che c’era qualcosa di sbagliato in lui,perchè quella era l’unica condizione di vita che conosceva, delle cose che voleva fare ma che non sarebbe stato in grado di fare, della frustrazione e della rabbia per la poca empatia che spesso il mondo gli ha riservato a causa della sua disabilità.
Ma questa è anche una meravigliosa storia di rivincita personale, di forza di volontà, di amore e di meditazione. Di Jan che si è fatto uomo e che grazie a un’improvviso miglioramento della sua diagnosi compie un viaggio di riconsiderazione di sé, delle sue fragilità e del suo corpo.

A Jan Grue è stata diagnosticata, all’età di soli tre anni, l’atrofia muscolare spinale che lo ha costretto a vivere la sua vita in carrozzina, con l'aspettativa che con il tempo questa condizione sarebbe peggiorata sempre più. Ha vissuto in Norvegia con i suoi genitori e le sue sorelle, e grazie a loro, ma grazie anche a se stesso e alla sua forza i volontà, è andato all'università e ha vissuto in diversi paesi. È diventato un professore, un marito e un padre, e le persone che lo hanno incontrato di nuovo quando era adulto erano sorprese che fosse ancora vivo.

Jan sa chi è, non ha mai avuto dubbi su questo, l’unico dubbio che ha sempre avuto è chi sarebbe diventato. Per scoprirlo ha dovuto crearsi un nuovo linguaggio, progettare una vita su misura per lui, riconsiderare il suo corpo, imparare ad ascoltarlo, capirlo e proteggerlo. Proteggerlo dalla società e dalle istituzioni che lo vedono solo come un soggetto con disabilità, visibile ma invisibile allo stesso tempo.

L’autore tra queste pagine ci affida la sua vita, senza più paura e vergogna, una vita che sarebbe potuta essere diversa ma comunque una vita che merita, come tutte le altre, di essere vissuta.

Jan Grue in questo intenso e commovente memoir, che in alcune parti si trasforma in saggio filosofico e scientifico (queste parti, meno coinvolgenti a mio parere ma comunque molto interessanti, spezzano la toccante narrazione, e sono il motivo per cui non ho dato cinque stelle), ci racconta di come ha capito di essere sempre stato un’essere umano come tutti gli altri.

“La mia vita come la tua” è autobiografico, è esistenziale, è filosofico, è una storia d'amore, è coraggio, è speranza, è umanità e libertà.
È un libro che tutti dovremmo leggere.

[Shannon · Rating 4 out of 5]

A really great look at what life with a disability is like. Written by Norwegian author Jan Grue who has spinal muscular atrophy and uses a wheelchair, this book is full of insightful commentary on how human people with disabilities are and the unique challenges they face. I especially enjoyed the sections about him and his wife experiencing the birth of their first child. At certain points he gets a little too cerebral, quoting other writers but overall this was highly relatable and a great book for able bodied readers to educate themselves. Recommended for fans of books like Sitting Pretty by Rebekah Taussig.

[Bendik Thommesen · Rating 3 out of 5]

«Other people like to help. They don’t know how exactly, but they’re willing. Some of them are good at lifting, others are not as good. Some of them keep their distance, others are stiff and nervous. This is not what I need. I need someone who gets up close enough to recognize where I am weak and where I am strong, which direction I’m able to bend if and when I am in the process of losing my balance. It often comes down to chance, but those who are best at supporting me are often those who have small children, who are used to carrying someone else, used to bodies that are weaker than their own.»

[Silvia · Rating 4 out of 5]

Un libro autentico e necessario, che ti fa rendere conto dei tuoi privilegi e che ti insegna qualcosa: sentendo direttamente la voce di qualcuno che vive con una malattia del genere ti ricorda di essere più responsabile, più attento e aiuta a guardare il mondo da un’altra prospettiva. La scrittura è attenta e ricercata, si vede che è un accademico a scrivere ma al tempo stesso è davvero scorrevole.

[Ylva Østby · Rating 5 out of 5]

This memoir is a profound reading experience - and a life experience captured on paper. Reading this made me aware not only of Jan Grue's experience with the world, and how similar and different it is all at once, but also of our interconnectedness with our environment in general. Read it! You won't regret!!

[Olav Nilsen · Rating 4 out of 5]

Fin bok om det å være menneske

[Synne · Rating 5 out of 5]

Satte ord på opplevelser jeg ikke hadde begrep for. Sterk.

[Cathérine · Rating 3 out of 5]

3 1/2 *

[Hans F. M. · Rating 3 out of 5]

Vil egentlig gi 4/5, men de filosofiske delen er til tider litt for utfordrende for meg.

[Kathy Joakimsen · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5

[Seregnani · Rating 4 out of 5]

«Una diagnosi è intima, è una risposta. Se arriva dopo anni di incertezza, può risultare liberatoria. Conferma che le preoccupazioni non erano inutili, che c'era davvero un problema.Se la diagnosi descrive una condizione degenerativa, è anche fonte di inquietudine. Evoca immagini del futuro, è la mappa che conduce al luogo in cui non vorresti mai andare. Chi non ha mai ricevuto una diagnosi è libero senza nemmeno saperlo.
Ma che succede quando una diagnosi svanisce all'improvviso, in un soffio?
Qualcosa se ne va, anche se in realtà non c'è mai stato, e tutto il resto rimane uguale.
Era tutto come prima, a parte il nome, eppure questo cambiava tutto. Il mio corpo era lo stesso, ma adesso era mio in un modo diverso. Non c’era nessun peggioramento che mi aspettava dietro l'angolo. L'atrofia muscolare spinale è una malattia degenerativa, ma io non avevo subito alcuna degenerazione. Ero più forte del previsto, camminavo ancora.
Adesso potevo fidarmi del mio corpo. Era la diagnosi a essere sbagliata.»


4 ⭐️ Jan Grue, l’autore di questo libro, si racconta in questo memoir fantastico.
Ogni tanto a Jan capita di incontrare persone che lo hanno conosciuto da bambino e non si aspettavano di rivederlo da adulto, il primo pensiero che hanno vedendolo è: sei ancora vivo?
È successo anche con una scrittrice che era stata sua compagna di liceo. Una ventina d'anni dopo la scuola si sono reincontrati e con uno sguardo fulmineo gli ha detto che all'epoca lo sapevano tutti, che non avrebbe vissuto a lungo.
Ma Jan lo sapeva? Certo, solo che non trovava le parole per dirlo. Le sta cercando adesso, scrivendo questo libro.
Ora abita nella città dove è cresciuto , è un accademico ed è sposato con Ida e ha un figlio di nome Alexander.
Jan e Ida viaggiano molto insieme, sono innamorati freschi e si innamorano insieme dei luoghi dove vanno. Molti lui li ha già visitati in passato e vorrebbe raccontarle tutto ciò che già sa, perché lo sappia anche lei, ma al tempo stesso non vorrebbe dirle niente, per poter riscoprire tutto insieme. Le astrazioni non ci dicono nulla, le vecchie citazioni non ci dicono nulla se non ne conosciamo il peso reale. La parola deve farsi corpo.
Dobbiamo capire chi siamo noi nel mondo e cos'è il mondo per noi.
Appena diventato padre ritira dalla casa dei suoi genitori un intero scaffale di cartelle cliniche, una coincidenza ma quando lui e Ida hanno avuto la certezza che sarebbero divenuti genitori, han creato un raccoglitore con le carte della gravidanza.
Significa lasciarsi alle spalle una scia di briciole, segnare il sentiero con un filo rosso. Significa non accettare di perdersi, esigere la verità.
Tra le carte che ho ereditato dai miei ci sono referti medici, note cliniche, certificati di ricovero in ospedale, copie di lettere a enti comunali e statali, ad agenzie di viaggi e a fornitori di ausili.
Leggere questi documenti, per quanto prosaici e logori, è come tuffarsi nell'acqua gelida. Conoscere il punto in cui ci si può buttare, vederlo con la coda dell'occhio prima di togliersi i vestiti e lanciarsi all'improvviso, non basta ad alleviare l'impatto.
Questa cronologia è diversa da quella che ricorda di avere seguito, è una vita diversa da quella che ricorda di avere vissuto.
Ma nel me di cui parlano fatico a riconoscermi e la cronologia tracciata non conduce alla mia vita di adesso. Questi documenti tratteggiano una vita diversa, molto più infelice, forse più breve, in ogni caso una vita con poca gioia. Del resto, era questo l'orizzonte d'attesa.
Un libro profondo, consiglio a tutti la lettura.

[Jennifer White · Rating 4 out of 5]

Jan Grue's book provides a window into life with a progressive, genetic disease that has rendered him weak and almost entirely reliant on his electric wheelchair. He is very articulate in describing his condition, leading me to self-reflect on the luck of having a healthy body and glimpse the world through my son's eyes, my son who has a similar, though less severe condition.

Of his disease he says, "If a diagnosis describes a progressive condition, it can also be a source of unease. It conjures images of the future. It is a road map to a place you don't want to visit" (150). The concept of progressive is tough to deal with. It leaves so much uncertainty, especially when doctors, like Grue's doctors, expected him dead by his twenties rather than an accomplished professor and writer.

Grue shows us how everyday tasks we take for granted are difficult. He writes of the planning it takes just in getting off of the sofa by himself. His wife calls him a "top-level athlete" (172). He describes his sport as an "average day...every trip from the sofa to the kitchen is a sprint, a dead-lift, a marathon" (172). Grue also discusses the headaches of traveling with a wheelchair, of the weight of his motorized wheelchair, of waiting after landing for wheelchair assistance. He writes about missing the birth of his son because his wheelchair would not fit in his wife's hospital room.

Overall, his book also serves to critique both the lack of accessibility in Norway but also the mechanical way he is treated by social services and his doctors, as if he is not human. This is an important work.

[Bjørg (mellom linjene) · Rating 5 out of 5]

Denne boka her, altså! Jeg lever et liv som ligner på deres av Jan Grue er ein utruleg sterk tekst. Jan Grue har ein medfødt muskelsjukdom, som gjer at han er heilt avhengig av den elektriske rullestolen sin og ei rekke andre hjelpemidler. I kontrast til bølgja av romaner i grenseland mellom fakta og fiksjon, er denne boka lansert som sakprosa. Det er likevel ei biografisk bok, med eit sterkt essayistisk preg.

Jan Grue er som alle andre og samtidig har han ein kropp som gjer at han er annleis enn alle andre. Han skriv om utenforskap og lengsle etter å leve det same livet som andre barn, tenåringer, studentar og småbarnsforeldre. Og samtidig skriv han om å ha ein kropp som er annleis. Han skriv om korleis rullestolen er ei forlenging av kroppen og om korleis grensene mellom kropp og hjelpemiddel blir viska bort og blir uklare. Han skriv om blikka som betraktar han, om korleis han er synleg og om det å bli sett og vurdert med eit klinisk blikk.

Sjølv om mi sjukdomshistorie er veldig ulik Jan Grue si, er det mykje eg kan relatere til. Særleg det som handler bli betrakta med eit klinisk blikk og det å ville ein normalitet som ein ikkje har kapasitet til, kan eg relatere til. Og innimellom får eg vondt i magen og tårer i augene, fordi eg kjenner meg så sterkt igjen i Grue sitt språk.

Dette er ei bok som fortener eit skikkelig blogginnlegg. Men i første omgang nøyer eg meg med ei sterk tilråding her: Denne boka burde alle lese!

Boka er eit leseeksemplar som eg har fått frå @gyldendal_no . Det gjer ho ikkje mindre god! .

[Zibby Owens · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book is about the author who was diagnosed with a genetic disorder called Spinal Muscular Atrophy, and the man he grows to defies not only his early diagnosis but the very definition of being disabled. While he shares stories of his life, he intersperses thoughts about his disability and how the diagnosis affected his life. What’s particularly notable about the book is how the trajectory of the author’s life is changed by the initial diagnosis that would have had him unable to walk by twenty. That diagnosis was wrong, so there’s a beautiful resonance for all of us about what we believe is true and how that alters our lives accordingly.

This author is such a beautiful writer. The prose, the way he writes, is so poetic and lyrical. I was impressed and riveted by his writing style, not to mention his amazing story about accepting one's own body and limitations in the face of a disability. One great quote from the book is about time. The author writes, “I cannot hurry. This is a sobering bit of evidence in my case and a crucial factor, a gigantic boulder in the middle of the road. I cannot hurry to the subway because my wheelchair can only go the speed that it goes. I cannot run. If I leave five minutes late from my home, I will arrive five minutes late at my destination. I cannot hurry to the bathroom. If I try to walk faster than my normal speed, I trip and fall. Time is inelastic. I require the time that I require."

To listen to my interview with the author, go to my podcast at: https://zibbyowens.com/transcript/jan...

[Debra Golden · Rating 4 out of 5]

I read "Being Heumann" and didn't plan on another autobiography with such a strong connection, but glad I picked this up. It could be an interesting discussion to compare their stories.
The author shares his story of living with disability and being a wheelchair user, and it is touchingly personal. I would expect someone in Northern Europe would have an easier time of it. *sigh*
Travels through airports, finding a pace to live in grad school (in the U.S.!) should not be the burden he presents. Felling like a burden is another "challenge."
His life in many ways that matter is like mine or yours.

[Roberto Marana · Rating 4 out of 5]

Questo libro è la ricerca profonda di una lingua nuova che possa raccontare la storia dell’autore, a cui hanno diagnosticato fin da piccolo una patologia neuromuscolare.

Cosa significa vivere in un corpo vulnerabile?
Cosa significa essere sempre osservati dalla società, dal sistema sanitario e assistenziale o semplicemente dalle persone che si incontrano?

La mia vita come la vostra è un confronto schietto e senza sconti con la propria fragilità fisica; un memoir di una potenza inaudita che vuole abbattere gli stigmi sociali che ogni giorno le persone disabili si trovano a subire.

La storia di Jan Grue fa riflettere ed emozionare. CONSIGLIATISSIMO!

[Marit · Rating 5 out of 5]

En vakker bok, som gir et innblikk i hvordan det er å være en del av et samfunn, som ikke alltid ser på deg som en del av seg selv!

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A beautiful book which gives you insight in how it is to be a part of a society that doesn't always consider you as a part of itself.

[Sandra The Old Woman in a Van · Rating 4 out of 5]

A short and worthy memoir. I was especially struck by the authors description of his son’s birth and the ways it changed his perspective. There is a lot in here that everyone would benefit from listening to, but I think teachers and other service people would especially benefit from it.

[Danielle W · Rating 2 out of 5]

I was interested to read this but it is much more existential than I prefer. Call me low brow but, once you are including multiple block text quotations from Foucault and Jeremy Bentham, you've already lost me.

[Maria · Rating 5 out of 5]

brilliant memoir by a disabled guy.
"My work deals first of all with embodiment - with what it means to be a body in an endlessly complex world."