If You Can’t Run, Stumble

If You Can’t Run, Stumble

Last week, I was helping a client tell a story. As we talked through his ideas together, he referred to “stumbling through” his words. 

I thought, what a great word: Stumble. If you think about it, stumbling is underrated. 

Admittedly, stumbling is never our first choice. It feels awkward and clumsy. We might even trip over our own feet, catch ourselves, and surreptitiously look around to see if anyone saw us looking dumb. 

When we sit down to write, we imagine something more akin to running — words falling out of us at a rapid and smooth pace. Quick. Exhilarating. Easy. Ahhh, just feel those words flowing out of me!

Of course, that’s not what usually happens. More commonly, whether writing or “thinking out loud”, we do what my client described. We stumble through. 

You might think, what about walking? Isn’t walking an alternative to running? Can’t we just walk our way through? Sure, that would be nice. (You know I love taking a walk.) But walking is steady and calm and implies a sense of direction. Again, less common in the writing experience.

A lot of the time, writing (and, er, living) is more like stumbling. 

But I think stumbling is kinda cool. (And more than that, it’s necessary.)

Stumbling is falling but catching. When we stumble, we might trip, but we quickly find our footing. We avoid the faceplant, feel a rush of adrenaline, and keep going.

Stumbling is moving forward. When we stumble, we have momentum. 

Stumbling is engaged and present. It forces us to focus, and tune into what’s going on.

Stumbling disrupts our usual balance. It puts us somewhere new, challenging us to adapt, recalibrate.

Stumbling is uncertain and vulnerable. It wakes us up. It helps us engage, heighten our awareness, feel more alive.

I think we should embrace the stumbling. 

When I work with clients and fellow storytellers, I can’t tell you how many times it comes back to embracing the stumble — accepting the lack of certainty and comfort and just weeding on through it. 

(In fact, if you work in theatre, you probably already know this. Julia, my sister-in-law and Co-Artistic Director for Shakespeare BASH'd, tells me that "the term for the first time you put all the scenes together in rehearsal is called a Stumble. Technically, it’s the first time you run the show, but instead of calling it a Run we call it a Stumble, because putting everything together for the first time is going to be messy. This takes the pressure off, and acknowledges that we’re all still figuring out what we’re doing, and we’re going to stumble a lot, and that's okay.")

Most of the time, we're all stumbling. In storytelling, and in life. And maybe this isn’t so bad.