This reflection on writing is set in motion by an analogy between the images of a researcher at his desk and a man freefalling into space. I ruminate through my story of discovering autoethnography and consider how I had to negotiate my personal history, reluctant body, and sexual orientation in order to fully participate in the healing pilgrimage I chose to study. My encounter with the intensity of the gesture of suffering in a crucifix taught me about the emotional risk of this kind of work. Later, I learned how to immerse myself in the scene as I rewrote the narrative until I could finally realize in my life the humility of listening to my experience.
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