About 4 years ago, I remember a radio DJ in Atlanta just gushing about this book that had changed her life, that every woman MUST.READ. It was Eat, Pray, Love.
Yes, it’s taken me 4 years, but I’ve finally started reading it. And I am stuck. In India.
I’m stuck in an Indian Ashram, reading the author’s spiritual journey to enlightenment and godliness. And all I can read is, “blah, blah, blah.”
Here’s an excerpt:
“Simply put, I got pulled through the wormhole of the Absolute, and in that rush I suddenly understood the workings of the universe completely. I left my body, I left the room, I left the planet, I stepped through time and I entered the void. I was inside the void, but I also was the void and I was looking at the void, all at the same time. The void was a place of limitless peace and wisdom. The void was conscious and it was intelligent. The void was God, which means that I was inside God. But not in a gross, physical way – not like I was Liz Gilbert stuck inside a chunk of God’s thigh muscle. I just was part of God. In addition to being God. I was both a tiny piece of the universe and exactly the same size as the universe. Blah, Blah, Blah.”
Ummm. Okaaaaay. (yeah, the blah, blah, blah isn’t in the book). If you haven’t read or heard of the book, the short story is that the author goes through a messy divorce, an even messier break up, and embarks on this soul-searching, God-seeking, 12 month trip, spending 4 months in Italy, India and Indonesia (in Bali – at least, she plans to spend 4 months in Bali but I’ve just read she is only legally allowed to stay 30 days. Something tells me she’ll find a way around that). She eats her way through Italy, prays her way through this Indian Ashram, and I’m assuming is going to love her way through Bali. But not physically, as she’s sworn off sex for the year.
Italy was great, an entertaining read. But I don’t know what it is about India….I really struggled to get through it. Honestly, I speed-read and skimmed a lot of the pages, and often contemplated just packing it in completely. But I made it through, and I’m in Bali. And the reading has picked up significantly.
Perhaps it was reading something so personal that put me off? I can barely define my own relationship with God, let alone buy into someone else’s. Obviously what she found in that Ashram is amazing…for her. But I feel like reading her journey is like inviting a Hare Krishna or a Jehovah Witness into my home (no offense to HKs or JoHos) and asking them to please sit down and for the next 4 hours tell me all about how they came to be practitioners of their religion.
When I just don’t really care.
I’m happy to read about her travels through and interactions in Italy, and I’m happy to read about the ancient medicine man in Bali, but I just don’t want to read about any of this “being in God” stuff.
I guess what I’m saying is, if you want to read this book, I recommend skipping India. The only redeeming quality it has is Richard from Texas.