Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Absolute

Minutes ago, I completed Eat, Pray, Love.

Just days ago I was appalled that Liz had sex toward the end of her world tour to contentment. Liz had sex! I thought her journey was about balance and self-discovery and acceptance. That does not include sex, you hussy! I was angry and totally turned off (no pun intended). Oh, the many great lessons I have learned! What a difference this book has made in my life! This rejoicing concluded the moment Liz and Felipe got it on, knocked the boots, played disappearing sock puppets...you get the point (by the way, I made that last one up).

Why did Liz's sex life get me so hot and bothered (again, no pun intended)? Like I said, I thought this journey of hers was about self-discovery, acceptance, balance, and love (well, not that kind). She traveled to Italy, India, and Indonesia to find these things, and it bothered me that she ended up doing something she could easily do in America -- play disappearing sock puppets.

I took a day's hiatus to catch my breath and scoffed in disappointment one last time as I opened the book this afternoon. After an hour or so of pre- and post-work reading, I found myself saddened and delighted that this story had come to an end.

Come to find out, Mr. and Miss Hussy ended up getting married and the Hussies are living happily-ever-after in New Jersey. Even more so, I have gotten over the getting it on and take from this book all of the blessings and insight that were meant to be mine since I started reading about Liz's journey, for the success of my own journey, just a few short weeks ago. I especially like how Liz ends the book, relating herself to the oak tree and the acorn. These days, I feel so similar.

It is the woman I am today who has nourished the weaker me throughout the years. It is this Kristin, the Kristin who sits typing vigorously this very moment, who has pulled the complacent and stagnant me out of my depression and hopelessness all those years, months, and even weeks ago. The light I so inexplicably experienced during my darkest days now has a harbor. The strong, resilient, content Kristin for whom I searched and searched has existed all along. A part of her resides in me, and a part of me resides in her. Each day the boundaries which separate her and I become less profound. Eventually, we will become one.

1 comment:

  1. K, I think that was such a generous way to look at the book (I am referring to your last paragraph). I actually had the most problem with Liz at then end, when I felt she gave herself all the credit for her growth and not God. I felt like she was saying, she was god... I am still not sure. But I like what you took away from it and I have no problem with your own application. Integration of self is what you are describing and I couldn't agree more with what you wrote.

    pc

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