WRITING, PRAYING, AGAIN...

So, I just came from reading the book by Elizabeth Gilbert called ‘Eat, Pray, Love’ – she ate in Italy, prayed in India and found Love (and balance) in Bali. I have to admit I started out not being too thrilled by this book – I found the author tended to use language that was too expressive so that one felt she was trying too hard – not to say that her analogies were not very vivid or interesting or funny, or that her expressions were out of place – it is just that they were a wee bit overdone. I myself prefer the understatement of things, the stealthy coming upon me of facts, events, meanings.. so that page after page I am subtly drawn into the tale without my even noticing it.

ANYWAY.

I guess just like meeting someone that you doubt you are going to like at first, some people grow on one, and before you know it, they are playing a pivotal role in your life!! I eventually began to relate to the author because we share a love for travel and food! In addition to that was her search for God, for balance, for love – for love and acceptance of self above all. For contentment. Peace. At one point I also recognised my tendency to yap because boy can this author yap! It brought me face to face with my own inability to be silent (she found this particularly hard as well) as I recalled this very past weekend. There are these people who make the journey from the city to travel the 80 odd km to our University every other Sunday, and I often travel along with them. Now what happens is that I find myself telling story after story or commenting on the scenery or sharing my profound insights into life!! Every passing car reminds me of this or the other incident, every song that plays on the car radio has a story to it. Sometimes after I have told a particularly long anecdote, silence will descend upon us and I will realise that I have been ranting on about a not particularly exciting story about people none of them know for the last 15 minutes. As I read the book I recalled catching myself repeatedly interrupting guys in the car this past weekend. And it is not even that I am uncomfortable with silence (I answered that question long ago), I think I am just starved for conversation with like minded people, which is why I should realise that interrupting them and hogging all the attention is hardly the way to get them to keep asking me to ride with them. Case in point:

I was telling this story about a woman who had gotten married the previous weekend – I should say here that I heard this story third or fourth hand and I have told it to three or four different parties – I fear with slight adjustments for effect every time. Anyway, the bride to be admitted to her girlfriends at her bridal shower that her fiancé was not the least bit romantic, but that she had learned to live with it. My friends went on to tell me they proved this by the fact that the man did not crack a single smile the entire day of his wedding, failing to crack even under the continuous teasing and cajoling of the MC and everyone who took the mic besides, not even the photographers were able to put a dent in his armour, I’d like to think that even the celebrant would have had no luck if he tried (I might have reported the celebrant bit as though it really happened). Anyway, I point out that this is not to say, in my opinion, that not smiling = not romantic but anyway, my friends took this as evidence. Further evidence that their friend was really in trouble though came with the groom’s speech: he told his friends that they were now welcome to visit any time because at last he had a real home and someone to cook and clean – my friends SWORE this was true!! Apparently one of them rang the happy bride the day after the wedding to see that she was well rested etc. and found her en-route to the shops to get spices for a goat that her in-laws had given them at the wedding that was going down that day!

Now, in the middle of telling this story, one of my listeners interjects to say that all this business of being ‘romantic’ was over rated and misunderstood. He took a breath to expound and I jumped in there: ‘of course romance is misunderstood (I did not want to be caught thinking otherwise – I actually think many girls put too much emphasis on ‘romantic’ as a trait and ignore more important characteristics, but surely I could have let the man finish his thought!! I was fully aware that I didn’t want him finishing before I said my bit because I didn’t want him thinking I thought being romantic was a big deal (I do think it isn’t the end all and be all). However this is evidence of my general fighting for acceptance (?), or something like that. Anyway I prattled on about how it was more important for a future spouse be considerate, caring, loving, committed, helpful, etc., and that a lot of girls were too easily swept off their feet by flowers and chocolate and sweet nothings, which some sharp men were using to great advantage more and more these days, and on and on and I pontificated!! My poor listener had to leave the floor.

All this to say: I really related to the writer of the book on the issue of being unable to be silent, and even attempted some meditation after I finished reading the book. I am sorry to report that my mind simply refused to be quieted! Mediation has never been easy I have to admit. It could be a residual fear from the time I was Christian when it was said that meditation and emptying one’s mind was opening a gateway for demons or evil spirits.. Or it could be that my mind is teeming with so many thoughts all the time that that I should not try to suppress – instead I should let them out – like I am doing now writing this down. I don’t know. Anyway during my so-called meditation, I suddenly hit on the bright idea to come sit at my computer and write as a think – in the past I have actually felt that writing was for me a way to pray, to clear my mind, to think things through, to attain realisation – or whatever. So here I am.

Someone just passed my window cryig put about how hungry she is – she reminded me of a super skinny roommate of mine at Uni who woke up everyday and ate nothing at all all day. By mid morning she would have started: ‘You guys, I am soooo famished’. as the day wore on, this began to sound like a lament – like she was praying or something. Keening – that is the word. By evening, looking like she could fade right away, she would finally nibble on a piece of bread, and the cycle would begin all over again the next day. Automatically I turn to my workmates to share this little tidbit, but I suppress the impulse. I really have my work cut out for me!!

I tell myself to just sit quietly. To reflect. Think. Be.

Another voice says: why are you trying so hard to be someone else??

A third voice says: everything is as it should be.

Things are tight!