eat, pray, love, and the hymn to isis
For I am the first and the last, I am the venerated and the despised, I am the prostitute and the saint, I am the wife and the virgin, I am the mother and the daughter, I am the arms of my mother, I am barren and my children are many, I am the married woman and the spinster, I am the woman who gives birth and she who never procreated, I am the consolation for the pain of birth, I am the wife and the husband, and it was my man who created me, I am the mother of my father, I am the sister of my husband, and he is my rejected son…
Always respect me, for I am shameful and the magnificent one.
~Hymn to Isis, 3rd/4th century BC, discovered in Nag Hammadi
A fitting piece for an explanation of absence. Not mine, but of somebody else. Sombody who left and never came back the way she used to. And I guess I did the same. Where else would we go when there is nowhere to go? We trace our footsteps back, way back, till we discover ourselves again, always waiting there…
This is a prelude to Indonesia…
Have you read “Eat, Pray, Love”? I thought I’d never do it, but I did. Not for the hype, I never got familiar with it till it was to be shown in theaters. I read book reviews online and heard lots of comments about it. Most of them were expressing dislike. Why? Because almost everyone says, “she is rich and she can afford it.” If you are an average woman, and you find yourself nowhere to go in the middle of THE crossroad of your life, where, indeed, will you go?
I read the book and realized, Elizabeth didn’t go to Italy to eat. She never went to India to pray. Nor did she visit Indonesia to love. She went somewhere none of us can reach. She displaced herself from the familiar and found her heart. After that, she became boundless.
I’ve had too much of escapist literature in life, I can almost taste their bitterness after reading the first page. And I can feel jealous hearts when they say, “she is rich and she can afford it.” I guess people never asked themselves, “If i were rich, would I have done it?”
I would. And on some level, I did.
I have to say that Iwas never moved this much to follow my bliss. To become selfish and selfless at the same time. Because at some point, we need to shed every fiber of what we are and reinvent and rediscover who we are, and ultimately, what we are capable of.
There is always something romantic in traveling. Alone. It is when your senses are hightened. It is when you feel that adrenalin. In states of displacement I find myself waking up in the morning with a lump on my throat. Have you felt like you have to fight for your life every single waking moment? I have. And that feeling of everyone’s eyes boring a huge hole on your back when you walk because you roam around aimlessly, innocently enjoying the space you suddenly discovered? I have. And that feeling of relief when you walk back in your rented space, alive without that hole? That is what must feel like to survive. To indulge without care because we only live once and we are here to partake of everything, to transcend faith and feel that we are one and we are many becaue we are god, to realize that love can be given again and again and again without fear that our cups might go empty because those cups are always filled to the brim… Elizabeth showed me how it really is to eat, to pray, and ultimately, how to love.
Elizabeth Gilbert… I think I now understand. We are only limited by our minds. After all, ever since I was a child, I really thought I can fly.
~for someone who will never get to spread wings and discover that the world is a safer place to be lost in than the shadows of a womb…