A lot of people I know are eager to see Eat, Pray, Love. I can cast no judgment; I saw Grease Two in the theater three times. Seriously. On the subject of Eat, Pray, Love, I read the memoir, but I didn't buy the premise. The narrator, deciding she has spent her life connected to men, must "find herself." I hate this expression. Where in heaven's name have you been hiding from yourself? I have a pretty new-age bent from time to time given how I was rasied (with psychics, magic, astral projection, and just plain crazy time), but even in the worst circumstances, contrivances to know who I am never have worked for me. The times I found out what I was really like where times when I got whacked up the head by life in good and bad ways, not situations of my choosing.
I believe you can clear space for change. But I also believe that most wisdom and change comes as a result of dealing with what is in front of you. I'm not one of those go on a journey types. But like I said, I don't judge. If a journey makes you understand yourself, well, then bon voyage. As a person raised by a woman who loved nothing more than to be in motion, I am a body at rest. My travel is more the dog on a chain type, in the same predictable ruts. It may not be loads of fun, but I know who I am.
Michelle's Spell of the Day
"As we acquire more knowledge, things do not become more comprehensible, but more mysterious." Albert Schweitzer
Cocktail Hour
Bookslut Miracle Boy and Other Stories by Pinckney Benedict
www.bookslut.com
Benedictions and Maledictions
Happy Monday! Thanks for all the kind words about the new chapbook. Working on options for the cover of Love One Another Constantly. Will post them later this week and you guys can weigh in on which you like best. Rest in peace, Marvin Isley!
5 comments:
Hi Michelle
I've always thought that the "find myself" thing was just a way of saying "I'm bored to death with you and want to get the frick away". But then, maybe it works for some people, who am I to say.
Grouchie has a very hungry look in his eye, staring at that slot machine. I wouldn't lend him any money... unless he's incredibly lucky, that is.
Well said. We find out what life is about by living it.
Very well said. We rely on silly cliches to explain things we don't want to understand about ourselves so often... contrivances such as this become so much easier to tell people, and sometimes to believe, than the actual substance of the matter.
Not everyone is as smart or wise about the world as you are. Perhaps the author's biggest mistake was putting those words into print--in which case, blame the publisher too. After all, it's so often what we say and is said of us, instead of what we do, that gets us into trouble. Not making an excuse for the author, but perhaps the real story lies in what went on and how that speaks of the author and not what the author explicitly says. She just seems like yet another unreliable narrator. Life and art go on.
I know who, what and, where I am--it is the why that has become the considerable mystery.
Considering that there are years of my youth that I don't remember (due to trauma.) Every so often a memory bubbles to the surface, needing acknowledgement, mourning & integration.
Besides that, on occasion I also just suddenly realize things about myself I never knew (like 8 or so years ago, when I realized that I was alone because I wouldn't let anyone "in.")
I never actively decided to "find myself," but myself insists on being revealed, whether I like it or not.
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