(from redridinghood.tumblr.com via weheartit)
As usual, my summer reading list has remained relatively unread. Perhaps I just shouldn't make lists. It's nice to organize my thoughts and to give myself deadlines and to-dos, but I never follow through. Anyway, that's not the point of this entry.
The point is that I did read some books, the most recent of which is Elizabeth Gilbert's Eat, Pray, Love. (There's no underline function on blogger. That's annoying.) To quote the back cover, "Following a divorce and a crushing depression, Gilbert set out to examine three different aspects of her nature, set against the backdrop of three different cultures: pleasure in Italy, devotion in India, and on the Indonesian island of Bali, a balance between worldly enjoyment and divine transcendence."
I guess I wanted this book to speak to me more than it did; I wanted it to apply to me perfectly, which is ludicrous, really--in no way have I experienced the loss, heartbreak, and depression that the author did. But I feel as though this summer has been one full of soul-searching, and I was hoping this book would provide me with valuable insights for figuring out myself, my place in the world, and the things I want from myself and those around me.
In some respects, it did. A few choice quotes that made me stop and think (and ask questions):
"To me, the Augusteum is like a person who's led a totally crazy life--who maybe started out as a housewife, then unexpectedly became a widow, then took up fan-dancing to make money, ended up somehow as the first female dentist in outer space, and then tried her hand at national politics--yet who has managed to hold an intact sense of herself throughout every upheaval. I look at the Augusteum, and I think that perhaps my life has not actually been so chaotic, after all. It is merely this world that is chaotic, bringing changes to us all that nobody could have anticipated. The Augusteum warns me not to get attached to any obsolete ideas about who I am, what I represent, whom I belong to, or what function I may once have intended to serve. Yesterday i might have been a glorious monument to somebody, true enough--but tomorrow I could be a fireworks depository."
So what's the point of trying to figure myself out if the person I am today is definitely not the person I'll be in a year? Why waste all this time worrying and wondering? I don't dispute that the world brings unanticipated changes to everyone, but then what's the point of even trying to make sense of it all? And why does the thought of not wanting to make sense of it all bother me so much?
"Ketut said he could answer my question with a picture. He showed me a sketch he'd made once during meditation. It was an androgynous human figure, standing up, hands clasped in prayer. But this figure had four legs, and no head. Where the head should have been, there was only a wild foliage of ferns and flowers. There was a small, smiling face drawn over the heart. 'To find the balance you want, this is what you must become. You must keep your feet grounded so firmly on the earth that it's like you have four legs, instead of two. That way, you can stay in the world. But you must stop looking at the world through your head. You must look through your heart, instead. That way, you will know God.'"
The way I understand it, Gilbert believes that "God" is actually just an energy within her, within all of us. We all have "God" in our hearts, and we can call it whatever we would like; it is just comfortable for her to call that God. But then aren't you just praying to yourself, trying to get in touch with your inner energy and balance? Isn't that kind of strange?
So instead of being enlightened, I am burdened by more and more questions. But there was a quote that I think we should all live by:
"...and when you sense a faint potentiality for happiness after such dark times you must grab onto the ankles of that happiness and not let go until it drags you face-first out of the dirt--this is not selfishness, but obligation. You were given life; it is your duty (and also your entitlement as a human being) to find something beautiful within life, no matter how slight."
The point is that I did read some books, the most recent of which is Elizabeth Gilbert's Eat, Pray, Love. (There's no underline function on blogger. That's annoying.) To quote the back cover, "Following a divorce and a crushing depression, Gilbert set out to examine three different aspects of her nature, set against the backdrop of three different cultures: pleasure in Italy, devotion in India, and on the Indonesian island of Bali, a balance between worldly enjoyment and divine transcendence."
I guess I wanted this book to speak to me more than it did; I wanted it to apply to me perfectly, which is ludicrous, really--in no way have I experienced the loss, heartbreak, and depression that the author did. But I feel as though this summer has been one full of soul-searching, and I was hoping this book would provide me with valuable insights for figuring out myself, my place in the world, and the things I want from myself and those around me.
In some respects, it did. A few choice quotes that made me stop and think (and ask questions):
"To me, the Augusteum is like a person who's led a totally crazy life--who maybe started out as a housewife, then unexpectedly became a widow, then took up fan-dancing to make money, ended up somehow as the first female dentist in outer space, and then tried her hand at national politics--yet who has managed to hold an intact sense of herself throughout every upheaval. I look at the Augusteum, and I think that perhaps my life has not actually been so chaotic, after all. It is merely this world that is chaotic, bringing changes to us all that nobody could have anticipated. The Augusteum warns me not to get attached to any obsolete ideas about who I am, what I represent, whom I belong to, or what function I may once have intended to serve. Yesterday i might have been a glorious monument to somebody, true enough--but tomorrow I could be a fireworks depository."
So what's the point of trying to figure myself out if the person I am today is definitely not the person I'll be in a year? Why waste all this time worrying and wondering? I don't dispute that the world brings unanticipated changes to everyone, but then what's the point of even trying to make sense of it all? And why does the thought of not wanting to make sense of it all bother me so much?
"Ketut said he could answer my question with a picture. He showed me a sketch he'd made once during meditation. It was an androgynous human figure, standing up, hands clasped in prayer. But this figure had four legs, and no head. Where the head should have been, there was only a wild foliage of ferns and flowers. There was a small, smiling face drawn over the heart. 'To find the balance you want, this is what you must become. You must keep your feet grounded so firmly on the earth that it's like you have four legs, instead of two. That way, you can stay in the world. But you must stop looking at the world through your head. You must look through your heart, instead. That way, you will know God.'"
The way I understand it, Gilbert believes that "God" is actually just an energy within her, within all of us. We all have "God" in our hearts, and we can call it whatever we would like; it is just comfortable for her to call that God. But then aren't you just praying to yourself, trying to get in touch with your inner energy and balance? Isn't that kind of strange?
So instead of being enlightened, I am burdened by more and more questions. But there was a quote that I think we should all live by:
"...and when you sense a faint potentiality for happiness after such dark times you must grab onto the ankles of that happiness and not let go until it drags you face-first out of the dirt--this is not selfishness, but obligation. You were given life; it is your duty (and also your entitlement as a human being) to find something beautiful within life, no matter how slight."
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