Eat, Love

Written by Carol Cain on 21 October 2010

I am sitting in my bed, in a beautiful small hotel in Sag Harbor, NY. Onstar has invited me here for what is essentially a weekend in which we, females of the media, can feel empowered and can simplify our lives. Of course at the core of this theme is how their product, Onstar, can help us do that.

It’s day one and I have already bonded with women who only this morning were complete strangers to me. After volunteering at a battered women’s shelter -which left my heart aching at how sweet the children there were-we headed over to Wolffer Estate to reconnect with each other, share our feelings and thoughts about what we had just experienced and observed, while looking out into a gorgeous vineyard.

The sun was setting and the sky came alive with a feast of colors, as if doing one last majestical dance for all to witness and remember how small they are in comparison.

As I stood there surrounded by all these women, I turned to embrace them each because truly how often do I get to stand in such a beautiful place, under such a breathtaking spectacle, while surrounded by amazing women I never knew before?

The happy emotions of my day are still spinning excitedly as I lay in my tub with one of the most difficult books I have read in ages, “Eat, Pray, Love“. This woman’s journey has been so incredibly difficult to follow. I just can’t seem to connect with her. I’ve given a lot of thought as to why this is and I honestly can’t pin point the reasons.

A part of me thinks that maybe it’s my inability to relate to the severe depression she experiences because although I have experienced depression at some points in my life, I have always managed to cry it out, then get up, shake myself off, and move on. So for the first couple of chapters I ask, “Why oh why are you crying? Again? But you’re in Rome!” And I hate myself for being so insensitive! So I read on.

During a first few weeks in Italy she cries a bit more but manages to somehow find joy (and mental health) in eating (duh), and gains some weight. I notice that the more she eats the better her story telling gets. She is descriptive and provides me with the imagery I need to feel as if I was right there with her.

But then she goes to Indonesia. And this is where I am as the water in my tub starts getting cold and the book fails to enrapture me in such a way that I can’t help but notice how a hot shower might be better then this.

So, as I stand in the shower and let the warm droplets caress my tired, tired being, I give thought to this book, and this woman’s journey (I am stuck in the part where she’s trying to meditate).

I can’t meditate. Every time I have made an effort to sit down through the meditation process of “clearing my head” I end up with enough clarity in my mind to remember that I had forgotten to do something important. It’s like cleaning out an old drawer: once you take all the top stuff out you find that underneath all that stuff was something more important that you had forgotten about because all the other crap was covering it.

So, I’ll remember things like “I need to get milk”, or “I forgot to mail in the rent check”, or “Dammit! I’m supposed to be on a conference call right now!”

And I am ok with that. I embrace my restlessness, rather then ponder and grieve over what could possibly be wrong with me. So, I put the book down, because I realize that the Pray, in “Eat, Pray, Love” is boring me to tears because I don’t understand.

My lack of understanding and boredom with the “Pray” is not to say I don’t pray. I pray all the time. Or rather I have a conversation with someone far more powerful then me all the time. I don’t think I am crazy, I mean it’s GOD, right? I have a direct-hands-free-no-appointment-needed type of communication with God.

I had a conversation just this morning with Him as I was digging for clothes to come for this trip. I said, “God, when are you going to give me a sense of style? I am almost 40 years old and dress like a Tomboy?? Seriously God. Cut me a break here.”

And those conversations, or prayers, are helpful to me sometimes but I rather focus my efforts and energy on eating and loving, where eating less-but not so much less that I am unhappy- and loving more -but not so much more that I make others unhappy-are my key goals.

I wish more of my days consisted of Eat and Love. Or Love and Eat. It doesn’t really matter. As long as I am happy. And I am. I want my days to be a lot like today was: I have traveled to one of the most beautiful places in New York state. I have eaten some of the best local food surrounded by the laughter and growing affection of strong, talented, smart women.

I am going to bed thinking, “Ya know kiddo, you showed love today and you shared good food. Ya did good! Let’s go for repeats tomorrow!”

Judging by the peace in my heart and happiness in my life, I suspect that the random conversations with myself, or praying, are working. I guess, at the end of the day, to eat and love really isn’t so awful, and the pray part should never be so stressful.

Especially when traveling.