Attraversiamo

I hate admitting this, because it’s so housewifey and self-helpish. I was watching Oprah the other day (that’s the part, I hate to admit…carry on.) She was interviewing the writer of the book she was showcasing that month. Her name is Elizabeth Gilbert (which I was grateful for because it was an easy name for me to remember. Little House on The Prairie Gilbert)
As this woman was speaking…or at least trying to talk when Oprah’s lips weren’t flapping with compliments and gushing on and on…I was connecting with her.
I rushed out and bought the book with the remaining borrowed dollars my mom and sister sent me.

Right now I am just in the beginning part of the book…which according to Kalki…is really the only good part of the book. I ran across Kalki’s review while checking to see if I spelled the Italian word for “Let’s Cross Over” correctly. I’m a long time fan of Kalki (we go back) so I was happy to read her review. I was hoping I could grab her and dance the ‘I found a great book’ dance with her. She didn’t like it so much. I still love her.

That’s not going to stop me from my gushing part of this book. Like I said, I’m still only in the first part of the book, but holy damn do I relate to this journey. She recites Rumi and the Bhagavad gita. I am in awe of her ability to make everything sound like a taste.

I keep putting the book down and finding it hard to not clap after I finish whatever it was I just read. I want to rush out and learn Italian and have a real reason for being overweight other than sheer laziness.

She talks about living a life that doesn’t resemble her. She admits to laying on the floor in a sobbing mess. Her path through divorce and her relationship with her lover are far too real to me. This journey is mine. Except I don’t have the cash or lack of responsibility to drop everything and go to Italy, India and Indonesia. My journey is here, in the USA, California, Rocklin…in the small sub-community of Stanford Ranch. My food isn’t bursting with flavor, because it wasn’t until I started watching Rachel Ray did I know there was a huge difference between cooking with Olive Oil than Vegetable Oil. Who knew?
My praying has mostly been done on the bathroom floor above the toilet after a night out (during the divorce) where I would pray the same prayer over and over. “Dear Lord, if you get me through this without the spinning and vomiting I will NEVER drink another drink as long as I live.”
My closest to Yoga is the balancing act I would try to do during college. Homework, Kids, Work and what box of Pasta Roni would we eat that night.

This book, so far, came to me at a point where I am searching for something. First the scissors. We all need to start somewhere, right?

Shaun and I went on a date the other night. We sat in Barnes and Noble bookstore after dinner and I watched this guy with his laptop and headphones and he was writing something. There were other things going on around me and I tried to soak it all in. People were just sitting there reading. Some where eating and flipping through magazines. People were out there doing their things.
Could I fit into this world? Could I walk outside of my box and just ‘be’? Could I do it and not feel like a fraud trying to fit in with the people that can just do that…just sit out there in the open and read or even have on a pair of headphones IN PUBLIC without the fear of someone sneaking up behind me and killing me? Could I do this?

I shall try.

I’m going to pack the 7 pairs of scissors in my laptop bag…JUST IN CASE though.