On occasion I watch Oprah, (she did after all recommend Graeter’s ice cream) and by chance I caught a re-run of Elizabeth Gilbert answering questions about Eat Pray Love. I don’t know much about Gilbert, but I am impressed on how her life journey touched and transformed so many women’s lives. Truthfully, I have only thumbed through a few pages of the book back when so many people recommended it (probably a year ago), including a therapist I met on one of my plane rides from New York. It was actually her conversation that convinced me to purchase it.

This may be related to the previous post, but “What do you really, really, really want it?” is a good question to ask yourself daily, says Gilbert. For me, I’ve spent my life doing what I’m supposed to do (according to other people) and worrying if I’m doing everything right (according to other people) that while I have accomplished many feats, I feel more and more lost about myself. I’ve tried to list things I want to do that I think will excite me, but I’m still not really sure. However, the one thing I know I want to do is to take that trip. I want to experience a new culture, to learn and to trust myself even to fail, and perhaps lead “a bigger smaller life.”

I know there are people searching for love or someone to complete them, but that’s not even what I want right now. This may close me to meeting people, but I think it’s attributed to the fact that I already have so much love around me, from my family and friends and some very special people. Instead I’m lumped with those who are searching for meaning.

So I have found that my confusion leads me to be quite antsy because I’m bored. (I’m certainly not getting my readings done for school.) There’s also a strange feeling of unfulfillment sometimes. Because of this I started playing piano again, though not very well. I also listen to classical piano because it somehow calms yet stimulates my mind. When I hear–or feel–Chopin, Debussy or Schubert, I often find that my mind leaves my body. There are moments upon blinking where I realized that I have felt everything yet produced no thoughts. And I am still.

While I don’t meditate, I’m thinking of turning my little patio that I never use into a thought, or feel, area, however you see it. I love being outside but have no yard in an apartment, so it would be nice to have a little area just for me to be in the outdoor air and breathe and write and feel.

And yes, somehow this semester I will find time to finish the book.