My mom's sent me a book called "Eat, Pray, Love" by Elizabeth Gilbert.
They sent it to me in part because much of it could have been written by me. Her story is similiar to mine, and she and I have much in common.
Excpet for one thing - she is searching for peace and freedom. I am at a point in this book where she is in an Ashram in India, trying to meditate her way to inner peace.... this subject has come up for me so often these days, it seems to be the thing everyone is looking for. Peace and Freedom.
I know that I should want these things... but when I poke about, I find no longing for this. It doesn't resonate with me. One answer to this is "ah, that's your ego, trying to stay in control" - but observationally? Even those who seem to have achieved or to be actively striving in this direction have a healthy dose of ego and quite as much arrogance as I... "Ah, I am striving for peace and enlightenment" is often uttered with a smugness and condescesion that makes me flush with shame and self loathing.
So - if I do not long for peace and freedom, what is it I am after?
Logos and Devotion. I want meaning, and I want to belong to something far greater than myself. If I find these things, I think maybe peace and freedom come with the package, but I am not sure.....
I have expereinced inner peace on occasion, and its very nice. But it is not a solid state. And Freedom? I think I have spiritiual and psychological agoraphobia - because the word itself, if I dwell on it too long - causes a sensation of near panic.
I live in a state of freedom. I am absoultely free, my obligations are a matter of choice. If I choose to accept the consequences, I can easily neglect my commitments and obligations.
My world is too wide, too flat, with too few borders and too much space. Freedom seems to me another kind of prison - a place of no belonging, a desert too wide to cross alone.
It is not that I wish confinement (ok, on the occasional Saturday night, perhaps....) - but I want the bindings of life, of family, of freindship, of duty, of purpose. We are born in a state of freedom, at least we educated westerners... but without the ties that bind us, where do we find purpose, service, and meaning?
Maybe I have this all wrong. It could be my ego speaking, my narcissism, my inner puella who refuses to grow up. But, maybe I have it right. However, like the author of my book - I am struggling just as hard with finding meaning as she is finding peace.
