dolce far niente

When I was in India, there was this book that I saw so many Western travelers reading. I suppose, given the nature of said book, India was a great place to eat, pray, and love.

I read Miss Gilbert’s book. Well, at least half of it. I get distracted easily.

I also watched the movie, and recently watched it again.
I’m a sucker for a writer’s story. And specifically, one who was coming off a messy divorce.

I find myself in a lot of those bits and pieces. I also see myself on both sides of the story.

There was the anger. His anger, in particular, when telling her that she didn’t give him a chance to change.
There was her prayer to God on the cold bathroom floor.

My belly started to hurt.
Especially at his anger.
“I made vows! I wanted this! You quit! You quit! You quit!”
All over my body, I felt that confusion, and brokenness.
You always remember how that broken heart feels. It sits on your chest like a lead vest.

The other part of me gets why she wanted out. A lot.
Enough to where she didn’t care what she lost. She just wanted out. She wanted…needed something different.
And with all my heart, I do see it.

A big part of me wanted what she got to do. Travel, get fat in Italy, pray to God in an Ashram, and well, find some love.


I get ahead of myself, quite often. I get an idea stuck in my head and at times, I am a stubborn fool. I have my ways, and I’d like for everything to follow in those lines, one after the other. “Yes, you go there, and then this and that. Perfect. Thank you.”

And then there’s reality, where maybe 10-15% of the time, you get what you ask for. Even then, it’s never as polished as it is in your head.

But then I started to reflect on this time. I’ve been given such a luxury, to plant myself firmly and to rest and eat and rekindle. Your heart is a muscle, and when it goes through a lot, you gotta give that thing some time to straighten out. Let it rest while you catch up on TV or books or that trip you’ve been wanting to make to the coast.

Give yourself an abundant amount of grace.

Give yourself time.

loads of time.

Build a house out of lincoln logs and go fishing for an afternoon.

Things won’t always get put back together. You will break it, and it will never fit back just right.
I think this is a hard truth. Those things you used to put yourself into, are no longer able to hold you.

I like the idea of the permeable membrane. I’d like to say I am just that. I dissolve into people, and when I do, I will give you everything. And when it’s over, I am wandering about until I can dissolve into another, or another thing. There’s a lot of good in that. I suppose I’d like to work on some balance, for the in between times.

Things are just starting to feel okay.

Okay that I’m alone. Okay that I’ll be living by myself. Okay that my narrative has changed.

There are chapters ahead I hope I pay attention to. Because really, they’re all important. The good ones and the bad.

So while I run the risk of processing Eat, Pray, Love in the same way thousands of others have, I must say that our stories take turns. God becomes the love inside of you. Food becomes romance.
And love,

love is always there,
calling you back to where you belong.



7 responses to “dolce far niente”

  1. If you like “Eat Pray Love” I am sure you will enjoy Mandy Hales – Blog or Book. It was a kind of eye opener for me. Hopefully, it is useful for you too. Her website is:

  2. I really enjoy your writing style and can totally relate to what you’re going through right now, so it’s therapeutic reading for me. Best to you!

  3. I know these feelings all too well. Dating again, after having been in a very emotionally intimate and connected relationship feels very cold.
    Funny, I was also distracted about half way through Eat Pray Love. The beginning was riveting, though. At least for me.
    Fortunately for me, my boyfriend was gone two of the four years of our relationship. I realize he taught me how to live without him. I say fortunate, only because breakups are so painful. Missing my best friend’s day to day physical presence became my norm.

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