in the tower

"Eat... Pray... Love", by Elizabeth Gilbert. I picked it up at the library a few weeks ago intially because of the title - the subject matter of food, travel and spiritual discovery encapsulates key passions. If I didn't like it, I would just return it and not bother finishing. At first, it seemed potentially trite, bordering on cheesy throughout. But Gilbert's frank, simple honesty would suddenly pierce through just as I was starting to lose interest. I speedily finished it on our trip to the South, finding it speaking rather specifically to me at moments on the path of renewal, confirmation and release I am walking.

Oddly enough, without ever having discussed the book with her, I find Kristy is reading it, too. A 'conicidence' of kindreds. As she and I had a long dinner at my favorite Incanto on Thursday, we discussed the themes of surging freedom in our lives that are both frightening in their borderless horizons and thrilling in their possibility. Fear of what 'they' will think is still paramount. Rejection of past paradigms is a real concern. Staying 'true' while no longer holding on to worry about what it looks like to anyone but God is the hope. Letting go of the structure that enslaves while standing on its platform to build fresh, wildly varied expression is the final frontier. If only openness wasn't condemned, this territory might not be dreaded to such an extent. I am fearing it less and less.

Wines, rich grains and cheeses, silky panna cotta stimulated the Incanto outpouring. As Gilbert was in the tower in India all night until she finally released her loss, her pain, her forgiveness, her vulnerability, so I have known enclosed, protective spaces meant to nurture me but actually keeping me from my heart's deepest desire and constant prayer: freedom. In the tower I face release. Soon ready to come down. Gilbert's book only hints at but represents a small piece of the freedom that comes from forgiveness and acceptance of not only all... but of yourself.