I love when movies make sense, in my crazy screwed up way of making sense.
Eat, Pray, Love.
Often I feel like a square peg in a round hole. Why does having normal and traditional appeal to me only 10% of the time? I entertain the thought of being married, think it sounds nice the first few minutes, ponder it further to ... forever? It is as if a candle snuffer wants to suffocate my flame. The longer I am single the quicker the concrete dries in my thought process.
Julia Roberts in Eat, Pray, Love is a woman who openly admits that she actively participated in the creation of her traditional married life, yet trying to live in that world felt as if it was a certain death when she began to feel nothing every day, not even her own pulse.
To know pleasure, to find again her appetite for life, she sets out on a journey she calls the "physics of the quest" which is if you are brave enough to leave behind the familiar ... to set out in a truth seeking journey to find balance in life.
The movie, the dialogue, the quotes, the very honest storyline of so many who desperately need to feel their own heartbeat again; yet stay in a world they created because they are afraid to be destroyed if they didn't.
Julia shares ...
“There's a wonderful old Italian joke about a poor man who goes to church every day and prays before the statue of a great saint, begging, "Dear saint-please, please, please...give me the grace to win the lottery." This lament goes on for months. Finally the exasperated statue comes to life, looks down at the begging man and says in weary disgust, "My son-please, please, please...buy a ticket."
- Eat, Pray, Love
So many people are unhappy and want more for their lives, yet they do nothing.
In every good Hollywood movie, her story ends in Bali when the medicine man, Ketut, teaches her to "follow her heart and not her head" and that, "to lose balance sometimes for love is part of living balanced life." Of course she finds love in the end, it's Hollywood.
It is her physics of the quest, her journey that I applaud.
