Jane sent me this book. During most of the whiney phone conversations I’ve had with her since, she’s asked if I’ve read it. All my griefs that I regularly share with her were covered by the book. She was correct in recommending it to me. It was good for me. A woman I work with who lived in Bali for many years put me off it, as she said the Indonesia section was inaccurate. Having completed reading, I don’t care. I enjoyed it. I don’t know any better.
I liked it because the author expresses so many emotions I’ve had and probably many people have. Her fixations with past loves in particular were comforting as sometimes that anguish makes me feel so immature and out of control. This part was in the Pray part (which was deceiving cause it’s clearly a Love part):
“I met an old lady once, almost one hundred years old, and she told me, “There are only two questions that human beings have ever fought over, all through history. How much do you love me? And Who’s in charge?” Everything else is somehow manageable. But these two questions of love and control undo us all, trip us up and cause war, grief and suffering.”(p165)
The author reflects also that people in really desperate situations are most anguished about personal relationships. That’s always bothered me about myself. So perhaps I’m not so weird! Another good relationship part:
“I have a history of making decisions very quickly about men. I have always fallen in love fast and without measuring risks. I have a tendency not only to see the best in everyone, but to assume that everyone is emotionally capable of reaching his highest potential. I have fallen in love more times than I care to count with the highest potential of a man, rather than with the man himself, and then I have hung on to the relationship for a long time (sometimes far too long) wating for the man to ascend to his own greatness. Many times in romance I have been a victim of my own optimism.” p298-299
I remember walking with a friend once after finishing a dodgy relationship and saying I have to stop seeing men like I see homes and loving the potential I see, rather than what’s really before me.
What I find frustrating about the book though, is there is no logical way for me to find the little peices that I wanted to share. It’s order is very organised from the authors point of view as she explains in her introduction. Yet, to go back and find parts you remember in it is difficult. It’s not as it seems. It’s a journey and there is no going back as far as I can see.
Naturally I loved the Food part. Italy is certainly one place I hope to eat my way through in the impending child free future. I remember when my daughter returned from there she was full of praise for the food and I spent a little while trying to find cheeses and things she’d spoken so highly of. I gave up after several dissappointed ‘It isn’t the same’ meals. I thought I was going to lose her to that country. She told me honestly as much as she loved me, she didn’t want to come home.
Overall, whilst a little decadent, it was a pleasure seeking journey and I enjoyed it all. There are plenty of lovely things in this book. Even my friend from work, who was dissappointed with the Indonesian part, said she’d enjoyed the first two sections.
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is not a rehash of the blog, which I found surprising. It clearly has the stamp of sound, logical thinking that the blog has, but the information is organised in a way that can make a more coherent journey.
or just as ineffectively beat myself up for all the recollections of my own shortcomings. I want to realign with that intention and keep at it, without becoming disheartened or cynical. Marcellin Champagnat, the founder of the Marist brothers wrote that you must love children to do this work, and I do. That is why I am happy working in a Marist school and feel it is aligned to who I am.
