what's the word

In the book Eat Pray Love, Elizabeth says to her Italian friends that she doesn’t know if she could ever really live in Rome because she doesn’t feel like it’s her place. Her Italian friend said maybe they have different words. He continues to explain his theory that every city has a word, a word that encapsulates the entire meaning of the city and it’s existence. Every person also has a word. If your word the and the city’s word don’t go together, you don’t belong there. This sent my mind into a state of spinning and whirling that I had to stop and put the book down. I’ve been thinking a lot lately, go figure, about where I’m supposed to be. I absolutely love Natchez. Beginning in 9th grade, I counted down the days I would be able to escape. But things change and people change. Jax has grounded me, making me want to stay near my family so they can see him change from day to day. He has made me appreciate simplicity as opposed to my previous appreciation of cities that never sleep. Don’t get me wrong, I still have a deep love connection to New York City and other metropolises I haven’t had the opportunity to see yet (but I will). But for now, in this moment, I am happy where I am. In a slow, simple town with my family nearby. Because at this point in my life, that is all that matters to me.

But anyways, I began thinking about different places and what their words might be so I can try and figure out where my next move should be. And that was fun. Until I realized I have no clue what my word is. Therefore I can’t figure out what town I belong to because I don’t know what I belong to. I can think of words I would like to be. But there’s no point in being delusional or in denial when it comes to figuring out your word.

There are a few I think could work.

Unsatisfied- I’m always unsatisfied, wanting more. There are so many things and places I want to see. So many cultures I want to discover and experience. And until I get to do those things, I am unsatisfied. I wouldn’t say I’m stuck. Well maybe I am a little. But I’m not miserably stuck. I’m happy being stuck for a little bit because I love seeing my parents interact with my son. I love walking down the simple streets of downtown and seeing the same people every day. But I don’t want this forever.

Restless- Oh how I am restless. Physically and mentally. Like I’ve said before, I’m always doing something, going somewhere. I am on the road 40 percent of my life, roughly, but only because I love it. I do. I love it. And if I’m not physically moving and going, my mind is doing it for me. Always thinking, always coming up with new ideas and then driving myself crazy trying to figure out how to make that idea come to life until a couple days or a couple hours later when I get a new idea and the process repeats itself. It’s almost manic, but that’s just how I work. I’ve read some biographies about artists, poets, writers, musicians, and even renaissance men and strangely found myself less ‘odd’ and able to relate. Not saying I’m a renaissance man or woman or whatever, but some people are just… weird. Misfits I guess. And I’m a weirdo.

Searching- This pretty much explains itself. I am searching, always. For new strangers to befriend, for new experiences to later become memories, for knowledge about anything and everything, for answers about anything and everything. I was searching subconsciously for answers as to whether real love exists and whether or not marriages really can work and if I could ever actually see myself with someone to grow old with. But thanks to that really cool God who I can almost hear saying ‘I told you so’ with a sarcastic smile on His face, I have figured out those answers. But still, I have plenty of other things I am searching for.

I thought I would like for my word to be ‘content’. But then I thought about it, and I don’t want to be content. Because then I wouldn’t have the urge for more. And I like having the urge for more. I feel I can always see more, learn more. But I should listen more in order for a lot of things to fall into place. I’m a great listener when it comes to other people. But I’m horrible when it comes to hearing things about myself. I don’t want to hear it. Leave me alone. Insert (flaw) on my forehead here. I’m working on it.

But for now, my mind races yet again trying to figure out my damn word. I hope I like it.

eat, pray, sigh, but then love

If you follow my writings, you are familiar with a ‘character’ who is not so much a character, but someone who is very real and very present in my life. But I refer to her here as Dr. Bailey (in association with my lame obsession of Grey’s Anatomy). For some reason, this person can get to me and get in my head more than anyone else in my life. When she speaks, I listen. When she points out something I should work on, I reflect. When she smiles, my heart smiles. This woman is my real life guardian angel and I am thankful every single day that I have someone like that because I’d most likely be a hot mess without her getting my ass back in line.

So Dr. Bailey gave me a book to read a few days ago. It is called ‘Eat Pray Love’ by Elizabeth Gilbert. A best seller and soon-to-be movie with the fantastic Julia Roberts. I actually checked this book out from the Hattiesburg Public Library a while back. My love for libraries equalizes that of coffee shops. There is something about them, a gathering place of some sort full of people seeking to learn. I like those types of people. Anyways, Jax arrived a couple days later. Needless to say, I didn’t read the book. I was too busy trying to figure out how to put a diaper on a baby.

I started reading the book a couple of days ago, and it is so intense. It’s not a story so much as it is an invitation to learn some of the deepest lessons you will ever come across and then the challenge or dare to reflect upon yourself and do something about everything that needs something done.

I thoroughly enjoyed the first third of the book because it describes her decision to drop everything and go live in Italy. She just roams the city, meets interesting people, eats a lot, and learns the Italian language. And I’m thinking, ‘all right, this is my type of chick. I need to buy a plane ticket right now’.

Then comes the next part. The part about devotion and discipline. She goes to India to live in an Ashram. It is a rigorous process that challenges the mind, body, and soul. Days start at 3am and there are hours and hours a day spent meditating. Ummm… excuse my yawning here. Sitting there in complete stillness and silence for HOURS? Crank up the radio please.

So this is the part I’m stuck on and I don’t care much for. Take me back to Rome, Ms. Gilbert. What happened to the pizza and the museums and the bus stations? Get me out of this chapter. So I’m reading through, just kind of waiting for the next country she goes to so I can get some excitement. But then I come upon some parts of the book Dr. Bailey has taken the time to underline with a black pen. Everytime I get a book from her, I focus on the underlined parts because if it’s that important for her to do, it’s got to be something good. Something that affected her so much she had to grab the pen. These are the parts I focus on like a stray dog staring at a ribeye.

The first thing underlined is “you cannot see your reflection in running water, only in still water”. Dammit, Dr. Bailey. This is something she has said to me over and over, in different words. She always gets on to me telling me to slow down. I am always moving, always doing something. And if I am sitting still, my mind is doing all the running. I love going to the bluff to sit and think. You would think that would be considering sitting still. But I go there to think. And when I think, it’s like a marathon of thoughts about the past, the future, Jax, my photography, all racing across my brain as if the winning prize were a million and one dollars. I never just… sit in stillness.

I take that back. There are times I do. But it’s always when I’m listening to live music. I will close my eyes, so I can listen with all of myself. If my eyes are open I am thinking not only about the music, but also about the way the musician’s fingers move across the guitar or the way the lighting makes the sweat on their face glisten. But when I close my eyes, all I can do is hear. And the music fills up my whole being. That’s the only time I sit still.

I’m getting off subject. There are several more things underlined in this section of the book. The book is set into 3 sections. Her time in Rome, her time in India at the Ashram, and her time in Indonesia. Italy was the fun part. India is the grueling but necessary part of her journey full of self-reflection followed by the process of reacting to the reflection And I’m so tired of India. But I start to think about it in the bigger picture. And not to be narcissistic, but I feel like she underlined the things she underlined not just for her, but for me. I noticed she didn’t underline anything in the Italy section. She didn’t even pick up her pen until India. Why? Because she knows me oh too well. She knows I don’t need any lessons when it comes to spontaneous traveling and appreciating culture through meeting complete strangers. That is embedded in me, which can at times be a flaw. No, she broke out that black ink when it came to India because these are the things she’s been trying to get through my thick and stubborn skull.

This book is intense. And I don’t like what it is doing to me. Because I am stubborn and would prefer that Elizabeth Gilbert ended the book after the first section so I can just continue enjoying who I am without the devotion and discipline crap, I mean lessons. But I am going to keep reading. I don’t know what the third section is about, I’m really hoping it won’t be like the second one because I’m tired of the word meditate. But I have a feeling I won’t see the words pizza or random roadtrip for the rest of the book.

I’m frustrated with Dr. Bailey for giving me this book in the first place, because she knew it would knock me on my restless ass. I’m frustrated with Elizabeth Gilbert for challenging me through every typed word. But I can’t help but smile with deep appreciation at the same time.