Thursday, May 31, 2012

Eat. Travel. Cry.

When the movie, Eat Pray Love, came out, I couldn't wait to see it. I knew none of my friends would see it with me, so I went by myself. Since I love going to the movies by myself, I quickly embraced it. My movie, my time, my terms. It's time to myself.

This movie was different. Anybody that truly knows me knows that I hate love stories and the like. I hate the kind of movies that involve romance and unrealistic expections about what love is supposed to be about. Hollywood's version. But something about this movie intrigued me. I hadn't read the book, so the previews alone are what drew me in. I had heard a great deal about the book and how inspiring it was, especially since it was based off a true story, so I couldn't wait to see it.

For the most part, I knew the basic background of the book and the movie, but still didn't have an idea overall what it was about. 

Once it came out, I immediately went online and purchased my ticket. I was ready to go! Apart of me was scared because I knew once I'd see it, there was the possibility that I may identify with the main character, Elizabeth Gilbert.

I didn't care. Something about this movie piqued my interest.

As I sat alone in the movie theater, after the first 30 minutes or so, I had a revelation—up there on the screen, was me! It seemed everything about that character was me. At that time in my marriage, I was unsure, I was confused. I love my husband dearly, but during that down time in my life, I was completely lost—both in my mind and my heart. After watching the pain that Elizabeth Gilbert had endured must have been beyond agonizing and disconcerting. She knew right then and there, that in order to go forward and be happy with her life, she had to make a rash decision.

To end her marriage and ask for a divorce.

I don't think I necessarily wanted a divorce, but I knew one thing, I needed to be alone. Even though my husband was my rock throughout my ordeal, I still wanted to experience the solitude that she was experiencing.

Per my post, The Escape Artist, I always dreamed about traveling and my envious feeling as I continued to watch the movie only increased my desire to travel, see the magical places that she was able to pursue while she had the advantage of gallivanting throughout these countries.

Except for one problem, I had zero money—unlike the fortunate position she was in, I am nowhere near the magnitude of her writing skills, so that idea was out.

About three years ago, my mother gave me her 3 carat pear shaped diamond ring. It was something she always wanted to pass down to me, and one day I will pass down to my daughter. Once I received it, I knew I needed to have it insured immediately. Since her appraisal was outdated from 1976, I went to my local jeweler whom I have used for years and trusted a great deal for an update. It was appraised at $11,000. Not as much as I thought, but a substancial amount nevertheless.

While I was experiencing these feelings of escape, I thought about selling my mother's ring—the "rock" as I've always called it. But quickly realized this would have impacted me for many years ahead and would have been a colossal mistake.

As I reminisce about that time, I am so glad I didn't give in and sell it. I know now I was at least able to think rationally about that huge step I would have made, and ended up satisfied with my decision not to sell it. I look at my mother's ring everyday and I'm so thankful I didn't succumb to this urge. This ring will someday be passed down to my daughter, and her daughter and so forth. An heirloom that will hopefully remain in my family for decades, if not centuries, ahead.

By the end of the movie, I wanted what she had so badly. Not the love part, but the initial escape, the travel, and of course, the eating. I craved it. It's a reminder of how I was feeling and what I was desiring in my life at that time. It was a tough point, a low in my life and knew something needed to change.

Unfortunately, I was never able to make those changes. Maybe all is well. I don't know. I do know this, as I move forward with my medications, I realize that I am better. I am getting better. Like a diabetic, I know that I will always have to continue with my medication. I never want to experience that horrible time in my life. I can only move forward and learn from it.

Regardless, even today as my crying has diminished completely, I look back and someday dream that we will have the opportunity to travel—even if it's somewhere as simple as Mexico. I'll be happy.

I have to have faith that I will have that lucky chance to do so. The means which will allow to escape, even if I am with my family.

I'm not a religious person, nor have I ever been, but I will pray, pray that I will be in the position to travel and see the world!

Pop Art of Buddha – Artist, me – 2009

1 comment:

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