My first "train book" I brought with me was Eat, Pray, Love - a gift from my awesome sister Anna. In case you haven't heard of it - which is doubtful - it's a an auto-biographical account of a woman's journey through Italy, India, and Bali following a messy divorce.
I began the novel expecting to relate the most with Elizabeth Gilbert's gluttonous travels through Italy, but it's been Part II, about the Ashram in India, that has really hit me profoundly. In fact, I haven't been this moved by a book since I read Revolutionary Road (which prompted me to plan this trip in the first place.)
In spite of 4 months of pasta and wine, Elizabeth comes to the Ashram with so much baggage and anxiety. She says, "My hyper-sensitive awareness of time's speed led me to push myself to experience life at a maximum pace. Hence, all the traveling, all the romances, all the ambition, all the pasta." I so related to this, and to her need to be able to understand existence, from an intellectual level and emotional level, so she could come to terms with it.
Elizabeth has much more baggage than me - a good portion of the novel is about letting it go - and I found myself thinking about things that I have a hard time letting go of, that I keep buried until moments of great stress bring it all out. Elizabeth, like myself, wants to control her surroundings, and has so many anxious thoughts about what might happen, or judgmental thoughts about past mistakes. At one point, someone tells her:
"You need to learn how to select your thoughts just the same way you select what clothes you're going to wear every day. This is a power you can cultivate. If you want to control things in your life so bad, work on your mind. If you can't master your thinking, you're in deep trouble forever."
I was reading this line just as we were crossing the Chunnel today on the Eurostar. I am somewhat claustrophobic, and whenever I think of this particular trip, my mind conjours up an image of water pouring in from all sides as the tunnel collapses. I don't know why I do this. It's like - if I worry about something enough, then maybe it won't happen. But as I felt a panicky feeling, I told myself, "This will be a great ride and you will be off on the other side soon, exploring Belgium." I shortened this little mantra until I was just saying, "This will be peaceful." And of course, we made it through, and here I am. Suffice to say, monitoring my own thoughts is something I could benefit from more often and it was such great timing to be reading that advice.
I don't know what else to say - there is so much more to be said - so I will just say that I am loving the read so far, and that I can already tell the movie will not do the profound written insights justice at all.