Wednesday, July 02, 2008
What I Did on Pasig Day
I started reading Elizabeth Gilbert's Eat Pray Love this morning and as of press time, I'm three-fourths done. And you know that means it's a compelling peace of literature.
Eat Pray Love is Gilbert's memoir of her self-discovery pilgrimage to Italy, India and Indonesia, following a failed marriage and a tumultuous on and off love affair thereafter. Her writing style is humorous and candid - even as she writes about depression and divorce -it's like reading the personal travel journal of a good friend. Camille, my officemate, I found out has a copy but has yet to go beyond the first few pages. Her reason being that she couldn't quite relate to it yet.
I could. Although I'm not a thirtysomething writer who is picking up the pieces of a shattered charmed life - I share Gilbert's desire to attain self-actualization and inner peace. Not that I'm in some kind of existential crisis. But lately, I've been having these bouts of restlessness in the midst of a steady and comfortable life. There's a nagging voice that keeps saying, "This isn't all there is to life. It's a bigger world out there."
Perhaps this is why I love going to the beach and I've started to love climbing mountains and recently decided to take up openwater diving. In the great outdoors, you are in touch with the majesty of creation and for a moment the world of deadlines and quotas and performance appraisals and bundy clocks melts away. All there is is the glimmer of the setting sun on the waves gently nudging the sand. The coolness of an evening breeze on the summit. The tranquility of the sea and its creatures from beneath. And you feel so ALIVE.
Then you come back feeling refreshed, with a renewed vigor to face the world of deadlines and bundy clocks. This keeps you going for a while until the routine depletes you again. Not to worry. There's always the next adventure.