Ешь, молись, люби

Chapter 69

           Inthefigurativesense,thisisaborderthatisalwaysmoving-asyouadvanceforwardinyourstudiesandrealizations,thatmysteriousforestoftheunknownalwaysstaysafewfeetaheadofyou,soyouhavetotravellightinordertokeepfollowingit.Youhavetostaymobile,movable,supple.Slippery,even.Whichisfunny,becausejustthedaybefore,myfriendthepoet/plumberfromNewZealandhadlefttheAshram,andonhiswayoutthedoor,he’dhandedmeafriendlylittlegood-byepoemaboutmyjourney.Irememberedthisverse:

           Elizabeth,betwixtandbetween

           ItalianphrasesandBalidreams,

           Elizabeth,betweenandbetwixt,

           Sometimesasslipperyasafish…

           I’vespentsomuchtimetheselastyearswonderingwhatI’msupposedtobe.Awife?Amother?Alover?Acelibate?AnItalian?Aglutton?Atraveler?Anartist?AYogi?ButI’mnotanyofthesethings,atleastnotcompletely.AndI’mnotCrazyAuntLiz,either.I’mjustaslipperyantevasin-betwixtandbetween-astudentontheever-shiftingbordernearthewonderful,scaryforestofthenew.

           

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