A Different Perspective

I almost remained silent, as I have not finished the book. But the last post fired me up. No, I have not finished the book (I'm close), but I will. I am deeply affected by it and have had trouble tearing myself away from it, but family obligations have made it impossible to sit down for an extended period of time.

I too hate violence. I would much prefer a diplomatic approach to any sort of conflict. But that is not reality. My perspective is a bit different because my husband is a police officer. They too are trained in violence. But, I am very grateful they are. We live in a violent world, and the stories I hear often rock me to the core. Although I believe the world is full of goodness and amazing people, there is much evil. Horrible people walk the streets daily; our soldiers/military personnel/officers exist because of that.

My husband is trained to kill. And I am glad. It helps me sleep at night knowing that there is one more competent "good guy" on the street to help balance things out. He comes home bloody and bruised after combat training. I hate seeing him that way, but I am humbled. He is willing to risk his life to ensure we remain safe. He is willing to give up a 9-5 desk job with a hefty salary, kiss his family goodnight and head out to keep our community safe from harm. Each night he risks his safety without the cover of some magic hero cape; he has no super powers. He must rely on his training. He must rely on that grueling, innocence breaking training.

It isn't pretty. It isn't pleasant. It certainly isn't enjoyable to read about. But it is necessary. My husband is a good cop. He is thorough. He is hard working. He is honest. He does everything in his power to avoid violence. He does not want to pull his weapon. He does not want to be a killing machine. But our world does not allow for anything different. Sadly, there is no Utopia. And just as I must watch him drive into the darkness each night, many fathers, mothers, wives, must send their sons and husbands off to fight a war we would rather not be fighting.

I understand this book was a hard read. I get that. I also respect the decision to put it down. But please know that there is much more than arrogance and testosterone behind the uniform. There is beauty in bravery. There is beauty in courage. And there is beauty in understanding.

A love/hate relationship

It would not have been fitting, or an accurate portrayal of my personality, had I not procrastinated penning this post. I had read, and book clubbed, Eat, Pray, Love awhile ago, and had such mixed reactions to the book that I was eager to revisit it. Sadly, the outcome of a second run was quite similar to the first.

I loved this book and I despised this book. I find myself hesitant to recommend it, yet eager to get others input. I felt, as I dove in both times, that I had been taken on a roller coaster ride. One page had me on a highlighting frenzy, in an effort to remember some of the most masterfully crafted quotes, while the next had me shaking my fist at her narcissistic ways.

If we take it from the top, we find her crumbled in a heap on her bathroom floor, reeling from the realization that, because of her hesitation to take the next "logical" step in a marriage, hers was over. Perhaps it was her reluctance to divulge details of her failing marriage, but I felt very little pity for her. I know the entire basis for the book hinges on her unhappiness with her current All-American life. But knowing how blessed she was in so many aspects of her life leads me to question why I should feel sorry for her plight when there are millions struggling through much more drastic circumstances. I am quite aware that makes me heartless, but I had trouble buying into the whole whoa is me scenario. And yet, she has the ability to write in such a manner that almost forces you to keep reading, joining her on a journey you may not even support.

The journey itself often felt contrived. Knowing that each step had been paid for with an advance, banking on the lessons learned from her travels, I often struggled with whether or not her experiences were authentic. Don't get me wrong, I do not question that she was unhappy and therefore took this journey to find herself. I just wonder if she would have arrived at the same destination spiritually, physically and mentally if she was forced to navigate through her hardships like the Average Joe, and not with the security of a book advance paving the way.

Now onto Italy, my favorite section by far. There is something to be said about indulging, and as she literally ate her way through the country, I was not only intrigued but also envious. She lived without the fear of consequence (not even the 23 pounds gained made her pause), and the pleasure achieved because of it is something to be sought after.

In marked contrast, India was by far my least favorite section. Not only did I find the writing itself lacking her usual page turner style, but her experiences troubled me. I am open to all religious views. I may have my own, but I am always curious and eager to learn and explore other religions. So it was not the focus on Eastern religions that gave me pause, but rather her insistence on forcing the experience on herself, regardless of the price. This was a section that I felt was less of a personal struggle and more of an experience to have that would eventually find its way to her pages.

Although it differs from mine, I had no problem with her definition of God or even her desire to find her spirituality. And I do not think that being religious is always easy or effortless, but I do not feel it should be a struggle of that magnitude. It seemed almost counterproductive to me and I had to set the book down for a few days to get through it.

And I guess, in the same way Gilbert was attempting to strike a balance between the "Eat" and the "Pray" discovered in the first 2 sections, I felt equal part love and equal part hate for the last section. I loved her character descriptions and the relationships built in Bali, but I felt the relationship with Felipe went against all she had been preaching throughout the book. And to know she went on to marry him further cemented that hypocrisy.

With that said, I feel Gilbert is a gifted story teller. She weaves her encounters into the book in such a way that I felt connected to the people she met and befriended, and wanted to know what became of them. And overall, I felt it was more her obviously brilliant writing ability and less her self-discovery and insight, that led me to enjoy this book. But it is probably not a book I will read again, because I do not believe it will uphold the 3rd-times-a-charm theory.