But I was reading the book "Eat, Pray, Love" by Elizabeth Gilbert (which I am enjoying immensely and hence not doing the grading I really should be doing), and I was at the end of the "Eat" section. The author is traveling to Italy, where she stays in Rome for 4 months, learning Italian and beginning to heal her depression. There are many memorable passages, but the section ends with this:
It was in a bathtub back in New York, reading Italian words aloud from a dictionary, that I first started mending my soul. My life had gone to bits and I was so unrecognizable to myself that I probably couldn't have picked me out of a police lineup. But I felt a glimmer of happiness when I started studying Italian, and when you sense a faint potentiality for happiness after such dark times you must grab onto the ankles of that happiness and not let go until it drags you face-first out of the dirt- this is not selfishness, but obligation. You were given life; it is your duty (and also your entitlement as a human being) to find something beautiful within life, no matter how slight.
I came to Italy pinched and thin. I did not know yet what I deserved. I still maybe don't fully know what I deserve. But I do know that I have collected myself of late- through the enjoyment of harmless pleasures- into somebody much more intact. The easiest, most fundamentally human way to say it is thatI have put on weight.I exist more now than I did four months ago. I will leave Italy noticeably bigger than when I arrived here. And I will leave with the hope that the expansion of one person- the magnification of one life- is indeed an act of worth in this world. Even if that life, just this one time, happens to be nobody's but my own.
But I was reading the book "Eat, Pray, Love" by Elizabeth Gilbert (which I am enjoying immensely and hence not doing the grading I really should be doing), and I was at the end of the "Eat" section. The author is traveling to Italy, where she stays in Rome for 4 months, learning Italian and beginning to heal her depression. There are many memorable passages, but the section ends with this:
It was in a bathtub back in New York, reading Italian words aloud from a dictionary, that I first started mending my soul. My life had gone to bits and I was so unrecognizable to myself that I probably couldn't have picked me out of a police lineup. But I felt a glimmer of happiness when I started studying Italian, and when you sense a faint potentiality for happiness after such dark times you must grab onto the ankles of that happiness and not let go until it drags you face-first out of the dirt- this is not selfishness, but obligation. You were given life; it is your duty (and also your entitlement as a human being) to find something beautiful within life, no matter how slight.
I came to Italy pinched and thin. I did not know yet what I deserved. I still maybe don't fully know what I deserve. But I do know that I have collected myself of late- through the enjoyment of harmless pleasures- into somebody much more intact. The easiest, most fundamentally human way to say it is that I have put on weight. I exist more now than I did four months ago. I will leave Italy noticeably bigger than when I arrived here. And I will leave with the hope that the expansion of one person- the magnification of one life- is indeed an act of worth in this world. Even if that life, just this one time, happens to be nobody's but my own.
All of the bold parts are my emphasis.
So go read this book. You'll love it.