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- Элизабет Гилберт
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- Ешь, молись, люби
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When
I
look
back
at
the
four
years
that
elapsed
between
my
marriage
starting
to
fall
apart
and
the
day
I
was
finally
divorced
and
free
,
I
see
a
detailed
chronicle
of
total
pain
.
And
the
moment
when
I
came
to
this
tiny
island
all
by
myself
was
the
very
worst
of
that
entire
dark
journey
.
The
bottom
of
the
pain
and
the
middle
of
it
.
My
unhappy
mind
was
a
battlefield
of
conflicted
demons
.
As
I
made
my
decision
to
spend
ten
days
alone
and
in
silence
in
the
middle
of
exactly
nowhere
,
I
told
all
my
warring
and
confused
parts
the
same
thing
:
"
We
’
re
all
here
together
now
,
guys
,
all
alone
.
And
we
’
re
going
to
have
to
work
out
some
kind
of
deal
for
how
to
get
along
,
or
else
everybody
is
going
to
die
together
,
sooner
or
later
.
"
Which
may
sound
firm
and
confident
,
but
I
must
admit
this
,
as
well
-
that
sailing
over
to
that
quiet
island
all
alone
,
I
was
never
more
terrified
in
my
life
.
I
hadn
’
t
even
brought
any
books
to
read
,
nothing
to
distract
me
.
Just
me
and
my
mind
,
about
to
face
each
other
on
an
empty
field
.
I
remember
that
my
legs
were
visibly
shaking
with
fear
.
Then
I
quoted
to
myself
one
of
my
favorite
lines
ever
from
my
Guru
:
"
Fear
-
who
cares
?
"
and
I
disembarked
alone
.
I
rented
myself
a
little
cabin
on
the
beach
for
a
few
dollars
a
day
and
I
shut
my
mouth
and
vowed
not
to
open
it
again
until
something
inside
me
had
changed
.
Gili
Meno
Island
was
my
ultimate
truth
and
reconciliation
hearing
.
I
had
chosen
the
right
place
to
do
this
-
that
much
was
clear
.
The
island
itself
is
tiny
,
pristine
,
sandy
,
blue
water
,
palm
trees
.
It
’
s
a
perfect
circle
with
a
single
path
that
goes
around
it
,
and
you
can
walk
the
whole
circumference
in
about
an
hour
.
It
’
s
located
almost
exactly
on
the
equator
,
and
so
there
’
s
a
changelessness
about
its
daily
cycles
.
The
sun
comes
up
on
one
side
of
the
island
at
about
6
:
30
in
the
morning
and
goes
down
on
the
other
side
at
around
6
:
30
PM
,
every
day
of
the
year
.
The
place
is
inhabited
by
a
small
handful
of
Muslim
fishermen
and
their
families
.
There
is
no
spot
on
this
island
from
which
you
cannot
hear
the
ocean
.
There
are
no
motorized
vehicles
here
.
Electricity
comes
from
a
generator
,
and
for
only
a
few
hours
in
the
evenings
.
It
’
s
the
quietest
place
I
’
ve
ever
been
.
Every
morning
I
walked
the
circumference
of
the
island
at
sunrise
,
and
walked
it
again
at
sunset
.
The
rest
of
the
time
,
I
just
sat
and
watched
.
Watched
my
thoughts
,
watched
my
emotions
,
watched
the
fishermen
.
The
Yogic
sages
say
that
all
the
pain
of
a
human
life
is
caused
by
words
,
as
is
all
the
joy
.
We
create
words
to
define
our
experience
and
those
words
bring
attendant
emotions
that
jerk
us
around
like
dogs
on
a
leash
.
We
get
seduced
by
our
own
mantras
(
I
’
m
a
failure
…
I
’
m
lonely
…
I
’
m
a
failure
…
I
’
m
lonely
…
)
and
we
become
monuments
to
them
.
To
stop
talking
for
a
while
,
then
,
is
to
attempt
to
strip
away
the
power
of
words
,
to
stop
choking
ourselves
with
words
,
to
liberate
ourselves
from
our
suffocating
mantras
.
It
took
me
a
while
to
drop
into
true
silence
.
Even
after
I
’
d
stopped
talking
,
I
found
that
I
was
still
humming
with
language
.
My
organs
and
muscles
of
speech
-
brain
,
throat
,
chest
,
back
of
the
neck
-
vibrated
with
the
residual
effects
of
talking
long
after
I
’
d
stopped
making
sounds
.
My
head
shimmied
in
a
reverb
of
words
,
the
way
an
indoor
swimming
pool
seems
to
echo
interminably
with
sounds
and
shouts
,
even
after
the
kindergartners
have
left
for
the
day
.
It
took
a
surprisingly
long
time
for
all
this
pulsation
of
speech
to
fall
away
,
for
the
whirling
noises
to
settle
.
Maybe
it
took
about
three
days
.
Then
everything
started
coming
up
.
In
that
state
of
silence
,
there
was
room
now
for
everything
hateful
,
everything
fearful
,
to
run
across
my
empty
mind
.
I
felt
like
a
junkie
in
detox
,
convulsing
with
the
poison
of
what
emerged
.
I
cried
a
lot
.
I
prayed
a
lot
.
It
was
difficult
and
it
was
terrifying
,
but
this
much
I
knew
-
I
never
didn
’
t
want
to
be
there
,
and
I
never
wished
that
anyone
were
there
with
me
.
I
knew
that
I
needed
to
do
this
and
that
I
needed
to
do
it
alone
.
The
only
other
tourists
on
the
island
were
a
handful
of
couples
having
romantic
vacations
.
(
Gili
Meno
is
far
too
pretty
and
far
too
remote
a
place
for
anyone
but
a
crazy
person
to
come
visit
solo
.
)
I
watched
these
couples
and
felt
some
envy
for
their
romances
,
but
knew
,
"
This
is
not
your
time
for
companionship
,
Liz
.
You
have
a
different
task
here
.
"
I
kept
away
from
everyone
.
People
on
the
island
left
me
alone
.
I
think
I
threw
off
a
spooky
vibe
.
I
had
not
been
well
all
year
.
You
can
’
t
lose
that
much
sleep
and
that
much
weight
and
cry
so
hard
for
so
long
without
starting
to
look
like
a
psychotic
.
So
nobody
talked
to
me
.
