Me, Liz Gilbert, and Pinkie friend Lynn Stasior
Tonight, I had the pleasure to breathe the same air as Elizabeth Gilbert, who I’ll fondly call Liz, now that we’re buds after all (at least that’s how all of us sitting in the Marin Center felt tonight). I don’t know about you Pinkies, but when I read Liz Gilbert’s memoir Eat, Pray, Love, I felt like Liz was my twin separated at birth, as if her book spoke the truths that had been muddling my mind, which I had been thus far unable to articulate. I ate up everything I could on her website, gobbling up little morsels of her to feed my soul. I couldn’t wait for her next book. I added to my bucket list, “Take a yoga class with Liz Gilbert.” (Does tonight count?)
The First Time, the Universe Led Me Down Another Road
I meant to see Liz last year when she and Anne Lamott were having a live conversation in Marin, but alas, it conflicted with the fated trip to Esalen that changed my life. I took it as a Sign from the Universe that I just wasn’t meant to see Liz Gilbert, whose Eat, Pray, Love I had just devoured at the time. What I didn’t realize was that, without really meaning to, I was about to start walking a path not dissimilar to hers. Not to suggest that I ate my way through Italy, prayed in India, or found balance in Bali. But my spiritual path, which had begun a couple years earlier, was about to get really interesting.
Now, a year and a half later, my friend Lynn invited me to join her for An Evening With Elizabeth Gilbert. Maybe the Universe wanted me to go this time. I said yes, and boy, am I glad I did.
What’s Liz Like?
Liz is as unassuming, funny, wise, and self-deprecating, as you might imagine. She told a story about the time she was flying from Santa Barbara to Los Angeles to give a big talk, and she arrived three hours early for the flight but somehow missed her plane while sitting right at the gate, thinking about Nerf guns. (I would SO do something like that! Details have never been my strong suit. But isn’t that why we all love Liz, because she brings out the humanity in us all and makes us feel less alone?)
She said things like, “If you’re like me, you see life not so much as a journey, but more like a series of final exams that add up to your final grade. And if you miss you the flight that’s supposed to take you to that big event, then you’ve really fucked up. I tried to think of a way to excuse it, like a petulant child would, but you ultimately realize that there’s no way out but to own it.” (Haven’t we ALL been there?) Turns out Liz had to grovel to those in charge of the event, run for a later flight, beg someone to drive 150 MPH to drop her off, and ended up being a mere half hour late. And oh yeah – along the way, she lost her notes. And her hairbrush. Which was the final straw that lead to her meltdown.
People Expect Her To Be Some Sort of Guru
So there she is, kicking herself, winging it, with bad hair. And what do people expect her to talk about? About how she got her life together. Because that’s the happy ending we want. That’s how it’s supposed to be, “Like life is some Soduku puzzle I’m supposed to have figured out.” We laugh. Liz says, “I mean, are you fucking kidding me? Since I wrote Eat, Pray, Love, people assume not only have I gotten my life together, but that I am going to be able to tell them how to get their life together.”
She’s No Therapist or Mind Reader
She goes on to tell us about the woman with the crazed eyes who asked her, flat out, “Should I get a divorce?” Liz said, “You’ll know, if you think about this question for just one minute, that I can’t possibly answer that question for you.” And then the woman’s crazed face melted into a real face, a face so depleted, with so much pain, that Liz wound up in tears, because she KNOWS that face. She knows it because it has been her, because she remembers how you feel like you want to hand your power over to someone else and let them simply tell you what to do. There’s a longing to think that someone else has solved it, that they know how to help you. And yet, Liz admits, she is not this person. She says, “In your ascension to yourself, you go forward, then you plateau for a while, then you fall back 10 steps. Then you move forward again.” But writing your truth doesn’t make you a guru. It doesn’t make you God. It’s a lot of pressure, when people expect that of you.
Liz Gilbert Talks About Pleaping (Well, Sort Of)
Liz Gilbert talked about Pleaping (taking a Pink leap of faith). Okay, so maybe she didn’t exactly use that word. But when someone asked how she found the courage to change her life, she said, “You take a leap when you get to a place of the alternative being untenable. Nobody does what I did unless you can’t do what you’re doing any more. The only thing worse than not leaving is staying, and the only thing worse than staying is not leaving. An earthquake shakes your life, and your status quo becomes unbearable.” If you’re thinking about pleaping, and you’re not at that point, it may not be time yet.
I’m No Liz Gilbert, But I Understand What She Means
Around this time, I felt the tears start rolling. Why? I’m not sure. My tearducts have a mind of their own. But I suspect it has something to do with you Pinkies. Eat, Pray, Love affected me profoundly. When I read it, I had nearly finished the memoir I wrote, which has yet to be published. Reading her book gave me the guts to revisit it, to unleash my truth and rewrite my narrative. Shortly afterwards, the idea of Owning Pink began to unfurl. Her courage inspired mine, which has since inspired the courage of many of you, as your beautiful e-mails and messages bear witness to the transformation you are undergoing, as I transform on my journey. There are certainly tears of joy and awe shed over this alone.
She’s Only Human, Just Like Me
Liz Gilbert did many other things in our evening with her. She read a chapter from her upcoming book, Committed, about how she came to peace with marrying Felipe, the man with whom she fell in love at the end of Eat, Pray, Love and whom Homeland Security forced her to marry. (You’ll love it! It’s out in January and will be a must-read. Maybe we’ll make it our first Owning Pink Book Club book!) She answered Q&A from the crowd with her signature wit, candor, and inspiring voice.
While I enjoyed all these things, my own take-home message was something more. I realized that I am guilty of projecting onto Liz Gilbert all sort of things that may not be true. First of all, I assume she is my best friend, right? Isn’t she yours? And yet, when I met her in person at the end of the talk, I realized I don’t know her at all. I may know a few personal details she has chosen to share with me via her book, but do I know her? The real Liz Gilbert, the private stuff she would share with a real best friend? Nope. When she awkwardly put her arm around me for a photo op, it felt lovely, of course, but were we sisters? Nope.
I could see in her tired face that, although we all wanted something from her (books she could sign, photos with her, a few words of encouragement), she probably just wanted a quiet place to get away from the hustle and all the gushing attention. For one moment, we made eye contact, and I suddenly took on her energy and felt what I sometimes feel when I am the center of attention in a crowd: fatigue, shyness, a sense of being a bit overwhelmed. And yet, when I asked her what it’s like to be the subject of sudden fame, she said, graciously, “What’s to fear about people who love Eat, Pray, Love? It’s not like they’re Stephen King fans.” Right on, sister.
The Guru Is Within You
So why the tears in all this? I realize that I had been projecting onto Liz Gilbert. I had imbued her with all the goodness that exists within me, all the sense of possibility. In her, I saw the possibility of myself, filled with spontaneous joy and the richness of Italian indulgence. I saw the spiritual seeker, struggling to meditate and find God, all while fighting the monkey mind. I saw the adventure girl, struggling to find balance and love after a divorce of my own. What did I see in Liz Gilbert? I saw the best of ME. Because I know me so well, and her book shone the light on that part of me I want to nourish, I fell in love with her. I wanted to know her. I think, in some small way, I wanted to BE her.
Italy, India, Indonesia
I’ve heard that there are women out there replicating Liz Gilbert’s pilgrimage, following her exact footsteps, searching for their own Giovanni in Italy, their own Richard From Texas at the same ashram in India, seeking out Liz’s Bali healers Ketut Liyer and Wyann. Do they think that walking in her footsteps will make them brave and spiritual, like Liz? Don’t they realize she chose her path, sought healing in her way, and called upon her own experience to figure out how to mend a severely broken heart? Don’t they realize these things can’t be replicated, that her journey was hers alone?
We All Must Walk Our Own Path
I now realize that Liz’s book is her truth, not my truth. I don’t know her. I know me. What I love in her is what I love about the possibility within me, projected onto a canvas I can paint myself. While her book inspired me on many levels, Liz Gilbert is just another Pinkie, just a person trying to find her way, live her truth, and be authentic to who she really is. Is that worthy of respect and admiration? Absolutely. Is she an unbelievable writer with a courageous spirit? You betcha. Is it fair to put her on some pedestal that separates her from the rest of us? No way. She is just another woman, struggling to find her truth. And she has never claimed to be anything else.
Gurus Are Human Too
Lately, some of you have written me gushing letters that feed my ego and validate the 300-year-old spinster within me (long story- read this). Your sweet words touch me deeply, and I so appreciate the validation. But meeting Liz Gilbert tonight reminds me that those we admire are not so different from ourselves. We all have flaws, make mistakes, feel wounded, struggle for balance, and look to others for guidance. No guru is without his or her personal side. As much as we wish to deify those we admire, even Amma, when I met her, was making snide faces, clearly expressing signals to her followers, as I knelt in front of her and observed her for hours.
Liz Gilbert was no different. I felt like she went out of her way to prove this to us. She doesn’t want us to project onto her traits that are not hers. She wants to be seen as the real person she is. She laughs at a question about South Park’s “Eat, Pray, Queef,” and drops the F-word often. She offers no advice meant to be sage and laughs at herself. And yet, you walk away feeling inspired. Why? It’s not that Liz is really your best friend. It’s not even that she speaks guru words you’re inclined to write in your notebook. (Although I couldn’t resist writing down this quote. When someone asked her how writing a bestseller changed her life, she admitted that making money blessed her by reducing her anxiety and giving her the gift of helping others at will. But she also said, “Money is like tofu. It’s just an energy source that absorbs the flavor of however you use it.” We all laughed, and I scribbled. Guru wisdom, indeed.) It’s something else – something intangible – about her presence. Her energy is frenetic, funny, loving, and little bit world-weary. And yet, you walk away feeling uplifted.
How Owning Pink Shines the Light On the Possibility Within YOU
I won’t even begin to suggest that Owning Pink might inspire you on par with Eat, Pray, Love. But I will suggest that if you find nuggets of wisdom from our community that resonate with you, offered up by me, the Mojo Mentors, or you wise Pinkies, remember that no one of us is any wiser or smarter or more healthy than the rest. We are all on paths of our own, seeking awakening and committing to a life of joy and inner peace, just like Liz Gilbert. May I invite you to let the Pink light shine on the the possibility within each of you? It is your canvas to paint, your life to craft, your path to walk. How do you want to walk it, Pinkies? What beauty did Eat, Pray, Love or Owning Pink help you discover within you?
Walking the path in parallel with you all,
Lissa
Hiya Pinkies,
