The One Where She Ate Her Feelings

Elizabeth Gilbert got it all wrong. Yes, going to three different locations on a journey to oneself makes for an intriguing book, and it certainly fits in with the mystical power of threes; however, after spending a month here, I can't help but wonder why Ms. Gilbert didn't come straight to Bali. You can eat, pray, and love here, all without leaving one village... sometimes, without leaving the same small stretch of beach. It requires a change in perspective: you'll be hard pressed to find Italian ravioli here, and Javier Bardem is not lurking around every corner, simply biding his time until a million love-wrecked ladies happen to walk by (I've looked). Sometimes, praying is nothing more than sitting in one place for a very, very long time, wishing you had a piece of home, waiting for the water in your brain to evaporate so you can't possibly cry anymore. Since I've been in Bali, I've had to change the way I walk in the world. For one, I have to look where I'm going--if I don't, I'm likely to fall in a pothole or get hit by a motorbike (done and done). I've also had to change the way I sit in my mind. The past few weeks, besides being a time of infinite growth and good times, has marked one of the most difficult heartaches I've ever experienced. So when I got the opportunity to spend the weekend in Ubud with a good friend from college, I leapt at the chance to do a little Liz Gilbert-ing of my own--but in the interest of time, decided to put the praying and loving on hiatus. My heart had been stomped on, and I did what any woman in her right mind would do: I ate.

For those of you who haven't known me very long, or for those who've had the good sense to disregard this charming little aspect of my life, I've spent the past five years involved in a relationship that--were it not for the deep love involved--would easily fall under the "DANGER: Extremely Hazardous!" category. At times, I've had only one toe in the water, and at other times have been completely submerged... but in any case, I've spent nearly a quarter of my life in pursuit of a man who has spent most of that time in pursuit of himself. It's like that experiment with the monkey and the banana: as soon as it lets go of the fruit, it's free to go... but it would sooner die with its hand in the trap than leave and give up the banana.  I've made the same mistake over and over again, given my heart to the same person countless times--expecting, somehow, that THIS time will be different--but without fail, I always end up getting burned. This time around, I didn't get dumped: I got ignored. I left for Bali with a kiss and a promise for a future together, and one month of silence later, have been left to assume that my relationship is over. Surprising behavior? Hardly. But when it's love, it's not always easy to take your hand out of the trap.

So I did the crying thing, I did the anger thing, and I did the self-loathing thing... which left me with one important branch: the indulgence thing. Over the weekend in Ubud, surrounded by good girlfriends and a beautiful village, I fed myself. Fruit salads with watermelon, mango, banana, and lychee, soaked in tart yogurt and sprinkled with homemade muesli. Cold-brewed cappuccino with cardamom and fresh ginger. Hot, fluffy cinnamon rolls dotted with walnuts and palm sugar. Sticky black rice pudding with sweet coconut cream. Nasi campur with thick coconut flesh, tempe curry, greasy corn fritters, and stringy greens. Thick spirulina-banana smoothies. Mulberry almond muffins. Homemade veggie burgers with thinly-sliced apple, crisp lettuce, and garlic tahini. Gingerale with lemongrass and fresh mint. Rosella tea kombucha. Fresh-squeezed wheatgrass juice. Thick sourdough rye toast with pumpkin miso butter. Frozen coffee ice cream swirled with caramel, whipped cream, and powdered sugar. Raw flaxseed-pizza crackers with cashew cheese and fresh avocado. Homemade banana muffins. Dark chocolate with spiced almond butter and caramelized cashews.

With each bite that I took, every nibble that tasted like something other than nasi goreng, I felt a little bit of myself coming back. I could feel the vitamins (and occasionally, the caffeine) spread to my fingers and toes, waking them up, nourishing them. And yes, Freud, I realize that it's just food... it's not the same as love, or a hug from a friend. Blah, blah, blah. Anyone who has had their heart broken knows that sometimes, you just gotta eat it out. Sometimes, the best you can do is treat yourself to something delicious that was made with care and love; and sometimes, that's good enough.

So I ate, and I prayed a little, and I decided to love myself again... and almost immediately after I did, was met with something extraordinary. On the way out of Bali Buddha on Friday, just after taking this gem of a photo:

...Vera noticed an advertisement for a traveling nanny. "Oh tough," she said. "All expenses paid nanny. That sounds terrible." (insert sarcasm here.) Anyhow, and I'm not exactly sure why, I was overwhelmed by the feeling that I needed to rip down this advertisement and take it with me. Seeing as I considered it impossible to actually respond to the ad, it was definitely not the least selfish thing I've done in my life. For about an hour afterwards, I kept turning it over and over in my hands, trying to figure out why I had a sick feeling in my stomach. After sitting in silence for a while and effectively freaking out my friends, I borrowed a phone and made the call. To this day, I have no idea why I did it. I just felt like I had to. Turns out the woman who placed the ad is a Sacramento-born, UCSB graduate who has been living in Asia and doing yoga, acupuncture, and Craniosacral therapy for most of her adult life. She and her husband, also a UCSB graduate, are leading a YogaWorks training on Balian Beach from November 2-December 10, and they need someone to watch their 4-year-old daughter, Olivia. After speaking on the phone for a while, the woman (Alicia) asked if I would meet up with her. And... one day, one children's ceramics class, and one walk through the rice fields later, I was offered the job. More than that, the job was extended--Alicia asked if I would accompany them through the holidays in Ubud, and then to Thailand for two Yin yoga trainings with an American master, Paul Grilley. My time with the family would be an all-expenses paid chance to hang out with one of the most beautiful and soulful little girls I've ever met. Within hours of meeting, Olivia and I were holding hands and chatting like long-lost sisters. To get the chance to spend time with her--and when she's in school, to participate FOR FREE in one of the best yoga trainings in the world--sounded almost too good to be true.

And like most things in my life, I nearly talked myself out of it. What about the holidays? What about my family? What about the fact that I only brought enough clothing for one month, and most of it is molding? What about money? More than anything, I found myself wondering what would happen to me if I allowed myself to give in to the unknown. I was held back by the blind hope that if I returned home and met my boyfriend face-to-face, the fog would lift and we would fall back into each other's arms... and who knows, maybe we would have. All I know is that it's not worth sacrificing this opportunity, or myself, to find out. I've been there. I've done that.

Besides, if I were to speak to him right now and tell him about this chance, I know exactly what he'd say. He'd tell me to take it.

So... I did! This day marks the beginning of an incredible new chapter in my life. My time at Slukat has been incredible, and I feel fortunate to have bonded with so many of the kids and volunteers here. I've seen faces light up when they understand something new, and that is worth its weight in gold. The fact that I get to continue this journey, spending time with a brilliant little girl and traveling around a part of the world that I feel hugely comfortable AND uncomfortable in (it's the paradox that makes it good), fills my heart with joy. More than that, it gives me hope. Because who knows what I won't find? It feels boundless. It's going to be difficult at times, I know that, but it feels boundless.

For some reason, the metaphor that keeps popping into my head is that Life is grabbing my by the undies; and now that I think about it, that's not half bad. When someone's got you by the underpants, you have no choice but to run with them... because if you resist, you get a wedgie. And no one likes a wedgie.