eat love pray

This morning it happend. The typical subway experience. Someone steps on your train with his nose in a book that looks slightly familiar. In the best case it would have been my own book, in the second best case it’s the book I’m reading at the moment. Eat Love Pray. I know it’s a bestselling book and I know millions of people are reading it at the same time and yet: to see the book in somebody else’s hands is alien. I started wondering whether this person had anything in common with me, as if the other million readers who are reading this book necessarily need to look like or behave like me. I observed her clothes, her body, her face, her movements and her facial expressions. I observed the way she was holding the book in her hands. And all of a sudden I felt so distant from that person I decided I don’t wanna have this book in common with her. I tend to leave such decision behind in about 136 seconds, so that’s what I did. I might read on. It was something else that hit me. To me this moment was what a starting ignition plug is to a car. It triggered avalanches of thoughts about how sick I am of books who tell you the strories of people’s path to themselves. They defenitely arrived after they had a million copies sold. It’s good Oprah embraces the book for at least 20 seconds and we have yet another millionaire who has made his path. Yesterday evening I spent at least an hour in Chapters Bookstore and the whole second floor was filled with happy people who have written books to share their happiness and now live in mansions on the east- or westcoast due to the happiness their path has caused in other people’s lives. Everywhere books with pictures of people on it who are buddha-lookalikes, Joan Collins‘ twins or Pamela Anderson’s sisters. There’s someone for everyone. The gurus either look exotic (as if the truth is only found far away from home) or black-haired (dark women seem to get to the marrow of life) or blonde (blond women have more fun, it’s not only Marilyn we can be grateful to for that insight)… Yeah, eat love pray. It’s nothing against this particular book, it’s just against the need this society so extremly evokes: sear for truth outside yourself. Though these books talk about the exact opposite – look inside! – they live off this inner dependancy. Even Mariah Carey came across the HERO inside you… But some people never ever meet a hero inside themselves, some people get absorbed by looking for where this hero´s hiding and what it would feel like to find him. Looking at this girl with that book in her hands, I believed in nobody who sells millions of copies telling me how to live my best life. Actually many people living their best lives never heard of such books… Or spent their time reading others. But so what, that‘ s for today, there will certainly be a tomorrow when I will be sitting at home, the silence around so unbearable I will be reaching out for a book and it might be called : complicate your life…

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One thought on “eat love pray

  1. do not force:
    „complicate your life…“

    it will do without your help

    der ZEN-Meister sagt (und erschreckt mich damit seit 25 jahren):

    offene weite
    nichts von heilig

    wünsch dir das allerbeste
    SV

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