One of the books I purchased a Magers & Quinn a couple weeks ago was Eleven Minutes by Paulo Coehlo. My book club read The Alchemist a few months back and I was moved enough to remember to search for other novels he had written.
The main character is a young Brazilian woman, from the backcountry, who learns early in her life that love only causes pain and entrapment, who is "discovered" in Rio and brought to Geneva, Switzerland for a job as a dancer. As you might expect, she becomes a prostitute, and further stops believing in love, in the goodness of men, or the value of sex.
I can't get into it any more deeply here. It's just an explicit but beautifully written book about pain, pleasure, and their admixture; about love, adventure, dreams, and sacred sex. In the end, as you also might expect, her ability to love is redeemed, but it is because a man wins and makes love to her soul, not her body. To use the book's language, he sees her "light," because he has also lost his light and his ability to feel.
You should read it. You really, really should read it. (You should read The Alchemist too.)
I finished the book yesterday, during one of my twelve hour shifts.
Normally, my two rest days from working out are on my two twelve-hour shift days. When I got home last night, however, and after stopping at the store to pick up ingredients for the minestrone I'll bring to choir rehearsal tomorrow, all I wanted to do was yoga. For the most part, I haven't practiced for nearly two months, and before that, it was weekly or biweekly at best because of my arm and neck.
So I went to the mat. I didn't think of anything in particular as I practiced, only that it felt really good. (And that my muscles have lost a lot of their pliability!)
It was in savasana that I felt it lift. For a nice change, I didn't even cry. My eyes fluttered open and I heard myself say aloud, "I forgive him." Then I laughed just a little, because where did that come from?
Maybe it was the book. Maybe I got really deep into my hips with my practice, where we store our emotions.
Maybe I had only needed to see him again. Maybe the medication helps me that much, even if it's not even been two weeks.
Maybe I just needed the time to pass.
It doesn't matter. I don't know the truth about any of it, in his life or even my own, other than what I would have done differently. I asked for his heart to be taken care of, and I meant it. I said thank you for the opportunity of being made to feel beautiful and wanted, even for a night.
I forgave myself.
And then I went to bed in a kind of peace.
Sunday, December 14, 2014
Boutique and Art Fair shopping day.
|Santa Barbara Pier|
|Santa Barbara Roasting Company, and some great beans to take home.|
|Manda found a stationary store. Wootten Printing :)|
|Random dinner stop on the long drive home - Tavern 101|
|Cabrillo National Monument|
|Bayside Trail hike|
|Point Cabrillo Lighthouse, preserved for historical accuracy.|
Crazy to think an entire family lived here.
And finally, a quick post-hike trip to Pappalecco before the airport. I ordered a macchiato and the woman behind the counter says in her thick Italian accent, "We do serve them like you would get in Italia..." to which I answered, "That's what I was hoping!!"
|Til next year sis!|
at 6:23 PM
Saturday, December 13, 2014
|First thing I see out the door of The Inn on East Beach!|
|Morning run, to my left|
|Morning run, to my right|
|The Moreton Bay Fig Tree, and the destination of my run.|
Rumored to be the largest in the country.
|Never seen a fig on its tree before!|
Gainey Vineyard, Santa Ynez
|How DOES she get me to do these things?!?|
Sunstone Vineyard, Santa Ynez
|Are we in Tuscany? Just wondering...|
Oreana Winery, Santa Barbara
|Photo bomb by Maleek|
|Manda, Shel Bell, Sarah, Amy|
at 10:19 PM