Eat, Pray, Love

From “Eat, Pray, Love” ~ Elizabeth Gilbert

“Grief makes us yearning for wholeness, for understanding, for meaning, for the opportunity to regain or even simply touch what we’ve lost.”

~ Linda Benton

My dear sister sent me this when I was in one of my deepest hours of grief and despair ~ see below in quotes.  I was losing my health, was diagnosed with atrial fib, and was hospitalized.  My weight of 90#’s (a girl’s size 10) was a result of my inability to eat.  My husband, family, and friends were all over me to eat, sleep and stop crying.  But I couldn’t.  I just couldn’t.  I was totally and entirely absorbed in my grief and despair – it was my every waking moment of life.  I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t concentrate, and cried pretty much constantly. 

One morning lying in bed crying, I felt a bulge on my low spine.  Here, I had become so skinny that every vertebrae in my spine was exposed and sticking out.  I had been eating maybe 500 calories a day at this point because my stomach was in such pain every time I ate. 

That morning was an eye-opener for me.  I forced myself to eat at least 200 more calories a day. And then after a week or two added another 200 calories a day – now bringing my calorie consumption up to 900 calories a day.  Within a month, I was up to 1200 calories a day. 

At some point, I recognized that the only thing I could control in the grief process I was going through, was what I ate.  It was only then that was I able to go back to a healthy lifestyle of eating.  At the time, I had absolutely no idea that the only thing I was in control of was what I ate.  My family and friends knew this, but I was so grief stricken I certainly didn’t realize this. 

I share this with you in hopes that I can pay it forward and offer you solace in overcoming your grief.  I read this morning, noon and night – sometimes a hundred times a day.  AND my constant sobbing had to also stop ~ and I do mean constant sobbing.  When I read this, I did not allow myself to cry – I started with 1 minute a day of no crying.  And then increased this to not allowing myself to cry every time I read it.  Eventually I worked up to 5 minutes of no crying, then 10, then 30, etc., and started to gain control of my life back.

“So I’ve started being vigilant about watching my thoughts all day and monitoring them.  I repeat this vow about 700 times a day:  “I will not harbor unhealthy thoughts anymore.”  Every time a diminishing thought arises, I repeat the vow.  “I will not harbor unhealthy thoughts anymore.”  The first time I heard myself say this, my inner ear perked up at the word “harbor”, which is a noun as well as a verb.  A harbor, or course is a place of refuge, a port of entry.  I pictured the harbor of my mind – a little beat-up, perhaps a little storm-warn, but well situated and with a nice depth.  The harbor of my mind is an open bay, the only access to the island of my Self (which is a young and volcanic island, yet, but fertile and promising).   This island has been through some wars, it is true, but is now committed to peace, under a new leader (me) who has instituted new policies to protect the place.  And now – let the word go out across the seven seas – there are much much stricter laws on the books about who may enter this harbor.

You may not come here anymore with your hard and abusive thoughts, with your plague ship of thoughts, with your slave ships of thoughts, with your warships of thoughts – all these will be turned away.  Likewise, any thoughts that are filled with angry or starving exiles, with malcontents and pamphleteers, mutineers and violent assassins, desperate prostitutes, pimps and seditious stowaways – you may not come here anymore either.  Cannibalistic thoughts, for obvious reasons, will no longer be received.  Even missionaries will be screened carefully, for sincerity.  This is a peaceful harbor, the entryway to a fine and proud island that is only now beginning to cultivate tranquility.  If you can abide by these new laws my dear thoughts, then you are welcome in my mind – otherwise, I shall turn you all back toward the sea from whence you came.

Peace, love & dogs,

Linda Benton