that I will never be that character. I’ve always been so fascinated by these wraith-like, delicate
souls. Always wanted to be the quiet girl. Probably precisely because I’m not. It’s the same
reason I think that thick, dark hair is so beautiful—precisely because I don’t have it, because I
can’t have it. But at some point you have to make peace with what you were given and if God
wanted me to be a shy girl with thick, dark hair, He would have made me that way, but He
didn’t. Useful, then, might be to accept how I was made and embody myself fully therein.
Or, as Sextus, the ancient Pythagorian philospher, said, “The wise man is always similar
to himself.”
This doesn’t mean I cannot be devout. It doesn’t mean I can’t be thoroughly tumbled and
humbled with God’s love. This does not mean I cannot serve humanity. It doesn’t mean I can’t
improve myself as a human being, honing my virtues and working daily to minimize my vices.
For instance, I’m never going to be a wallflower, but that doesn’t mean I can’t take a serious
look at my talking habits and alter some aspects for the better—working within my personality.
Yes, I like talking, but perhaps I don’t have to curse so much, and perhaps I don’t always
have to go for the cheap laugh, and maybe I don’t need to talk about myself quite so con-
stantly. Or here’s a radical concept—maybe I can stop interrupting others when they are
speaking. Because no matter how creatively I try to look at my habit of interrupting, I can’t find
another way to see it than this: “I believe that what I am saying is more important than what
you are saying.” And I can’t find another way to see that than: “I believe that I am more im-
portant than you.” And that must end.
All these changes would be useful to make. But even so, even with reasonable modifica-
tions to my speaking habits, I probably won’t ever be known as That Quiet Girl. No matter
how pretty a picture that is and no matter how hard I try. Because let’s be really honest about
who we’re dealing with here. When the woman at the Ashram Seva Center gave me my new
job assignment of Key Hostess, she said, “We have a special nickname for this position, you
know. We call it ‘Little Suzy Creamcheese,’ because whoever does the job needs to be social
and bubbly and smiling all the time.”
What could I say?
I just stuck out a hand to shake, bade a silent farewell to all my wishful old delusions and
announced, “Madam—I’m your girl.”
Eat, Pray, Love
dana p.
(Dana P.)
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