Can I get a Ketut?

Eat Pray Love plays to my left.  The ones sitting in front of the television are China and Selma Lu Mela.  They snooze and seemingly enjoy the sounds of Italy, India, and Bali.  Honey, our adopted addition, has just joined them, situating herself so that she sees me from the floor near the coffee table.  Either she prefers the floor or she doesn't feel she has gained sofa-status.  I think they relate to the story.  They eat, they love, and there is proof they pray because Honey isn't stranded in an empty, lonely field as her last owner intended.  Instead she is brushed every night while curled on a feather pallet and gets sweet wishes whispered in her ear.  I think she has this eat, pray, love thing down.

I saw this movie in Edenton's movie theatre that must claim historical significance as the rest of the town does.  Out front is a really cool old marquee with big bulb lights.  Nevertheless, the fuzzy screen did its job and I sat there salivating as the shot zoomed in to a plate of pasta.  The parmesan cheese sprinkled and scattered over the perfect-looking al dente noodles like magical fairy dust.  I looked to my left where my dear friend sat and she looked to her right locking eyes with me.  Both of our jaws went slack and we stared at each other with the same expression not even whispering but knowing exactly what the other meant.  We would have metaphysically transported our bodies to Rome with no hesitation if we could have in that moment.  After the movie the group of girls filling up our row of seats gathered in a circle on the sidewalk.  It was as if we were in second grade and met on the playground.  We all buzzed about where we would go after we dropped everything in life.  And we exchanged confirmations of the fact that Javier Bardem was cast perfectly. ("You don't need a man Liz, you need a champion." Wow.)  Then, behind us came the older, more traditional generation.  We overheard their exchange of opinions and it was remarkable how greatly they differed from ours.  They pronouncedly didn't like it all and were bored with her pursuit of happiness and sense of knowing more of herself than she did before.  This difference has stuck with me.  I notice how things have changed with time, as they always do.  Change.  One can not fight it.  You change, or you die... seems to me.  The body is built on the ability to change and the soul is the same, in my thinking. As far as the masses go- The flexibility within has increased from the former generation to the one I sit in- and the allowance to exhibit this outwardly has increased too.  

Did the set before us learn to be dot connectors from their parents or was it a collaboration?  How have we learned to be less rigidly traditional if this pattern is passed from one age set to the next?  I guess it is gradually loosening, this stranglehold on "The Way to Live One's Life".  We can see the creative differences everywhere.  An easy place to start is fashion.  It is about individuality not conformity these days.  It is about ease of movement not restriction.  We don't have to fake comfort anymore, we can pursue it.  And if we want to choose discomfort, no one judges that either.  Stilettos and tight pencil skirts are completely acceptable when worn next to jersey knit and flip flops.  Just an example.

When I was younger than I am right now I would drive home from college bursting internally with frustration over the same idea that had frustrated me for all my years in high school.  "Who came up with the rules?  And who says I have to obey them?  Why do I need to connect the dots, marching down the same path from check point to check point, and draw the same outline as everyone else?  Why did society conform to this particular direction and call it best?"  It felt like suffocation.  When I watched crowds of people doing exactly the same things in the exact same way, I felt like running in the other direction as fast as I could.  It cost me some friends that I adored too.  But, it was impossible for me to join the crowd and flow uniformly.  So, I chose to be a friend to myself- as best I could anyway.  I was, after all, going to be around me longer than I would be around anyone else. ;)  

I read a comment from an interview of a celebrity that does things consistently her own way.  She said (paraphrasing) that being an individual is not always easy, that people who choose to be individuals can find themselves lonely sometimes because that is part of it.  I was in the bathtub relaxing and reading by candlelight when I took notice of those words.  True.  I thought.  It was so basic and so true.  Also, it was admirable.  I enjoy seeing people be genuine to themselves.

It serves well as a reminder.  When faced with huge gaps between your ways and another's ways, these words are comforting and reassuring that we all have our own company and there is a sort of bravery in marching down the path we choose to be ours and not the one others plan for us.  It is a 'road less traveled' moment.  It would be nice if we all had a Ketut like the subject of the film-someone who knew our way as much as we did and could subtly point us in the direction we meant to be facing before we got sidetracked or turned around.  Maybe if we are aware enough eventually we find our inner Ketut.  

Look inward not outward for answers.  Repeat.

It was a generation gap, the differences in what each group of gals gained from the film.  So often we are told that we have strayed from what is right and good and that we should go back to solid values.  New generations are often scolded.  I see that we could also move forward to better values.  The world is more dangerous 'they' say.  Statistically, based on percentages, the results say the opposite is true.  And I think of the fact that in those "good old days" two World Wars dominated civilizations and atomic bombs were dropped and... still the older set keep marching us toward war and utter disharmony (some do this while preaching the opposite).  Who is telling who about right versus wrong?  If we were all confident enough to march down our paths toward happiness & difference and not toward expectations & uniformity would we find peaceful existence? 

Maybe a better question is-  How did all this come from watching Julia Roberts globe trot?