word

In the book Eat Pray Love, one of the many interesting souls she meets a long the way tells her that each person and place has one word that describes them. After a discussion about what her current location's word would be, he inevitably asks her what her word would be. At that point she has not yet found herself, and has therefore not yet found her word.

It was only natural after reading that that I would think about what my "word" would be. I found my mind combing, but there are just too many and not just one that seems to encompass everything that I am (or anything that any of us are). So I let it go.

Since Eat Pray Love I have embarked on much more daunting literary feats, settling into the 986 page The Brothers Karamazov. It's been a rough beginning. I have always had a fond spot in my heart for Dostoyevsky, but when it seems like 40 pages of the 103 you've read so far are about Christian punishment and the state, it begins to bog you down. I picked it up tonight after a prolonged absence (absence makes the heart grow fonder right?) and stumbled upon a lovely scene. One of the monks is speaking about one of the brothers and labels him with a word. " That is his designation and his entire inner essence." Unfortunately for the brother his word is voluptuary. It made me smile inside that a 19th century Russian monk had the same philosophy about people as a 21st century Italian man.

We are all more alike than we think.

M