Eaten, Prayed & Loveless
[caption id="attachment_1041" align="alignnone" width="514" caption="Eat Pray Love - Sony Pictures 2010"][/caption]I’m perched semi-lotus’d at Bali Buddha, the brilliant mung bean eatery on most Ubud visitors’ munch list. I look around and realise I’m outnumbered by a collective of semi-cloned thirty-ish to forty something women. They sit alone, shoulders draped in layers of freshly haggled sarongs and retreat daywear with bleach-free shoulder bags by their sides. Long manes of hair glow from 4hr morning coconut treatments.
Post their Yin Yoga class, super green smoothies clasped in one hand, carbon neutral hemp diaries and hibiscus pink encased iPhones in the other running hot with conversation like “I’ve found this great space for my next Salsa Chakra enlightened self retreat… uh huh… yep…yep… this trip has meant truly awesome enlightenment for me too… totally… yes… TOTALLY!” Others are engrossed in SMS or journaling with distancing looks of ‘I’m here on my journey. I own this journey. No one can take this discovery from me. And you… yes you… man with penis… don’t even think about talking to me. You’re an appendix to the human condition. We are Eat Pray Love’d women… hear our silent roar.’
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