I finished the book tonight. I admit, she kind of lost me in Indonesia. But it still left me with a lot to think about.

I was trying to explain to my husband why I find it useful and interesting, beyond the religion parts. How Elizabeth takes a book that is essentially about her spiritual journey and makes it very… relevent, accessable, understandable. To everyone. You can almost feel her message jump off the page: This is my spiritual journey. If yours is different, that’s cool. If you don’t have one, that’s cool too. I’m just putting mine out there, in case you find it useful. I like that. It’s so unassuming. She doesn’t make me feel like since I don’t buy into all of it that I shouldn’t bother with any of it. She doesn’t make me feel that, as an athiest, her lessons won’t be useful to me unless I see things her way. Yes, I like that.

So I try to make sense of it all. First I let myself read the book, just read it. I mark down the things that jump out of me. And then I go back and ask myself, why does that speak to me? What can I learn from it? Can I take something from her story that will help me?

I see her journey with and to her Self – the deeper, wiser parts of herself. That is what I want, what I am always looking for. As someone who has struggled with depression and anxiety for many years I find that most of my thoughts and internal struggles revolve around trying to step back. Not dissociate – done that, trust me it’s bad (though useful at times) – but just give myself some space from the immediacy of everything. I used to write, over and over in my journals, I just want to find a way to turn it OFF. The thoughts, the emotions… I was constantly under an onslaught and I couldn’t take a breath of fresh air. I needed some breathing room, I needed some space.

I have been thinking a lot about the act of meditation. There have been times in my past when I have tried it, desperate for that stillness, but it was as someone following the directions and not understanding it. You sit like this, you breathe like this, and you wait to relax. Not surprizingly, it wasn’t very relaxing.

Tonight, after midnight, I turned off the light at just sat in my bed. At first I sat up straight, breathing. I tried the mantra Elizabeth uses at one point: Nahhhhmmm-rahhhhh… Shouldn’t a mantra actually mean something to you? Shouldn’t it be a thought to hold onto? Not like it matters. I can do whatever I want. I changed my words on a whim. I love you, I silently said to my Self. Simple, to the point.

But I wasn’t very comfortable or relaxed. I let my body sink forward with a deep exhale, letting the tension out of my back, my shoulders, my arms. I love you. My attention scanned from my feet to my legs to my hips and up my body, picturing in my mind this person that I am, this body that I inhabit. I felt my body release tension.

Suddenly it all felt so familiar and I realized this is what we did in preparation for labor. I already know how to meditate. We learned how to let tension go, to let our minds go, to accept our body’s state and float through it. I did it right through labor.

I find it sweetly poetic. Being pregnant was the first time in my life I learned to connect with my body on that level. It was the first time I have ever really loved myself.