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Oct. 17, 2017
Eat, Pray, Labyrinth: How I found myself, stuck in a labyrinth. This is the story of how I, an American woman in my mid-thirties, recently divorced, and above-ground, began to search for a divine everything. My journey began when I realized that my life was directionless, and now I am very much underground. One day I was where you are, above ground, and now I am eternally trapped in a IonianGreco-Roman maze, underground.
When I first found myself in the sprawling, subterranean labyrinth, I thought back to my travels in Italy, but this was no time reminisce about past romance and food. I am, after all, contained by a complex branching maze. When you think about it, life is just one complex branching maze – one with unexpected turns and dead-ends and no sun and no escaping and a live Minotaur.
This massive, perverted sewer– Ikea has led me back to a true-self. Within the confines of this life-size Algernon puzzle, I am GandhiGhandi. I am Nelson Mandela. I am Jim Carrey and Nicole Richie and anyone else who doesn’t exist inside the labyrinth. I wish I wasn’t, but I am also a swamp-beast hybrid between Seth MacFarlane and Gordon Ramsay. Say what you will about womanhood and, in return, I will say this:
Eat, Pray, Labyrinth. Go to Italy to eat. Go to India to pray. But whatever you do, don’t take the same wrong turn I did after and end up in the Labyrinth. Italy, Yoga class, This chicken is raw!, Labyrinth.
