I just finished reading “Eat, Pray, Love,” an amusing, insightful, honest book by Elizabeth Gilbert. The author, who just got a divorce and is in the midst of an unstable relationship, takes off for Italy, India, and Indonesia. In Italy, she learns Italian while pigging out on rich pastas and desserts. In India, she learns to meditate at an Ashram (a place of peace, seclusion, and meditation), and in Indonesia, she hangs out with a medicine man.

That’s the three-sentence summary, but the book is way more interesting than I’ve made it sound. What I loved most about the book was the writing style. I felt like I was reading a letter from a friend who was being absolutely candid about her emotions and her adventures. Sometimes people who write about spiritual awakenings tend to take on this gentle, sugar-coated take, as to not offend the reader or even the topic they’re writing about. Not Liz Gilbert. If she can’t think about anything but the pain in her leg or the guy she’s lusting over while trying to meditate, she doesn’t hesitate to say it. It’s been awhile since any book has received five flowers (my rating system) in my book journal, but this book definitely did.

Oh right, the point of my entry. When Liz (we’re on a nickname/first-name basis now) was in India, she befriended a lot of people at the Ashram and recognized that she was being quite the social butterfly (which is her natural tendency no matter where she is). So she told herself, “From now on, I’m going to be the mysterious Quiet Girl,” and proceeded to try to socialize less. I think within a day or so of making that pact with herself, she was assigned to be a hostess for an upcoming conference at the Ashram, meaning her role was to make sure everyone was being taken care of. In other words, she’d have to be social.

She obviously saw the irony in that, and also recognized that if God had wanted her to be a Quiet Girl, He would have made her that way. But He didn’t–and there’s nothing wrong with NOT being a Quiet Girl. But Liz also recognized that she still could improve on certain areas, like not interrupting people so much when they’re talking. She wrote something about how when you interrupt someone, you’re essentially relaying the message that what they have to say is not as important as what *I* have to say.

I never thought of it that way. I tend to interrupt when I’m reminded about something by what the other person is saying, and I’m excited to tell them. But that’s still interrupting, and it’s still impolite and disrespectful. Someone at work recently said that it’s a World Vision thing to interrupt people–which is a negative trait, of course, and it’s something that everyone here needs to improve on. I don’t know if it’s really related to our organization, but my team meetings are full of interruptions, which is why I’m pretty much the Team Mute.

Regardless, I know I still can interrupt people in personal conversations, so I haven’t forgotten what Liz said. I also needed the reminder that, although God didn’t make me Miss Social, that’s OK. A mellower, quieter person isn’t inferior to a talkative, more aggressive person, even if society sometimes makes it out to be that way. So no matter how I am, that’s how God made me–and that’s OK. :)