Dorothy's Translation E2C (Eat, Pray, Love - Chapter 4)

Dorothy

Of course, I’ve had a lot of time to formulate my opinions about divinity since that night on the bathroom floor when I spoke to God directly for the first time. In the middle of that dark November crisis, though, I was not interested in formulating my views on theology. I was interested only in saving my life. I had finally noticed that I seemed to have reached a state of hopeless and life-threatening despair, and it occurred to me that sometimes people in this state will approach God for help. I think I’d read that in a book somewhere.

What I said to God through my gasping sobs was something like this: “Hello, God. How are you? I’m Liz. It’s nice to meet you.”

That’s right—I was speaking to the creator of the universe as though we’d just been introduced at a cocktail party. But we work with what we know in this life, and these are the words I always use at the beginning of a relationship. In fact, it was all I could do to stop myself from saying, “I’ve always been a big fun of your work…”

“I’m sorry to bother you so late at night,” I continued. “But I’m in serious trouble. And I’m sorry I haven’t even spoken directly to you before, but I do hope that I have always expressed ample gratitude for all the blessings that you’ve given me in my life.”

This thought caused me to sob even harder. God waited me out. I pulled myself together enough to go on: “I am not an expert at praying, as you know. But can you please help me? I am in desperate need of help. I don’t know what to do. I need an answer. Please tell me what to do. Please tell me what to do. Please tell me what to do…”

And so the prayer narrowed itself down to that simple entreaty—Please tell me what to do—repeated again and again. I don’t know how many times I begged. I only know that I begged like someone who was pleading for her life. And the crying went on forever.

Until—quite abruptly—it stopped.

Quite abruptly, I found that I was not crying anymore. I’d stopped crying, in fact, in mid-sob. My misery had been completely vacuumed out of me. I lifted my forehead off the floor and sat up in surprise wondering if I would see now some Great Being who had taken my weeping away. But nobody was there. I was just alone. But not really alone either. I was surrounded by something I can only describe as a little pocket of silence—a silence so rare that I didn’t want to exhale, for fear of scaring it off. I was seamlessly still. I don’t know when I’d ever felt such silence.

Then I heard a voice. Please don’t be alarmed—it was not an Old Testament Hollywood Charlton Heston voice, nor was it a voice telling me I must build a baseball field in my backyard. It was merely my own voice, speaking from within my own self. But this was my voice as I had never heard it before. This was my voice, but perfectly wise, calm and compassionate. This was what my voice would sound life if I’d only experienced love and certainty in my life. How can I describe the warmth of affection in that voice, as it gave me the answer that would seal my faith in the divine?

The voice said: Go back to bed, Liz.

I exhaled.

It was so immediately clear that this was the only thing to do. I would not have accepted any other answer. I would not have trusted a great booming voice that said either: You Must Divorce Your Husband! or You Must Not Divorce Your Husband! Because that’s not true wisdom. True wisdom gives the only possible answer at any given moment, and that night, going back to bed was the only possible answer. Go back to bed, said this omniscient interior voice, because you don’t need to know the final answer right now, at three o’clock in the morning on a Thursday in November. Go back to bed, because I love you. Go back to bed, because the only thing you need to do for now is get some rest and take good care of yourself until you do know the answer. Go back to bed so that, when the tempest comes, you’ll be strong enough to deal with it. And the tempest is coming, dear one. Very soon. But not tonight. Therefore:

Go back to bed, Liz.

In a way, this little episode had all the hallmarks of a typical Christian conversion experience—the dark night of the soul, the call for help, the responding voice, the sense of transformation. But I would not say that this was a religious conversion for me, not in that traditional manner of being born again or saved. Instead, I would call what happened that night the beginning of a religious conversation. The first words of an open and exploratory dialogue that would, ultimately, bring me very close to God, indeed.


[ 本帖最后由 Dorothy 于 2008-11-20 22:12 编辑 ]

Dorothy

　　的确，自从跪在浴室地板上第一次直接与上帝交谈的那晚以来，我花了很多时间试图确切地表达我对神学的观点。但是，在那场暗无天日的十一月危机中，我所感兴趣的并不是如何表明我对神学的看法。我只想救我自己的命。我最终意识到自己似乎已经沦入了危及生命的绝望境地，我突然想到处于这种状态的人们有时会向上帝寻求帮助。这大概是我曾经在某本书中读到过的。
　　我啜泣着对上帝说了这样的话：“上帝，您好!我是莉姿。很高兴认识您。”
　　没错，我就是在与天地万物的创造者交谈，就像我们刚刚在鸡尾酒派对上被介绍而认识彼此一样。但在生活中，我们就是这样以我们所熟悉的方式行事的，而这恰恰就是我在与人初识之时惯用的开场白。实际上，这是除了说“我一直都很欣赏您的作品……”之外，我唯一能想到的。
　　“这么晚打扰您真是不好意思，”我接着说。“可是我真的遇到大麻烦了。很抱歉，过去我从未与您直接交谈过，我真希望我以前就在一直为我生活中您所赐予的一起向您表达莫大的感谢。”
　　这样的想法甚至让我啜泣得更加严重了。上帝等着我继续说下去。我控制住自己的情绪，接着说：“如您所知，我并不擅长祈祷。但是，您能帮帮我吗？我迫切地需要您的帮助。我不知该如何是好。我需要一个答案。请告诉我，我该怎么做。请告诉我，我该怎么做。请告诉我，我该怎么做……”
　　就这样，我的祈祷词就缩减成了这个简单的请求——请告诉我，我该怎么做——我一遍又一遍地重复念着。我不知道自己究竟乞求了多少次。我只知道，我就像一个再三恳求别人饶她一命的人一样，诚恳而迫切地乞求着。泪水止不住地流。
　　直到有一刻——眼泪戛然而止。
　　我突然发现，我不再哭了。事实上，我只是啜泣到一半的时候，就已经不哭了。我的痛苦已经被从我的身体里彻底地抽走了。我抬起头，怀着惊喜的心情坐起来，很好奇我是否会看到让我停止哭泣的上帝。然而，周围一个人也没有。只有我独自一人在房间里。但我并不孤单。我被某种东西包围着，我只能形容它是一片寂静——一片太少有的寂静，我甚至不想喘气，生怕把它吓跑。我完全静止不动。记忆中，我从未有过如此地感受。
　　随后，我听到了一个声音。别害怕，那并不是好莱坞巨星查尔登·海斯顿朗诵《旧约》的声音，也不是告诉我我必须在后院建一个棒球场的声音。那不过是从我身体内部发出的我自己的声音而已。但是，这个声音，仿佛我自己也从未听过。它听起来精明聪慧，冷静沉稳，并且充满了同情和怜悯。如果我的一生中只体验了关爱和信任，我的声音听起来就应该是这样的。尽管我根本无法用语言来形容那个声音所传递出的爱的温暖，但这个声音却说出了一个将令我永远虔诚地信仰上帝的答案。
　　它说：“回去睡觉吧，莉姿。”
　　我松了口气。
　　我晃然大悟，这就是我在此时此刻唯一要做的事情，这就是我渴望的答案。除此之外，任何其它的答案，我都不会接受。倘若是一个低沉而有回响的声音大声地对我说：“你必须和你的丈夫离婚!”或者“你不能和你的丈夫离婚!”我也不会信服。因为那并不是真正的智慧。真正的智慧只会给出在特定的情境中唯一可行的答案，而那晚，回去睡觉就是唯一可行的答案。那个从我身体里传出的无所不知的声音说“回去睡觉吧”，因为在十一月一个星期四的凌晨三点钟，你并不需要立刻知道最终的答案。“回去睡觉吧”，因为我爱你。“回去睡觉吧”，因为你现在唯一需要做的就是好好休息，照顾好自己，直到你得到想要的答案。“回去睡觉吧”，这样，待暴风雨来临时，你才能够坚强面对。更何况一场很猛烈的暴风雨就要来了。很快就要来了。不过不是今晚。所以：
　　“回去睡觉吧，莉姿。”
　　在某种程度上看来，刚刚所发生的一切正是典型的皈依天主教的体验——灵魂的苦难，迫切的求助，回应的声音，感悟的转变。但从传统的重生和救赎的意义上来说，我并不认为这对于我是宗教信仰的皈依。我更愿意将今晚发生的一切称作是一次宗教谈话的开始。我坚信，这次以坦诚的试探性话语开始的谈话，最终将使我切实地接近上帝。

[ 本帖最后由 Dorothy 于 2008-11-21 20:45 编辑 ]

Cinderella

I would not say that is a religious conversation. When we are focusing our mind on a single thing, for quite a long time, and we will find we gain some wisdom and peace and tranquility. Of course it's all very well to call that inner self "God".

Good translation!

Dorothy

Thanks!
Everyone has Hancock within him and now there's God too. Lol~