The place in which I was standing can't be described like an earthly location. It was neither dark nor light, neither big nor small. Nor was it a place, nor was I technically standing there, nor was I exactly "I" anymore. I still had my thoughts, but they were so modest, quiet and observatory. Not only did I feel unhesitating compassion and unity with everything and everybody, it was vaguely and amusingly strange for me to wonder how anybody could ever feel anything but that. I also felt mildly charmed by all my old ideas about who I am and what I'm like. I'm a woman, I come from America, I'm talkative, I'm a writer—all this felt so cute and obsolete. Imagine cramming yourself into such a puny box of identity when you could experience your infinitude instead.
我站立的地方不能说是凡间。不暗也不亮，不大也不小。也不是一个地方。严格来说，我也不是站在那儿，我也不再是“我”。我仍有自己的思维，却是谦卑、安静、观察性的思维。我不仅感觉到坚定的慈悲，与万事万物合而为一，奇怪的是，我也在想，人怎么可能感受到这样的感觉。我还略微陶醉于关于我是什么人、哪一种人的昔日想法。“我是女人，我是美国人，我爱讲话，我是作家”——这一切可爱而陈旧的感觉。请想象自己被塞进一个身份的小盒子里，却反而体验到自己的无限。

I wondered, "Why have I been chasing happiness my whole life when bliss was here the entire time?"
我纳闷地想：“我为何一辈子追求快乐，却不晓得极乐一直在这里？”

I don't know how long I hovered in this magnificent ether of union before I had a sudden urgent thought: "I want to hold on to this experience forever!" And that's when I started to tumble out of it. Just those two little words—I want!—and I began to slide back to earth. Then my mind started to really protest—No! I don't want to leave here!—and I slid further still.
我不清楚自己在这万物合一的氛围中漂浮多久，而后突然出现急迫的想法：“我想永远抓住这种经验！”这时，我开始跌了出去，只是两个小小的字——“我想！”——就使我慢慢地滑回地球。而后我的脑袋开始郑重抗议——“不！我不想离开这里！”——于是滑得更远。

I want!
我想！

I don't want!
我不想！

I want!
我想！

I don't want!
我不想！

With each repetition of those desperate thoughts, I could feel myself falling through layer after layer of illusion, like an action-comedy hero crashing through a dozen canvas awnings during his fall from a building. This return of useless longing was bringing me back again into my own small borders, my own mortal confines, my limited comic-strip world. I watched my ego return the way you watch a Polaroid photo develop, instant-by-instant getting clearer—there's the face, there are the lines around the mouth, there are the eyebrows—yes, now it is finished: there is a picture of regular old me. I felt a tremor of panic, mildly heartbroken to have lost this divine experience. But exactly parallel to that panic I could also sense a witness, a wiser and older me, who just shook her head and smiled, knowing this: If I believed that this state of bliss was something that could be taken away from me, then I obviously didn't understand it yet. And therefore, I was not yet ready to inhabit it completely. I would have to practice more. At that moment of realization, that's when God let me go, let me slide through His fingers with this last compassionate, unspoken message:
这个绝望的想法每重复一次，我就感觉自己穿越一层层幻象掉落下去，好比喜剧动作片主角从屋顶掉下来的时候砸进十几个帆布篷上一般。我跌回徒劳的渴望，再次回到自己小小的边界，封闭的凡间，有限的漫画世界。我看着自己像一张立拍立现照片显像般地回到凡俗，一个瞬间、一个瞬间清晰起来——脸出现了，嘴角纹路出现了，眉毛出现了——好，显像完成：照片里是正正常常的故我。我感到一阵恐慌，失去此种神圣体验，让我有些伤心。然而恐慌的同时，却也感受到一个目击者，一个更明智、更老练的我，只是摇头微笑，心中明白：倘若我认为此种幸福状态可从我身上夺去，那么我对它显然还不了解。因此，我还未完整居住其中。我得多做练习。在了解了这一点瞬间，神放我走了，让我从他的指缝间滑下去，给我最后这则慈悲、静默的信息：

You may return here once you have fully come to understand that you are always here. Eat, Pray, Love
只要你完全了解自己始终在这里，就回这里来吧。