As for whatever other changes may have occurred within me during these last few months, perhaps I can't even feel them yet. My friends who have been studying Yoga for a long time say you don't really see the impact that an Ashram has had on you until you leave the place and return to your normal life. "Only then," said the former nun from South Africa, "will you start to notice how your interior closets have all been rearranged." Of course at the moment, I'm not entirely sure what my normal life is. I mean, I'm maybe about to go move in with an elderly medicine man in Indonesia—is that my normal life? It may be, who knows? In any case, though, my friends say that the changes appear only later. You may find that lifelong obsessions are gone, or that nasty, indissoluble patterns have finally shifted. Petty ir-ritations that once maddened you are no longer problems, whereas abysmal old miseries you once endured out of habit will no longer be tolerated now for even five minutes. Poisonous re-lationships get aired out or disposed of, and brighter, more beneficial people start arriving into your world.
至于我在最后几个月可能发生的任何改变，或许我仍未感受到。长时间学瑜伽的朋友们说，待你离开道场，回去过正常生活后，才能真正看见道场对你产生的影响。“那时，”南非的前修女说，“你才会开始留意到自己的内心橱柜已重新整理过。”当然，目前的我还不很确定什么是自己的正常生活。我是说，我可能即将搬去和一个印尼老药师住在一起——这可是我的正常生活？或许是。谁知道？无论如何，我的朋友说，转变的出现是之后的事。你可能发现终生的癖好一去不复返，或是那棘手困惑的模式终于改变。曾经让你发狂的芝麻小事不再是问题，而你从前惯于忍受的苦恼，如今连五分钟也受不了。有害的关系已了结，光明有益的人开始来到你的世界。

Last night I couldn't sleep. Not out of anxiety, but out of thrilled anticipation. I got dressed and went out for a walk through the gardens. The moon was lusciously ripe and full, and it hovered right above me, spilling a pewtery light all around. The air was perfumed with jasmine and also the intoxicating scent from this heady, flowery bush they have around here which only blossoms in the night. The day had been humid and hot, and now it was only slightly less humid and hot. The warm air shifted around me and I realized: "I'm in India!"
昨晚我睡不着。不是出于焦虑，而是出于殷切的期待。我穿好衣服，去庭园散步。月亮又大又圆，在我头顶徘徊，洒下白色月光。茉莉芳香扑鼻，还有夜晚才开花的花丛散放出醉人的芬芳。白昼湿热，此时的湿热只稍微减退。温暖的空气在我四周游走，使我意识到：“我在印度！”

I'm in my sandals and I'm in India!
我穿凉鞋，我在印度！

I took off at a run, galloping away from the path and down into the meadow, just tearing across that moonlit bath of grass. My body felt so alive and healthy from all these months of Yoga and vegetarian food and early bedtimes. My sandals on the soft dewy grass made this sound: shippa-shippa-shippa-shippa, and that was the only sound in the whole valley. I was so exultant I ran straight to the clump of eucalyptus trees in the middle of the park (where they say an ancient temple used to stand, honoring the god Ganesh—the remover of obstacles) and I threw my arms around one of those trees, which was still warm from the day's heat, and I kissed it with such passion. I mean, I kissed that tree with all my heart, not even thinking at the time that this is the worst nightmare of every American parent whose child has ever run away to India to find herself—that she will end up having orgies with trees in the moonlight.
我跑了起来，奔出步径，跑到草地上，冲过沐浴在月光下的草坪。这几个月的瑜伽、素食和早睡，使我感到自己的身体如此健康有活力。我的凉鞋踩在柔软湿润的草地上，发出嘘啪、嘘啪、嘘啪的声音，整个河谷只听见这个声音。我欣喜若狂，直朝公园中央的桉树林奔去（他们说从前有座古寺坐落于此，祭拜象头神——扫除障碍之神），我抱住其中一棵树，白日的高温使它依然温热，我热情地亲吻它。我是说，我全心全意亲吻这棵树；当时根本没想到，这是美国每个为人父母者心中最恐惧的事情：他们的孩子跑去印度寻找自我，最后竟然在月光下和树林狂欢作乐。

But it was pure, this love that I was feeling. It was godly. I looked around the darkened valley and I could see nothing that was not God. I felt so deeply, terribly happy. I thought to myself, "Whatever this feeling is—this is what I have been praying for. And this is also what I have been praying to." Eat, Pray, Love
然而，我感觉到的这份爱，是纯粹的爱，是神圣之爱。我看着四周幽暗的河谷，只看见神，感到深深的喜悦。我心想：“不管这感觉是什么——这正是我祈求的东西。也是我敬拜的东西。”