Thicker than Water: A Memoir

by Kerry Washington

I was learning to seek peace in the comfort of a higher power, rather than in the endorphin spike of compulsive bingeing, or the numbing results of abusive starvation, or even the false belief that all would be well if I could attain whatever body I had come to believe was perfect. I was beginning to embrace the idea that surrendering to a power greater than myself, a power I was starting to refer to as “God,” was a more reliable pathway to peace than the pursuit of perfection. Everywhere I turned in India, God—and the many forms in which God manifests in the Hindu tradition—was present. From the phrase most used to greet others—“namaste,” which translates to “the God in me salutes the God in you”—to the altars in every home, business, and even on the sides of the road, God was in all things. God was in people, and places, and situations that took me out of my comfort zone—the language, the food, the culture, and most especially for me, in the deep traditions of centuries-old movement and performing arts.