Whether picking it up because of the golden “O”prah seal while browsing the best sellers shelf or finally succumbing to a friend’s relentless insistence that this book be read, most women began Elizabeth Gilbert’s memoir Eat Pray Love without the expectation of a life-changing experience. Because, really, didn’t we all doubt Oprah after that Tony Morrison phase, and haven’t we learned that the friend gushes too easily about too many mediocre things? (i.e. Spanx, Dancing With the Stars, that new tapas bar.)

But when we found ourselves absolutely emotionally “in” by Chapter 2 and Googling possible ashrams to visit by book’s end, it was an unexpected epiphany — and an army of 5 million soul-searching women was born.

Committed to enlightenment, but bound by children and bank accounts to forgo a copycat pilgrimage, I counted down the months until I could freebase my fix of self-reflection in movie form.  But as any junkie knows,  it’s damn near impossible to recreate that elusive first high.

Ryan Murphy (Glee), God bless him, did what he could do.  He cast the high-priestess of chick flicks, Julia Roberts, as our Liz Gilbert and placed her amongst the luscious landscapes of Italy, India, and Indonesia.  While the actual location shooting delivers the sights and sounds that book readers wanted to experience – mounds of pasta with slow-mo Parmesan falling like snow, meditation chants among bejeweled Indian brides, turquoise ocean swims with gorgeous Felipe (Javier Bardem) – we quickly realize that the journey we most enjoyed was internal.