(you can also read the whole story, with commenter, here: http://catherinemcniel.blogspot.com/2007/09/i-just-turned-down-oprah.html

I just turned down Oprah.

Its true. Oprah's camera crew was ready to come out to my house. And it wasn't my first near-miss with Oprah either. Hear me out, then you can judge if I chose rightly.

Sometime last winter I read Elizabeth Gilbert's book Eat, Pray, Love. Actually I read it three times. I thought it was fantastic. I didn't agree with her all of the time, but I have a tendency to enjoy reading things I don't agree with. And I had many reasons for enjoying the book, one being her travels to India to study at an Ashram. Since I've been to, and loved, India, and since my self-imposed study of world religions was just kicking off, I enjoyed reading her comfortably-American-sounding description of discovering Indian ways of thinking as well as her tenacity towards becoming a person of devotion. This book remains in my mind a top read of 2007.

Around the same time my world religions tour began with Hinduism, and one of my goals for each religion was to read primary sources, to hear about each religion from within itself, and to speak with real people, in real settings whenever possible. (This strikes me as necessary for the integrity of the project - if a Hindu told me that he had studied Christianity, but had neither read anything from the Bible, nor spoken with any Christians, nor read any books by Christians, nor visited any church or place of worship, but had only read books written by other Hindus about Christianity, I would not consider him to really have been introduced to Christianity. But please do remember that I am embarking on this journey in order to understand, not to convert, and I recognize that this limits me from the start.)

So, as I devoured book after book on the topic, I sent feelers out looking for the real people/real places aspect of the learning experience. And I met a woman who knew some people at an Ashram not far from my home where she occasionally went to learn and experience. She invited me to come along, but I have not yet done so - this visit taking a great deal more courage and conviction than checking books from the library.

All this was in the background of my life, not foremost in my mind, when a friend emailed me a link to Oprah's website. On Oprah's site there is a page advertising upcoming episodes, allowing viewers to chime in. If an upcoming topic is one you'd like to be part of, you can submit your story to the producers via this web page. The page my friend emailed me stated that the author of Eat, Pray, Love was going to be interviewed by Oprah in the future, and asked for feedback from viewers who enjoyed her book. I filled out the online form and forgot all about it.

That was about two months ago.

This past week, a producer from Harpo called me on the phone. She was working on the Eat, Pray, Love show and was interested in what I had said on their website. She asked me a few questions about my experience with the book. She asked if I shared any experiences with the author, and I told her I'd been to both India and Italy as the author had in the book. She asked me if I'd ever been to an Ashram. I said no, but that ironically, I had been invited to attend and still hoped to at some point.

I didn't expect anything to come of this conversation, given my near-miss almost exactly a year ago. But the next day a different producer called me. He told me that they were touched by what I had shared, and intrigued by my interest in visiting an Ashram. He said he was in the process of pitching the idea of sending a camera crew out to capture my first visit. Would I be interested in this? "Ummm," I stammered. "With only about 90 seconds to adjust to the idea...I guess maybe."

We hung up, he to pull the necessary strings, and me to come to my senses.

As exciting as it would be to visit this place, as doubly once-in-a-lifetime exciting as it would be to be on national television, as exciting as it would be to take part in a show about a book I really enjoyed - I quickly realized there was no way I could actually do this.

I had no grievance within myself, with my own conscious. I knew exactly why I would be going, knew exactly what it did, and did not, mean to me. But Oprah is a pretty widely televised show, to say the least. And the purpose was not to tell my story. The pieces of my story that made the show would be used to tell Elizabeth's story. People I know, or used to know, or sort of know, all across America (and the world?) could possibly tune in, catch the episode, see my face, not understand, not hear from me, assume.

My faith is very important to me, and it is very personal for me, and it is very communal for me. I would be very happy to sit down with anyone who is interested, and tell them about the studying I've done recently, and why I'm dong it, and how that fits into the greater scheme of my faith and beliefs. But to communicate so publicly, so little information, with no control?

I called the producer early the next morning and left a voice mail. I apologized for any trouble I had created, said that as I'm sure he could understand, my spirituality was both very important to me, and very personal, and very accountable-to-my-community. I didn't feel comfortable with the national syndication.

He called me back, left me a voice mail in return. He assured me that he did understand. Then told me that he, and the other producers, and yes - even Oprah herself - believed it would be meaningful for viewers to see someone like myself, dedicated to faith, visiting a house of yoga and meditation. Meaningful. Spiritually helpful. Would I reconsider?

Yes. I can see that perspective too, and it appeals to me. But still, I would have no control, no way to make it my own story and explain why I was there, no way to know how it would appear in the end, no way to know what kind of ramification it would have on my life afterwards, or the lives of those who know me. No way to take it back. I left another voice mail and said no.

He didn't call back.

The show must go on. I was almost on television. I traded in fifteen minutes of fame to maintain a tiny bit of control over my own reputation and privacy.

What do you think? Did I do the best thing, for me?