After Joan Didion’s husband of 40 died, she wrote a book called, “The Year of Magical Thinking.”
She wrote it in loneliness and ironic sadness. It wasn’t just that her husband had died, but also, her only daughter was in the hospital close to death, also. Within two years she lost her husband and daughter.
Alone in her New York apartment, Didion went about her altered life in the only way she could.
By writing about it.
Didion is a masterful writer. She and her husband, also a writer, had a Hollywood life. They write and hung with glitterati, schmoozed the movie moguls, wrote screenplays and big piece magazine articles, books, etc. Didion, also wrote essays. She is known for her un-glassy-eyed look at her life’s landscape.
I read “The Year Of magical Thinking” when it first came out.
Fortunately, I have not gone through the loss of Nick, my husband, but I certainly have thought about the “what ifs,” and how or if I would go on living.
Maybe it is my dramatic flair or the need to think of things before they happen so that in some, banal way, I am prepared.
But I know, I will never be prepared. Not for Nick’s death, the death o one of my kids or grandkids.
It would slam me like it did Didion. And I believe that the only way I would get through it , besides being loved, is through writing.
I don’t know how many of you have lost a spouse or a child or grandchild, or someone else who played a massive role in your daily life.
Other than what I have said, I am not going to write about neath. It is Monday. Nobody should talk about death on a Monday.
We are going to talk about “Magical Thinking” and how to use it in our lives.
I am most happy when I have a good mix of my “La La Land” and semi-reality. There are too many poopheads messing up the purported “real reality” so I suggest that you don’t spend much time there.
Recently, I have been way too much in the reality of neighborhoods and people.
I can only do that so much or I get drained and boring and begin manifesting.
There are people who get their energy by being with people and socializing.
Recently, I have tried to make myself one of them. You know, the smiling, dodo dodo girl so that people will like me.
Holy Shitzu … what was I thinking?
I am only good when I am me.
That came to me while walking up and down the aisles of Walmart, yesterday. For a while now, I have misplaced myself between the toilet bowl clears and the bathtub scrubbers.
All it took was that moment of clarity to see what I had been doing.
Frankly, I am not necessarily a fitter-inner. I think I want to, but really, I don’t. I am not a good sheep. I am a sheep herder. I prefer to lead … into pastures of joy, roads less traveled and into various levels of mischief and controlled chaos … oh, and hysterical laughter that can be brought on by totally inappropriate comments. Oh, I like shenanigans, too.
I like Magical Thinking. I don’t want to see the world as it is all of the time. I prefer to create my own world, and when I don’t. ugh.
I create my own world by magical Thinking. I dream. I lighten my life by wondering about things that I can’t even possibly do, other than in my mind. You wouldn’t believe how many stages I have performed on, who I have sung and performed with … how many Olympic competitions I have won, or how many love affairs I have had.
(Oh, get off my back about the love affairs. They are just little movies in my mind.)
But lately, as I said, I have lost myself from seeing so many ne people move into the neighborhood … and become parts of my daily life.
So … I am playing a game with myself. You can play your version of it too.
For a month, I am going to concentrate on Magical Thinking. I am going to dream big, picture myself in different scenarios. I am going to make each day have some magic in it. I might include others in my magic, but probably not. I think people need to make their own magic.
It might sound ridiculous, but today’s magic might involve sitting in a chair in our backyard, looking out at the woods behind our house, gazing at the trees that are starting to change color. I am having the urge to fly. Not in a plane, just fly. I might think of that. Instead of thinking about how I have been missing my family and friends, I will magically bring them here in my head. I can do that, you know. I can have them all with me, hear them laughing and talking. And I will think magically about the good in my life. The love. My abilities. And even my deficits, because they are part of what makes me who I am.
Yes, a month of Magical Thinking.
Maybe that is what the whole world needs.