The night before she died, Joan Rivers performed at a club in New York and spoke these darkly prophetic words:
”I’m 81 — I could go at any moment, I could fall over right here and you all could say, ‘I was there!’”
She was off by only a hair”s breadth. And she was far too close for comfort. Yet as she riffed on death, death seemed a million miles away. One big joke. But the universe had other things in mind. Things for which Rivers failed to account. Like the fact that the power of Words is great, indeed, and not to be joked with. Unless it’s okay if the joke’s on you.
Coincidence? I don’t believe in it. Bad luck? I think not. Randomness, Chaos? Too easy. Too pat. A poor excuse.
Existence Vibrates, So Do Words
Existence is vibration. We exist, inside and out, of what we think, say, and do. Everything: you, me them, the street you stand on, the chair you sit in, the food you eat, carrots, chocolate, potatoes, and steak, the color of your shirt, boiling water, ice water, still water, the sound of music, pain, pleasure, birth and death. It’s all vibrating, moving, open and susceptible to our thoughts. Certainly to our words. Remember: First there was the Word.This is not witchcraft, or woo woo, or new age feel good. This is science. Go. Look it up. Go Check it out.
My Christian Scientist Aunt Warned Me
So we had best watch it. Watch what we think. What we say. Not be so cavalier. Not unless we’re disinterested passersby, alien presences in a world, strangely and invisibly connected. When I was a child my Aunt Roy, the Christian Scientist, insisted I not say “hate.” I thought she was being silly. It was only a word. As an adult, I see she was right. I stop myself when that word comes sailing out of my mouth. I try not to use it. For when I do, it reverberates in my consciousness for hours.
I wish that Joan had said something else. I wish for once she hadn’t been too big for her bloomers. Though I disliked her cruel edge, her craving for worshipful attention, I was in love with how she could make me laugh. She was smart as a whip. The best at what she did. And she did it easily and often.
Rest in peace Ms. Rivers. And the next time around, Please! May you draw the line when it comes to laughing out loud at death. Especially your own.