Make Believe - 033

Skydiving painting by Gregory Manchess

 

CHAPTER ONE: Fiction is Underrated

"Think of whoever wrote your first good book...

I’m talking about the one that got under you like a magic carpet and lifted you right off the ground.

Do you know what I’m talking about?”

That's a line from a book I just finished. Lisey's Story is my 10th Stephen King book and the fourth one just this year. I wouldn't have guessed that I'd be flying through so many books this year. But having to feed a newborn a few times a day, I sit for hours. Lately, I'm listening to a lot more fiction.

Fiction is contagious. I pass it on and tell Golda and Abe made-up stories. We talk about what it's like to be a butterfly and imagine that tree branches are brooms or wigs. We discuss the lives of the fairies that live inside the holes in the tree by our house.

Just this week, Golda said to me, "Dada, when I was a doggie my name was CloudyWoofWoof. And one time, I jumped on you and your glasses fell off but they didn't break. And I licked your face because I love you."

Fiction is underrated.

I used to think fiction was a waste of time – books are for learning, right? (Funny enough, we never feel that way with movies or TV). Fiction is art. And the best art is not always real but it is always entertaining, and honest and reflects something about ourselves.

A business or history book is often so much less relatable in its relationships, case study stories, emotion, or expressive language than a monster story or make-believe world.

I love that word. Make-Believe; two verbs that together make a noun.

Pretending something is true is about making us believe something unreal is real.

Let's jump into the world of pretend and make (you) believe.

 
 

CHAPTER TWO: Schrödinger's Nap

Some quick background before a short story:

In 1935, a physicist named Erwin Schrödinger created a thought experiment in a conversation with Albert Einstein, about a paradox of quantum mechanics.

Without getting into the physics, the oversimplification is: A cat and a flask of poison are sealed into a box. The flask could shatter and kill the cat...or it might not. To open the box would reveal the cat is alive (the poison, even if spilled, would dissipate). But without opening the box to see, the paradox is we have to assume that the cat is both alive AND dead.

That's how I feel about having a 2 month-old.

I put Abe down to sleep with the door closed. It's quiet. He is napping? He is wide awake but calm?

If I open the door, I will either wake him up and he won't be napping, or he won't notice and be sound asleep.

Right now he is both asleep and awake at the same time.

 
 

CHAPTER THREE: Dangerous Ideas

"I’m thinking about writing a book" I remember saying to a friend.

Some big idea with questionable motives and uncertain commitment. We all do it...thinking we should go back to school or start a podcast or learn Spanish or have a baby. Good idea? Hard to tell.

Well...let’s start define what an idea is. If we think about an idea as a seed, we imagine that growing into a beautiful tree. Suddenly, we’re caught up in daydreams swinging from branches and sharing the fruits with our partners and grandkids. It's got a sturdy trunk with lush branches that cast shade in which we’ll lay and live and love.

Oof, that is one sexy tree.

So now back to the book. Or grad school. Or whatever big idea.

We often climb metaphorical trees without thinking about the years of time, the hours of sweat labor, and the precise care that went into its growth.

Of course it’s the dream of the fruit that motivates us to care.

It is the vision of the tree that fuels the work of the seed.

It keeps us up late at night and wakes us up early to go back to the studio, to pick up the pen, to buy another notebook, and keep going.

But we can't forget about all that messy work that transforms an idea into a thing. Because if you want me to swing from the branches, and you want to sell me on the shade and the fruit and the initials I carved into its trunk, talk about the shovel and the watering can, too. Tell me about dirty hands, sweat, and sore knees.

Then I'm in.

Because without those, there is no tree. 

 
 

CHAPTER FOUR: Adults with Imaginary Friends

The biggest change that happens in the second month of parenthood is the isolation.

Month one is full of check-in texts and requests to visit and gifts arriving from family friends you forgot about.

Month two, everyone has moved on. Adrenaline has worn off. Sleeplessness compounds. That, plus the baby is still just a blob– no smiles, laughs, eye contact, hand-holding, or signs of reciprocation of love (or even interest). This non-reciprocal incessant doting makes for an interesting relationship.

It shows up when we check in with our other friends with kids...

Sometimes Lauren checks up on Ilana Glazer (from Broad City) who had a baby the same week as us.  We read into what Stassi and Brittany's (Vanderpump Rules) Instagram posts say about their new post-partum lives. We compare how Meghan Markle (Suits, The Former Royals) introduced her toddler to the newborn.

It's a phenomenon called parasocial relationships.

The feeling that we are actually have a friendship with celebrities and the people we follow on social media. We care deeply about the latest drama and "news" in their lives and Instagram, Twitter and TikTok not only give us a window into their lives but allow us to participate through comments. We feel involved.

In the last two years, so many of our real relationships have gone entirely remote. We haven't seen some of our family members or best friends in months or years. We've gotten used to maintaining our relationships via our apps.

So it can be confusing.

The lines are blurred on who we have actual relationships with.

In an age where we have imaginary friends as adults, we need to be asking ourselves what it means to be a friend. That friendship is not just a liking or commenting. But listening, a reaching out, helping, and offering ourselves.

I've spent the last two months building a one-sided relationship with my son. No responses, no rewards, no recognition of my existence. But knowing that it will change even next month with a smile and a laugh. And a year from now with some talking. And 5 and 10 years from now, more... it just starts right now with my giving my time, effort, and attention to him.

The rewards of partnership come from giving.

The deepest relationships we make are reciprocal.

 
 

CHAPTER FIVE: Hope in The Dark

Recently, there are days where I (have the privilege to) ignore the news.

It's overwhelmingly scary. The world feels like it's being split apart. Wildfires and hurricanes caused by the climate crisis. Taliban takeover in Afghanistan. Delta variant. Anti-vaxxers. White supremacy. There's still a presidential recount happening in Arizona?! These are things that can feel like there is no end in sight and problems we have no way to fix.

And the truth is, we can't.

Not only are the problems of the world so uncontrollably large, but our lives have become impossible to plan. It leaves us with literally nothing to look forward to. So the pervasive feeling many of us have right now is hopelessness.

In such dark times, any semblance of hope starts with having an imagination.

If we can envision a future that is better than it is right now, then we can start to have hope.

If we can hope, we can motivate ourselves to work towards that future.

Then maybe that fiction can turn into our future reality.

I hope.

...

Thanks, as always, for taking time to read these.

I hope something here got under you like a magic carpet and lifted you right off the ground.

I love hearing your thoughts and what resonated (and what didn't quite feel right).

Just reply. And if you have a friend that would like these, feel free to forward it.

The End.

Jake

Hey it’s me again. One last thing. In case you don’t want to get these emails anymore, no hard feelings. Just click here to change your settings.

 
Jake Kahana