January 4, 2012 § 73 Comments
I know! Why don’t I visualise a new husband? A lot of people talk about visualisation, swear by it even. Nice and simple solution way of conjuring up a husband, no?
You hear about those with cancer picturing a shark chomping away at their cauliflour-like tumours and, hey ho, miracle cure!
Well, whatever works for them, I guess, but I don’t think so. Me? I happen to believe, more, in conventional medicine, and that if visualisation “works”, it is rather more in the line of coincidence than any calculated images of Jaws himself piling into malign and sprouty lumps.
Just my opinion.
But if it were that easy, surely we’d all be visualising away, all sorts of things, and living a Utopian fantasy to end all fantasies?
Luckily, no one has told me to visualise a husband into being, otherwise I might have decked them (that is a manner of speech: I am not a violent person in any shape or form), but the only thing I can visualise is all England populated by couples. I wonder, as in a childrens’ game, if I had magical powers and could see all the available men who speak English (I forgot to state that as one of my faintly crucial criteria because, call me old fashioned, I do rather rate communication in a relationship), whether there would be any, really? And I think possibly not?
My mother said that when she was a child, bored and cold on the school games fields, she used to wonder where her future husband might be at that moment and doing what? Well, it never occurred to her, then, to picture more than one. (She went on to have more than her fair share). There again, she wasn’t doing it as a means of achieving what she wanted; she was merely wondering and imagining. Nothing wrong with that. It is setting about this modern business of “visualising”, for the sake of getting, pulling off, gaining, achieving – whatever you want to call it – what is being visualised, that I find a load of bollocks.
Oh, let’s visualise away, shall we? Who do I see? Ah, that’s good, a sort of warm and fuzzy cliche of a person who incorporates the looks of Colin Firth and Dan Stephens, the wit and naughty twinkle of Dylan Moran, the intellectual fizz of a fellow of All Soul’s, the sexual oomph of… well, whomsoever it is who rings your particular bell etc, etc. Oh, yeah, right. That was a doddle. Now, it’s just the little matter of finding, meeting, attracting and ending up with just such a paragon. Or, shall we be a little more realistic, and visualise a nice, kindly, ordinary Joe in a job, with a good SOH, who looks more like cuddly Dara O’Brien, and hope for him? Nothing wrong with that.
Only, not even he seems to be materialising. Remotely. Not even as the vaguest, phantom-like shiver on the horizon.
Visualisation. One massive bollocks-a-thon.
If only it were that easy.