Today, I was reading a wonderful piece on Paul Daniels who sadly passed away recently. The article was part of an interview with his widow Debbie McGee. It was a very emotional and thoroughly beautiful story about how much they loved each other and how they dealt with his illness.
I alway remember watching the Paul Daniels Magic Show as a boy. The tricks and special guests were enthralling and kept me glued to our small Philips TV set week after week. It wasn’t just the big tricks, but also the small intricate illusions that fascinated someone who loved the tactile hands-on approach.
However, my anxious mind being the unsympathetic thing it can sometimes be, popped an unintrusive little thought into the back of my mind. It sat there for a while, completely unobserved until it registered.
As well as the feelings of sadness for the loss of a great man and the pain his family are feeling, there was another feeling. Being 41 years old, there was only 36 years until I was 77 years old like Paul Daniels.
This thought immediately upset me, because it isn’t like me at all. I was horrified that this was all I could think of in such a moment. I know that this is the way anxiety works, but this is another reason why I am determined to see this anxiety off and live every moment like it is the last.