Grief and Beautiful

My problem was I had too much beautiful.

Too beautiful, too fulfilled, lived in beauty, raised in beauty, and was too self-satisfied to make any kind of real sacrifice.

I was too beautifully fulfilled to bother with anything of substance beyond hollow praise and easy come, easy go positive self-reinforcement.

I thought I had it all.

It’s dark and I’m searching for my wine bottle.

Who am I hiding from?

Is the denial of grief like a ship docked on dry land for too many days?

Am I afraid that grief is such a deep well that if I look into that well, I will falter?

Am I alone at this depth?

Joan Didion on Her New Memoir ‘Blue Nights’ — New York Magazine.