Spring, 1968: Death of Martin Luther King, Jr.

Anais writes that she became "hysterical" when she heard the news that Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated on April 4, 1968.

She writes: "Could not bear the cruelty, the horror of it. Knew what a deep wound it would cause the black people. I never espoused a cause, but the cause of the black people affects me deeply. I joined the vigil for Dr. King at Pershing Square in Los Angeles. That death was full of tragic meaning, humanly and politically. That it could happen was to me the darkest moment of American history."

Winter, 1967 - 1968: Playing Ostrich

Anais Nin is busy:

 - she is nominated a daughter of Mark Twain

 - her books are taught at Queens College in a course in avant-garde literature

 - she is invited to lecture at the Library of Congress

- her work is translated into French, German, Italian, Swedish, Danish, Flemish, Catalonian, and Japanese

Her life in L.A. is very conducive to working - it is peaceful and serene, and there are few interruptions.

Her life in New York, on the other hand, leads her to "play ostrich" at the end of the day. All she can do is drink wine or beer or take a sleeping pill so she can sleep and have enough energy for the next day.

Fall, 1967: Liberation comes from within

Anais Nin writes this line in her diary in reference to the idea that Japanese women marry American men in order to be liberated. But of course, this does not liberate them. It's the same concept as saying, when I accomplish some future thing (get married, lose weight, graduate, move to a certain place, get that job), I'll be happy. Liberation, like happiness, comes from within, and it starts right now. The same is true for the opposite - feeling of loss of freedom, unhappiness - they also come from within, from an attitude, a way of thinking. You get a handle on your mind so that your thoughts contribute to the life you want to create. Not talking about the things that drag you down takes the focus off those things so you can switch your attention to positive things. You can chose, you can decide to be a Tigger instead of an Eeyore.

Summer, 1967: Tahiti

Anais Nin visits Tahiti, where "what predominates is the caressing atmosphere, the scent of tiara flowers, the tinkle of shell necklaces, the beauty of the brown women. The atmosphere unties your nerves, opens the pores of your skin so that you feel like a flower opening in the dew."

People have a need to dream, to hope, especially when going through a rough patch, it is helpful to dream about a place you've visited or hope to visit. You can transport yourself out of your current experience, if only for a few moments.

Spring, 1967: Freedom in America

Anais Nin writes, "The freedom in America is an illusion. Transplanted from Europe, I was fully aware of the opposite of freedom in the air, so much Puritan disapproval, so much of the spectator and the voyeur, watching one live and jealous of those who live. So much negative criticism, so much hidden hostility, like the hostilities of old maids locked in small towns who sent poison pen letters and persecuted lovers. A sin to look inward, they feel, and yet that is why there is so much loss of identity. A sin to be personal, and yet that is why there is so much loneliness and alienation."

I am surprised she felt so much Puritan disapproval, living in New York and L.A., but I am not surprised she felt negative criticism, hidden hostility, loss of identity, and loneliness in these urban centers. So many different people, trying to get along in the world, ending each day at home to eat, drink, watch TV to escape the hustle, bustle, wear and tear of the city, feeling bored and lonely, waking up to do it all over again the next day.

January, 1967: Just Not Interested

In this entry of her diary, Anais Nin writes, "But tonight I could not communicate with people. There are times when the world I created and its personages seem more vivid than the ones before me."

She goes further to say, "There came a time when Proust was no longer interested in life itself, but in completing his work. Have I reached this point? Or is this an intermittent watertight compartment in which I find myself only when the people are not congenial?"

Does this happen as one grows older? Anais is about to turn 64 years old. She is finally enjoying life as a famous writer, along with the notoriety she has dreamed for. She's become very focused on finishing the editing and publication of her diary before she dies. Everything else has lost its importance.

What if, like many people her age, she didn't have this work to complete, nothing to drive her? Is this when depression sets in? Anais herself has battled with depression, even though she has enjoyed an interesting life, mixed and mingled with interesting people, been a writer with a self-created schedule and life. What would she feel like if she just had a normal life, a usual existence, like most people have?

Winter: 1966 - 1967: Anna ees

Anais Nin opens volume 7 of her diary with: "At a lecture I am asked to pronounce my name three times. I try to be slow and emphatic, "Anais - Anais - Anais. You just say 'Anna' and then add 'ees,' with the accent on the 'ees.'"

If you live in a watertight compartment of your self-created world, you may complain of loneliness she says of her friend.

In the 1930's Anais was more interested in passion than in intellect, more interested in love than in psychology. Now in the 1960's she can look back on her life as a composite, which is revealing its purpose and meaning. Passion and love, intellect and psychology, they were all part of her life, all part of who she has become.