The idea of Bobbi
“Everything Is an Idea,” I wrote in a post.
This post applies that idea, “Everything is an Idea.” to Bobbi.
Bobbi is an idea.
Who is Bobbi?
What does that mean?
Who is Bobbi?
My wife's name is Bobbi Wolf, and my ideas of Bobbi are based on her.
Her parents gave her the name Barbara Eva Bush.
She changed her first name to “Bobbi” in boarding school.
She took the surname “Wolf” when we married.
She lived more than two-thirds of her life as Barbara Eva Wolf or, to her friends, Bobbi Wolf.
(She was never happy being a bush. I referred to the Bush→ Wolf transformation as a “kingdom upgrade.”)
But that doesn’t answer the question.
Who is Bobbi?
Is vs Was and What’s in a Name?
Because of January 27, some might say that instead of “My wife’s name is Bobbi Wolf…” I should say something like “My wife’s name was Bobbi Wolf.”
And instead of “Who is Bobbi?” I should ask “Who was Bobbi?”
I disagree.
“Being dead” does not deprive Bobbi of her name.
If her name was Bobbi, it’s still Bobbi.
As evidence I offer the Monty Python sketch. It’s not relevant to the point that I am making, but funny, which is relevant to the greater message.
So maybe “My deceased wife’s name is Bobbi…”
But “deceased” is an unnecessary modifier. There isn’t another wife around. And there isn’t going to be one.
So “my wife” is an unambiguous description.
‘till death do us part?
Some might argue that the “‘till death do us part” clause of the marriage ceremony has some bearing on the circumstances.
Nope. Wrong on two counts.
That clause was not part of our self-written ceremony.
Fuck death.
She is my wife. Not was, is.
Bobbi is the name she chose.
And that’s that.
Back to ideas
Bobbi was full of ideas. Some of those ideas manifested themselves in her books, some in our children, and many have manifested themselves in whatever I am. (Stay tuned for a post on that.)
Bobbi got a PhD in Mythological Studies with an Emphasis in Depth Psychology at Pacifica Graduate Institute. She wanted to understand mythological ideas and incorporate them. in… what?
Incorporate, my writing assistant ChattyG tells me:
…comes from the Latin "incorporare," which means "to form into a body" or "to embody.”
Bobbi embodied many things. Wisdom. Love. She incorporated myth into her view of the world. And she incorporated myth in her books.
Ideas of Bobbi
Are there many “ideas of Bobbi?” Or is there just one “Idea of Bobbi.”
I’ll say yes to both.
Even if you have never met Bobbi, you have at least one—based on reading this.
I have many ideas of Bobbi.
The less you know Bobbi the more blurry your ideas will be. Most of my ideas of her are vivid and full of life.
Since January 27th, my ideas of Bobbi have grown in number, power, clarity, and beauty.
Or is there just one Idea?
The Laws of Ideas
This post is about Bobbi, but it’s also about ideas. Becuase everything is an idea.
This meditation on Bobbi/ideas leads me to start to formulate what I will call the “Laws of Ideas.“
The First Law is: “Everything is an idea.”
The Second Law is: “Ideas are independent of form.”
The Third Law is…well, that will go in another post.
There’s also a Zero'th law. Which has come to me, and which I will come to later.
Ideas are independent of form.
My first encounters with Bobbi were intermediated by the ideas of Scientology. I saw Bobbi as a Being. The Being I saw was separate from “her mind” and “her body.”
Another way of saying it: I saw the idea of Bobbi.
Over our years together, I sometimes forgot to see her as a Being, which sometimes led to trouble. But when I remembered, she reminded me, or I reminded myself, then everything that was less than Being dropped away.
I like one of the frameworks of A Course In Miracles (ACIM) that distinguishes between content and form. (Thanks to Zorina for reminding me of this.)
Bobbi’s body was a form—a nice one, but ultimately, just a form. Bobbi is the content, the Idea that expressed itself in that form.
The world that most of us see and talk about is a world of form. But that’s not the real world.
If you can find a way to look past the form, you’ll see a world of ideas. This is not some new-age woo-shit. Look past the form and you’ll see the ideas.
In the world of form, Bobbi is gone—because the form is gone.
In the world of form, Bobbi is dead.
Fuck death.
Fuck the world of form.
There is also the world of ideas; in that world, I live, and Bobbi lives.
“So do I,” says this post. And so it does.
Celebration of Life
Our wedding ceremony began with these words, “Today, we celebrate life.”
Our family plans a “Celebration of Life” in July with Bobbi in mind. Those will probably be the first words spoken at that celebration.
Bobbi’s form will not be present—unless you count ashes. I don’t.
But the ideas of Bobbi will be there because ideas are independent of form.
And I hope you have a better, sharper, clearer idea of Bobbi after reading this post.
There are many ideas of Bobbi, but there is only one Idea.
And its name is also Love.
Is was is?
Meta meta as you do. I love my mom and I love you. Hey, that rhymes.