The Diary of Opal Whiteley

Our imagination is the instrument of knowledge.” Opal Whiteley

Opal claimed to be the daughter of Henri, Prince of Orleans but, after a tragic accident, she was taken to Oregon and adopted by Ed and Lizzie Whiteley. Her new family was poor and she grew up around lumber camps where her father often worked as a lumberjack. Opal’s mother, maybe flustered by Opal’s uncommon behavior, use to beat her. And maybe it’s for this reason that Opal focused on nature.  She studied flora and fauna collecting 1000s of specimens of plants, insects and rocks carefully documenting all of them.  Because of her incredible knowledge of natural history, Opal became known as the “Sunshine Fairy”. Eventually she left home and supported herself by teaching young adults about natural history.

The Diary of Opal Whiteley

Opal wanted to published a book about nature, The Fairyland Around Us, and met with the publisher of “Atlantic Monthly” who, once he learned that Opal had kept a diary as a child, wanted her diary and not her book.  The diary, written with crayon on found paper such as that of grocery bags, had been torn to pieces by one of her sisters and was now just a bunch of fragments stored in a hat box. Like a puzzle, Opal put the pieces back together after months of work. The reunited diary, featuring a photograph of her with her butterflies, was published and became a huge literary success.

 The Diary of Opal Whiteley

The extremely unusual diary described Opal’s rapport with nature.  She named animals after artists and characters in European novels. Her pig, for example, was called Peter Paul Rubens.  Opal named trees, too. Whenever she was sad, she’d go to her tree, Michael Raphael, for comfort.

The Diary of Opal Whiteley

But then the accusations began. There were those who said the whole “childhood diary” story was a fraud and that Opal had written it as an adult. And when journalists began writing that Opal had family in Oregon and was not, as she insisted, the daughter of Henri, Prince of Orleans, she was considered wacko and dumped by the public. To escape the torments of all the criticism, Opal began to travel around the world.  For awhile she stayed in India until a scandal surfaced regarding her not so proper relationship with a guru. So she was forced to leave and went to London were she  totally cracked. Found starving and living in a crumbled building surrounded by books, in 1948 Opal was committed to a psychiatric hospital. Subjected to electroshock treatments and probably a lobotomy, if she wasn’t crazy before, she was afterwards. Opal was institutionalized until her death in 1992 at the age of 94.

The Diary of Opal Whiteley

Even today the controversy about Opal continues. Was her story true or was she a schizophrenic who, unhappy with her life, had created an alternative reality.  Or was she a neurodiverse female suffering from Asperger Syndrome?  Or was she simply a victim of shattered dreams?

Opal is buried in London’s Highgate Cemetery not far from the graves of Charles Dickens, Karl Marx, and Samuel Taylor Coleridge.  On her tomb is the inscription: “I spake as a child.”

Quotes from Opal’s diary:

The Diary of Opal Whiteley

The Diary of Opal Whiteley

The Diary of Opal Whiteley

read OPAL, A LIFE OF ENCHANMENT, MYSTERY AND MADNESS by Katherine Beck online free HERE Archive.Org

Bibliography:

McQuiddy, Steve.  The Fantastic Tale of Opal Whiteley. http://www.intangible.org/Acrobat/FeaturesPDF/Opal.pdf  Retrieved from internet 19/09/2016.

Whiteley, Opal. The Story of Opal, The Journal of An Understanding Heart. The Atlantic Monthly Co. Boston, 1920. http://www.gutenberg.org/files/43818/43818-h/43818-h.htm  Retrieved from internet 19/09/2016.

Whiteley, Opal and Hoff, Benjamin.  The Singing Creek Where the Willows Grow:  The Mystical Nature Diary of Opal Whiteley.  Penguin Books. 1995.

The Diary of Opal Whiteley website …Opal Whiteley (1897-1992)

[from THE DIARY OF LUZ CORAZZINI]

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Post-It Day

Post-it Day

Post-it Day

Post-it Day

Post-it Day

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Entangled

Sometimes I'm Here, Sometimes I'm There

Sometimes I feel fragmented like a part of me is here and another part of me is there.  Nevertheless, I remained connected because I’m, you know, entangled.

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Springtime Spaghetti for the Fall

Springtime Spaghetti

My neighbor, Rod, told me I could raid his lemon tree. Immediately!  Mr. Wolf then made this incredible pasta dish for the spring even though it’s September!

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Making friends with a book

With so many people in the world, why should anyone ever be lonely?

he fed her birds

Ona Vitkus was a 104 year-old Lithuanian living alone in Portland, Maine. As a part of a community service project, an 11 year old scout went to her house every Saturday to do small chores which included feeding her birds.  The boy, maybe somewhat autistic, was fixated with the number 10 and Guinness world records. He’d even convinced Ona to aim at a world record herself—that of being the oldest person alive.  But then the boy unexpectedly died. One in a Million Boy by Monica Wood is a book that makes you want to cry and smile simultaneously. It tells the story of how two people, Ona and the boy’s father, Quinn, with apparently nothing in common save the boy, become friends. Who knows  how many Onas and Quinns are out there just waiting to become friends, too.

One in a Million Boy

Maybe people are lonely because they haven’t learned how to be with themselves and with others simultaneously.  It’s a problem of interrelating. But reading literary fiction can help. The identification with fictional characters can make us more empathic. Because reading why characters do what they do gives us an awareness that we can take into the real world.

If I were a book, would I be easy to read?

Jeanne Calment is listed in the Guinness Book of Records as having been the oldest person ever recorded.  Born and raised in Arles, France, she lived to be 122 years old.  In 1888, while working in her father’s fabric shop, Vincent Van Gogh came in to buy canvas. She described him as being dirty and disagreeable.

Jeanne Calment & Vincent Van Gogh

On her 120th birthday, Jeanne is quoted as having said: “I only have one wrinkle and I’m sitting on it”.

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