“Words are flowing out
Like endless rain into a paper cup
They slither while they pass
They slip away across the universe”
– The Beatles, Across The Universe
I was listening to John Lennon sing this song early this morning, well before the light caught up with me, on the noise-cancelling headphones I’d normally wear on a plane traveling to drown out the roar and the chatter. At home during the magic hour when nobody else is up but me there is no roar and chatter, making the headphones a bit of overkill, but they still have a way of bringing you into the room with the artist singing to you. And this morning I hung out with Lennon for a bit.
I suppose I was inspired to revisit The Beatles and John in particular after re-watching the movie Yesterday, well, yesterday. But it was inevitable that I’d come back to them. They always come back to me, or maybe I return to them. It doesn’t matter which, really, just that it happens. And I came back to Across The Universe just as I’ve been thinking about something I said a few days ago about writing. It’s not an original thought, mind you, but I always write with it in mind. Writing this blog is a catch and release for me. I catch the words that the muse offers me and release them to the universe the same day. It’s my way of practicing the art of writing every day, on an admittedly eclectic and wide-ranging mix of topics, and publishing it soon thereafter. And now a few of you are reading it, a few more will find it someday, and the words slip away across the universe.
I’ve visited The Beatles Museum in Liverpool, the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in Cleveland, and the Country Music Hall of Fame, Patsy Cline and Johnny Cash Museums in Nashville within the last six months. Each offers their own bit of magic and nostalgia, but for me nothing resonates like seeing the handwritten lyrics on some old note paper that an artist jotted down while dancing with the muse. What once were words coming to mind for the artist became a song the world knows by heart, and that paper forever marks the moment ink met paper and captured the words.
I know the world isn’t going to know by heart some clever phrase I believe I may capture and release in this blog, but I capture the words and release them anyway. Someday I’ll be gone – say a long, long time from now, and the blog puts a few words out there in the universe that came through me. Well, as long as I pay the annual fee anyway. I believe I just bought my words another year. So universe; there’s still time.
Thanks of reminding me of this great song. Memories of sitting alone in my parent’s living room on the floor with this record playing on the Magnavox console. Jai Guru Deva, Om.