Alexandersmap

    Tag: The Beatles

    • Life is Conditional

      Can you hear me?
      That when it rains and shines
      It’s just a state of mind
      Can you hear me?
      — The Beatles, Rain

      Up and out early this morning for all the wrong reasons, the rain was pouring down in sheets. Hydroplaning was an issue, and the ride out and back again was stressful. Rain and driving is completely different from rain and sipping coffee while listening to it tap on the roof and windows. Place matters when it rains.

      So too does state of mind, as John Lennon reminded us in one of my favorite Beatles songs. Our attitude is everything, in all things. Can you hear me? Well, most everything. The rain doesn’t care a lick what our attitude is, and we ought to be grounded in reality if we hope to thrive (or survive) the current circumstances.

      Amor fati (Love of fate). Life is conditional, after all. We don’t have to love the weather or the people currently in power or the performance of our favorite sports team, but we should accept it for what it is. This is our fate. Denial is a prison sentence for the weakest of minds. Accept what is and decide how to react. Rain or shine, whatever will be will be. The question is, what are we to do now?

    • The Optimism of a Future Hello

      And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make.
      —The Beatles, The End

      I’ve always been a streak hitter. I find something that works for me, do it as best I can, and repeat it the next day. Habits are formed, identity is voted upon with action, expectations are set that what was will always be. The world might fall apart, but hey, we are still here, doing this, as we’ve always done. Like lilacs blooming in May, some things are predictable, and surely comforting.

      Writing an average of 400 words per blog post, I push out my thoughts, quote a poem or ramble on about stoic philosophy or the state of the garden. The site itself is a hot mess of bad formatting, but the words are mine. Sometimes I tell myself to fix this thing and make it shine, but really, I like it fine the way it is.

      And every day I tell myself this will be the last post and I’ll take a break. No grand announcement that this is the end, simply an Irish goodbye. To say something meaningful (if only to me) and exit stage left. And perhaps this will be the end, or a pause, or maybe I’ll just pick up right where I left off once again tomorrow. Nomads don’t say goodbye, they say, “until we meet again”. That expression is not an ending, it’s the optimism of a future hello. And doesn’t that feel better than “goodbye”?

    • Somebody Spoke

      Woke up, fell out of bed
      Dragged a comb across my head
      Found my way downstairs and drank a cup
      And looking up I noticed I was late
      Found my coat and grabbed my hat
      Made the bus in seconds flat
      Found my way upstairs and had a smoke
      And somebody spoke and I went into a dream
      — The Beatles, A Day in the Life

      They say that when we win the morning, we win the day. I say winning the morning is easy—it becomes hard as soon as the rest of the world wakes up and begins to have a say in how our day goes. That’s when the day gets away from us. That’s when our best intentions meet reality. Ever notice that everything was groovy for Sir Paul singing his song until someone interrupted his flow? Boom! Back to reality. Oh boy.

      If discipline equals freedom, then we can wrestle control back in our days with a structured schedule and focus on a daily routine. Easier said than done, but we are the ones who set the borders on what we will and will not do. That’s a cute line, isn’t it? Tell that to someone taking care of their young children or aging parents, or rushing home to let the dog out before she pees on the rug.

      The consequences of a full life are that we no longer control every decision in our days. Some choices are made for us by the choices we made in the past. It’s the price of fullness. So own it and work around the edges. Nobody said livin’ the dream would be easy. But who said easy was what we ever really wanted anyway?

    • Learn How To Be You

      “Nothing you can do but you can learn how to be you in time.”
      — The Beatles, All You Need Is Love

      Learning to be you is delightful. It’s also occasionally painful. We learn and grow and stretch ourselves beyond what is comfortable and learn from that and the cycle repeats ad infinitum.

      As Aristotle put it, we are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act, but a habit. One workout won’t transform our bodies any more than one book or poem or old Beatles song will transform out mind, but each can be the first step on a journey of transformation.

      Learn how to be you…. in time. It’s the time invested walking the path that is transformative. Sorry—no quick fix. And that’s the whole point. We’re meant to figure it out as we go.

      Consistent action in the direction we wish to move towards matters far more than one bold leap. Sure, the leap is thrilling, but it’s just the bold start. Embrace the grind after the leap, knowing it leads to something more still. Something we build ourselves.

    • Showing Up

      The hardest day in a new workout routine is the second day. You’ve hit it hard on day one, felt that sense of accomplishment, and then get up the next morning a bit stiff, with lactic acid buildup and a hundred reasons why you should wait just a little while before you get back to that routine. This is the day when you’ve got to show up and push through it, no matter how it goes. Showing up is where committed identity is established.

      The thing is, the results may be pretty ugly. My day two was humbling and embarrassing to post, but it’s one workout in what should be a steady climb to better. What does it matter if we don’t set a PR on day two? I’m not rowing in the Olympics, and the dog walking team hasn’t called me just yet. All that matters is the streak, and you can’t get to day three without getting through day two.

      We are what we repeatedly do. That’s the only success formula that matters in a lifetime. The reason The Beatles were so prolific in the relatively brief time they were a band was because they showed up and did the work. When they slid into a distracted fog they fractured and broke up. The analogy isn’t any different for us. We must show up and do the work that calls to us, every day.

      I was talking to one of my favorite writers a few days ago and she told me she hadn’t been writing lately. I reminded her then (and now, I suppose), that writers write, every day. It’s the only way to avoid atrophy. It’s why I publish this blog every day, and check a dozen other important boxes every day. We must show up, if only to keep a promise to ourselves. There’s nothing worse than a dysfunctional relationship with our inner voice.

      Easy for me to say, right? I’ve already established the habit. But that’s just one part of a routine that is always a work in progress. We never quite reach excellence (arete), do we? All we can do is try to move closer. The rubber hits the road when we gently put our excuses on the nightstand and rise up to meet the moment.

    • Our Best Work

      “I want to see your best work. I’m not interested in your new work.” — Jerry Seinfeld

      A couple of days ago I read a newsletter that contradicted Seinfeld’s quote about. The writer premise was that one should accumulate readers, and the best way to do that was to always have the newest and freshest content up top. There’s merit in this, I suppose, if your newest and freshest content is your best work. In a perfect world where we continue to evolve and grow as artists, this might be true. I don’t live in a perfect world, do you?

      Based on average likes per day, my greatest hits collection plays far better than most of my current work. I’m not exactly Joan Didion or The Beatles, we surely agree, but they too had work after their greatest hits that didn’t peak as high. It’s natural for us to have peaks and valleys in our creative work, while climbing ever higher. Some peaks we’ve previously attained rise above where we currently are. This is either an albatross or a simply a milestone. I haven’t broken 6 minutes on a 2000 meter erg piece since my early 20’s, but that doesn’t stop me from rowing. It should be the same for our creative work, don’t you think?

      The thing is, we all want to see our best work emerge from whatever it is we’re working on. We aren’t here to waste time, we’re here to do something with our time. That something ought to measure up to the greatness we aspire to. When it does, it tells some small percentage of the world, but mostly ourselves that we’ve done something bigger than we previously thought possible. That becomes something to build on, whether we reach it again or not.

      When we accumulate a body of work, some of it will naturally rise to the top. The aspiration, it seems, is to reach a higher plane, where consistent greatness resides. But don’t trust me on this one, for I’m merely a work in progress. Best to find out for yourself and let me know.

    • A Simple Salut Will Do

      Some words, like salut and aloha, mean both hello and goodbye. It reminds me of the nonsensical lyrics of the Beatles song, catchy tune that it is, but which blathers on endlessly about goodbyes and hellos. A simple word that means both is rather handy, don’t you think?

      My daughter flew home from across the country, making for a lovely hello, and will join me today in saying goodbye to friends and fellow bloggers Fayaway as they set sail for warmer waters. Goodbyes are rarely as fun as hellos. Isn’t it better all around to say; “until we meet again” Then again, a simple salut would do in all such circumstances.

      Hellos and goodbyes are simply placeholders that bookend moments together. We dance on the floor of life for this moment and go our separate ways for awhile. Perhaps we’ll see you out here on the dance floor again sometime. It’s lovely to believe it so, isn’t it? Life is what we make of it, and relationships are very much in line with that. There are people who have lived on the same street with me whom I haven’t seen for more than ten years. And there are people I’d fly across the globe to visit for a couple of days.

      Seeing Fayaway in faraway places seems likely and offers poetic possibilities. Yes, I like the elegance of the french “Salut” in such moments. And today I think it might do.

    • George Harrison in Four Songs

      George Harrison passed away twenty years ago today, on the 29th of November, 2001. So soon after 9/11 it made the moment feel like the universe was piling on a bit, for George—the quiet Beatle—was the one I identified with the most. In these last twenty years I’ve come to appreciate his work even more. So on this anniversary of his passing, here are four of many extraordinary songs from George Harrison’s solo career:

      Give Me Love (Give Me Peace On Earth)
      Give me hope
      Help me cope, with this heavy load
      Trying to, touch and reach you with
      Heart and soul
      … My lord

      A regular on every upbeat, joyful playlist I create, this song makes you feel glad to be alive. And that’s not unusual with George Harrison songs, for he made the most of his time on this Earth. You can easily say he was the most spiritual Beatle, trying to find meaning in this crazy world we live in and turning that search into songs of celebration and fellowship. My Sweet Lord is another example of this spiritualism exploration, and the two often end up on the same playlists.

      Behind That Locked Door
      Why are you still crying?
      Your pain is now through
      Please forget those teardrops
      Let me take them for you
      The love you are blessed with
      This world’s waiting for
      So let out your heart please, please
      From behind that locked door

      I’ve heard that George Harrison had a collection of ukuleles and loved playing them. This is a beautiful song for that particular instrument, and you feel George drawing a smile out of you even on your darkest days. Such a quietly delightful invitation out of your protective shell and back into the world.

      What Is Life
      Tell me, what is my life without your love?
      Tell me, who am I without you by my side?

      Sure, you can interpret this song a couple of ways. Is the relationship between two people in love or between a person and God? You might even consider that this was the first album released after The Beatles broke up, and it can mean something else entirely for you. It’s whatever you want it to mean, and it sticks in your brain for the catchiness and clever lyrics.

      All Those Years Ago
      We’re living in a bad dream
      They’ve forgotten all about mankind
      And you were the one they backed up to the wall
      All those years ago
      You were the one who imagined it all
      All those years ago

      George’s song about John Lennon, written after he was murdered in New York, celebrates the bond between the two lifelong friends even as it pointedly dismisses those who profited by knocking them and others down. These lyrics still stand out as we deal with a rise in nationalism, racism, and profiteering as the world struggles to reverse climate change and bring about positive and inclusive social change. John would have been a loud voice in the conversation today, and I suspect George would have been right there shoulder-to-shoulder with him. As he was all those years ago.

    • Thoughts on Get Back

      You and I have memories
      Longer than the road that stretches out ahead
      – John Lennon/Paul McCartney, Two of Us

      Watching close to eight hours of the creative process as The Beatles hash through two album’s worth of material in the Disney+ series Get Back was fascinating and informative. Fascinating as a lifetime Beatles fan watching these four guys work through songs you know by heart from the first basic notes to the arrival at magical songs that became so essential to your own life’s soundtrack. Let It Be and Abbey Road songs developed before your eyes and ears. Informative as you see four guys on the edge of breaking up, still pushing through with the work.

      They knew who they were. The Beatles were the biggest band in the world, the biggest band that ever was, and they recognized that what they released mattered a great deal. That must in turn be both an enormous burden and a cattle prod to get to it already. But then you had this other dynamic at work, with each of them building their own lives, four egos growing increasingly independent of each other. Paul deeply involved and at his peak creatively, pushing for more contribution from the rest of the Beatles. John nonchalant and locked in on the ever-present Yoko. George rising to a higher level and chafing at John and especially Paul’s perceived dismissiveness. Ringo showing up early, ready to go, watching things falling apart and trying to be the glue that kept it together just long enough.

      And then they started playing music preparing for their live rooftop concert. Originally it was going to be an indoor affair, maybe even some exotic location, but they wouldn’t have anything to do with that. They were tired and weren’t going to leave the country for a show, nor were they going to do the same old thing they’d done before. There was a captured moment when they told Paul about the rooftop idea and his eyes lit up, “That’s it!” all over his face.

      Growing up with The Beatles larger than life, you tend to stick each of these four young men into a bucket, representing something in your mind. But each turned out to be much more than you thought they were. Get Back reminds you of this. They were just four guys with a special chemistry that became a force of nature. And you see that as they jam together, mastering the new songs and plucking old ones out to play. Playing music together is when they rose to be The Beatles again. And the room filled with joy.

      They had memories that were longer than the road that stretched out ahead. Together for over 14 years at that point, they were about to break up and go their separate ways, still competing and trying to one-up each other for years to come. But John would be dead in just less than 12 years. This was their famous final scene as a band, something the viewer knows all along. We find ourselves wishing they’d snap out of it and focus on the work a bit more. Squeeze just a little more brilliance out of their time together. But in the end celebrating what they did give us.

      And maybe turning a bit of the spotlight back on yourself, recognizing that you could be producing more too. For if there’s a lesson in Get Back, it’s that even the most brilliant magic starts off as an awkward tune in your head. Put yourself into the work and see what grows from it.

    • The How of Things

      “We humans live in two worlds. First, there is the outer world of appearances—all of the forms of things that captivate our eye. But hidden from our view is another world—how these things actually function, their anatomy or composition, the parts working together and forming the whole. This second world is not so immediately captivating. It is harder to understand. It is not something visible to the eye, but only to the mind that glimpses the reality. But this “how” of things is just as poetic once we understand it—it contains the secret of life, of how things move and change.”
      – Robert Greene, Mastery

      You might read a paragraph like the one above with the eye of a scientist, seeing the truth through the lens of composition of matter and chemical reaction and such. You might read it through the eyes of a politician or businessperson, immediately grasping the backroom deals and favors that occur well before the headlines catch the attention of the public. Or you might read it with the eye of an artist, seeing the structure of the words themselves and how they spin magic in their unique assembly on the page. There is indeed poetry in the how.

      There’s a light that dawns when you see this other side of things, this secret sauce of how and why things are the way they are. Lessons learned through experience and intelligent observation and time invested in the questions of how. Some people receive the gift of a curious mind early in life and immerse themselves in the wonder of how, but most of us are too dazzled by the sleight of hand to focus on how the magician does the trick.

      There’s magic in the how. Watch Paul McCartney at a mixing board isolating bits of a Beatles song and you learn the intricate composition and experimentation that went into crafting it. The magic seems to sparkle on the surface, but it’s much deeper than you might hear in a first listen. The final product is an illusion built on layers of sonic novelty and gumption. The joy lies in discovering things you missed the first dozen times you heard a song.

      The magic lies in the mix. What we see on the surface is only the tip of the iceberg. Dive deeper into the how.