My Walk with the Beatles

One of my goals during this season of Lent is to work on my interior landscape, which sometimes means getting out of my head. I go to the YMCA. I take my iPod Shuffle on which I have compiled a rousing playlist from the Beatles who do a very good job of starting me slow and elevating the pace incrementally. They talk me through things. They work it through with me and  help me land on the place where, baby, I can drive my car.

Hear is a glimpse into a typical conversation:

They say, Because the sky is blue it makes me cry.

I say, Yes, the sight of a blue sky can make me cry. That means I’m human, yes?

They say, Because the wind is high it blows my mind. We are all human after all, even you.

[I reflect.]

Then they say, I ask you, girl, what you want to be?

I say, Baby, can’t you see? I wanna be famous, a star on the screen.

They say,  Can’t you do something in between?

I say, Such as?

They say, Baby you can drive my car. Better yet, drive your car. Buckle in, put it in gear and drive it.

I say,  Beep beep’m beep beep, — yeah

[They reflect.]

I say, Little darling, it’s been a long cold lonely winter.

They say,  Here comes the sun, here comes the sun!

I say–No! Stop saying that! How many times have I thought the sun was coming  and —bah! There came the rain!

They say, Sun, sun, sun, here it comes!

I say, Little darling, it feels like years since it’s been here. In fact, I sometimes think  it’s never been here! Sometimes I think I’m seeing it for the first time!

They say, It’s all right, little darling. The smiles [are] returning to the faces — yours too.

It’s all right, I say. Yet sometimes it is better not to focus on the sun. Some times it’s better to try to see it through only the next hour.  Set incremental goals. Don’t go straight out for the ultimate reach. There is so much yet to reclaim before getting to the sun.

They say, The sun always comes. Sun, sun, sun, here it comes!

I say, Yes, little darling, the ice is slowly melting.

They say, it’s all right.

[We reflect.]

I say, What about that revolution? You say you want to change the world!

They say, We all want to change the world.

I say, You say you got a real solution? Well, you know, we’d love to see the plan.

They say, We’re doing what we can. They pause, then say, Don’t you know know it’s gonna be alright — alright, alright.

Alright, alright? I say.

They say, Alright, alright — Alright, alright– Alright, alright.

I say, Let’s take a sad song and make it better.

They say,  Don’t be afraid. You were made to go out and get her.

I say, Who?

They say, The minute you let her under your skin then you begin to make it better.

Me? I say. Who? Who makes it better?

They say, Anytime you feel the pain, — refrain. Don’t carry the world upon your shoulders.

I say, I still don’t know who I am supposed ‘to go out and get.’

They say, You know that it’s a fool who plays it cool by making this world a little colder.

‘Go out and get her’? — Do you mean me?!

They say, Remember to let her into your heart. Then you can start to make it better.

Me? Myself? You’re saying that I should look for her, meaning me? And that when I’ve found her, I should go out and get her?

They say, Let it out and let it in, hey you — begin! Are you waiting for someone to perform with? Don’t you know that it’s just you, hey you, you’ll do. The movement you need is on your shoulder. 

It’s me I need?

They say, Then you’ll begin to make it better better better better better better — nah nah nah nah nah nah nah nah nah yeah, you.

About Wendy Murray

Wendy Murray is a veteran and award-winning journalist. She served as associate editor and Senior Writer at Christianity Today magazine and has written extensively for other publications such as Books & Culture and The Christian Century. She has written 11 books.