Yesterday

The Beatles came at the beginning of my formative years.  I have older siblings so there was other music introduced to me before the Beatles.  I liked some of their earlier stuff but never quite got into the screaming, hormonal condition of so many fans.  Previously music was not so much about the lyrics for me as it was about the notes.  Playing an instrument in school gave me the opportunity to feel into the music itself.  There were lots of songs I sang around the house, singing parts with mumbled sounds when the words escaped me, dancing with the record covers in my hands so the words were close, and then there was one song whose phrases just stuck.

“Yesterday ”

All my troubles seemed so far away,
Now it looks as though they’re here to stay,
Oh, I believe in yesterday……

There’s a shadow hanging over me,
Oh, yesterday came suddenly.

I knew this was about a love gone wrong but that is not what I heard or what struck me deepest.  I was 12.  The concept of love that had come and gone was non-existent.  I hadn’t been bitten yet!  It was the concept of ‘Yesterday’.  How it was a specific time in space.  It wasn’t just about memories.  It marked events.  It could mark you.  It carried a “Danger, Will Robinson, Danger sign.  It became a rite of passage for me.  “Yesterday all my troubles seemed so far away.”  Yet there was another aspect to Yesterday.  It could change today and tomorrow.  It could return to haunt you or drive you further.  It was something to be reckoned.  It could stop you.  You could get stuck in it.

Allowing yesterday to determine your identity left you stuck and only partial of the self you were.  It does become a shadow, casting out the light of today, the mist of tomorrow, holding you captive.  There is an art to turning yesterday into today.  It isn’t an art only open to lyricists, painters, and writers.  Oh no, it is available to all who want to live to the fullest possible self.

As others fell deeper in love with John, Paul, and George I fell to pondering their lyrics and those of others.  I took to analyzing all songwriters as my world grew.  What were they doing with these lyrics?  Where they writing with a higher energy bringing metaphors and symbols to waken me, stop me in my tracks, push and pull me when I grew tired, or were they just singing what I felt deep inside.  There were some genres I did not resonate with no matter how often I listened.  Some music struck me but the words repulsed me.  It was those who wrote with the same cadence of essence as “Yesterday”.  The same mysticism in the lyrics of that song appeared in other songwriters.  It was those songs that stuck a chord deep within me.  A chord that cautioned me on miring myself deeper when I should be moving forward.  Years later I can still feel that mark of time, that essence of those simple lyrics whenever it is played.

Music played its secondary roll of fun, stages, and road trips all through my life as it does for all of us.  I can dance for hours, sing at the top of my lungs completely out of tune, joyous in the moment every time I hear music.  It brings back days of youth, special occasions, love won and lost but it is the mysticism that holds my soul.  It is the timelessness, the universality and connectedness.

Awake your soul!  Let Yesterday be yesterday!

Y

 

 

 

Xylophone

xylo tree branches

Once upon a time in a world far, far away there lived a tiny xylophone.  His world was filled with many trees and special rocks.  No one spoke and not a sound was made.  Every day he woke and looked up through the trees to the bright blue sky.  He hoped that one day he would find another tiny xylophone just like him.  Days and weeks passed still no one came.  The silence sat heavy upon his ears.

Early one morning a limb fell from the tall oak above him nearly hitting him. Angered by this sudden disruption the rocks gathered around the limb edging closer to tiny Xylo.  Unable to move he tried desperately to make himself  tinier than he could ever remember.  Fearing he would be hurt by the rocks anger he kept very still.  Barely breathing and hoping soon someone would come find him.

Xylophone

Days flowed into nights for Xylo.  He watched closely as the rocks and fallen limb danced in confrontation.  Unable to find an escape from them he decided to settle down and watch.  The daily bickering created smaller lengths of wood from the limb.  There was much chaos that created sounds that both repelled and drew him closer.  Fearing he would be injured in the altercations Xylo hung back.  The rocks continued their assault on the limb breaking more pieces and severing them into smaller pieces.  As night grew dark Xylo fell sleepy, unable to keep his eyes open, sighing he settled into his corner.

The rocks drawing strength from their bravery advanced for a final battle hoping to push the limb completely out of their area.  Xylo exhausted from fear closed his eyes and slept.  The scuffling of the rocks lulled him deeper.  Swaying with the noise he noticed a tiny tingling sound joining the scuffling.  Unable to determine its origin, he slept on swaying to the rhythm of the sounds, heading into dreamland.  He dreamt he was a mighty xylophone tall as the trees above him and solid as the rocks.  He knew his destiny in the dream.  Grasping for anything to make this dream real he determined that no longer would he be frightened by anything that surrounded him.  He determined that when he woke up he would grow to be the best xylophone he could ever imagine and then some.

What dreams are you reluctant to grasp and live?  Go out and exceed your expectations!

X