Thursday, October 20, 2011

Daylight Is Good At Arriving At The Right Time

Yep. Definitely chilly today.
I realized last night as I laid down in the bed that my dream world has become important to me in a way I can't really describe. I never ever know where it will take me but it always takes me.
Last night Lily was in labor and I was running around with no shirt on or bra either. Bare-chested. No one seemed to mind too much but when I realized it, I was embarrassed.
I woke up before a baby came.

Before I went to dream world, Mr. Moon and I sat and watched the Martin Scorsese film about George Harrison. I had forgotten how much he did. I had forgotten the pure haunting beauty of his songs. He was, in fact, the quiet Beatle. He was a beautiful man.
At the end of the film, his wife said that when he died there was so much light that anyone filming it would not have needed any other light.
He lived a very spiritual life, George did. And yet, he was as human as you or I.
It gave me a lot to think about and Mr. Moon let me hold on to him so tightly for hours.
That is what I needed.
And it was given unto me.

Well, here's the trailer.

And I am remembering being sixteen years old and lying in a hospital bed and being so close to the edge of this life and that that there were times when I wasn't sure which side of the line I was on and being awake all night, my body wracked with chills and pain and how the song All Things Must Pass would go through my head over and over again and somehow, in some way, George Harrison may have saved my life and here I am forty some odd years later, remembering that, feeling it viscerally and it helps even now as I go about this day here and now.

The dream world, the memory world, what we perceive as the "real" world- all of the worlds swirl together some mornings and this is one of them.
I took my camera out to take note of the world I woke up into and here are some pictures of this life I was lucky enough to grow up to live.

This is what the sky looks like- that blue. Well, the picture does not do that blue justice. It is bluer than that. Trust me.

A few of the great and massive branches which shelter my world.

And a hen on a nest. Could there be anything more prosaic? Could there be anything more symbolic of life? There is the chicken and there is the egg. There is the blue sky and there is the light. There are the branches which grow from the biggest live oak I think I've ever seen which is rooted in the dirt, which sprang forth itself from an acorn.

I believe that what gives All Things Must Pass its most intrinsic beauty is that fact that Harrison doesn't just promise that the bad things will pass away- all things, he says, will, and knowing this as we do, we believe him, we believe that yes, daylight is good at arriving at the right time.

This is one of my favorite hymns.
It will be going through my head today as I walk on this ground, these boards, as I deal with this corporal world of chickens and dirt and food and my grandson. As I tend to myself as the light slowly but surely arrives again.

All things must pass, all things must pass away. And as they do, the good and the bad, the lightness and the gray, we are sustained in many ways.

I am grateful to have been reminded last night of some of them as I watched that film, as my husband held me, as I cried silently, over and over again. It was like a dream but at the same time, as real as salt and water, as real as the man who had lived and who now has died and yet, lives forever through his words, his music, his great, good, quiet soul.


  1. I try to live by that mantra -- that all things must pass -- but sometimes the passing is phenomenally slow.

    Love to you on this day.

  2. I am glad you have Mr. Moon to hold you.

  3. Ahhh lovely. My favorite...those eyes...
    thanks for posting this.
    it's a beautiful life Ms Moon.

    we watched Babies, you'd love it.

  4. there was a time in my life when i thought that my dream life was the real life and my waking life was the dream, that when I thought I was awake, I was really asleep. I still think my dream life is real life, just not the one I'm anchored in currently.

  5. Oh, I never heard of that before. Thank you.

  6. I love your photograph of the Spanish moss as I believe they call it in your tree. I had never heard this song about things that must pass. As Elizabeth says: sometimes the passing can go so slow...

  7. George...the quiet man. This is when I wish I had HBO but I will have to wait till the film is released on Netflix for me to see.

    I was always into Paul but when the album "All Things Must Pass" came out I was blown away by his lyrics and songs. It spoke to me in a whole new way.

    His passing like John, was a loss to music...many others too, but when you grew up with the Beatles it was MAGIC for me.

    I am so glad Mr. Moon held you...the comfort of love.

  8. Beautiful, beautiful clips. Thank you. I can't wait to see the movie. George wrote some of my favorite Beatle tunes and I love his solo stuff, too.

    I'm glad your world is light-filled today. Keep enjoying that gorgeous sky ~ it's blue like that in our town today, too.

  9. ah lovely, thank you.
    I have a mantra that I use that is similar and helps me through:
    "Not always so."
    love and hugs.

  10. When I am in the dark pit of despair, I realize that this too shall pass. It has helped me so many times. He was a good fellow, that George.

  11. And it was 17 years ago today that I was 16 and put in a bed, in pain, chills, morphine dreams... and you gave me the album All Things Must Pass and I listened and I held on. Thank you. Thank you Mama and thank you George.

  12. Oh May, I'm so glad you held on. And now I'm going to listen to that song again!

  13. Mary, I've just reread this post and listened to All Things Must Pass (for the fourth time) and must tell you once again how your writing astounds me. Thank you so much for this beautiful tribute to George and for reminding us of this simple yet profound truth.

  14. My Dear Ms. Moon,
    George would call your life a success, I am pretty sure.

    I adore George, too. John and George were MY Beatles. My Beatles are dead now. That makes me so sad. BUT THE THINGS THEY DID WHILE THEY WERE HERE! Oi vey.

    I almost signed up for HBO just to watch the documentary, but I couldn't afford it this month. I am hoping to rent it or buy it when it becomes available.

    I love you, and I thank God for you every damn day. I mean that.


  15. When my father committed suicide he didn't leave a note but had two albums for their songs sent to the house ... I Can See Clearly Now, Johnny Nash

    and My Sweet Lord .. the quiet good soul of George.



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