I am constantly working on ways to deepen and nurture my spiritual life. There is no single thing, no magical breakthrough for me, no single thing I can point to that has transformed this process.
It is not one big thing, but many small and big things – self-awareness, meditation, authenticity, solitude, reading, thinking, praying, suffering the hard lessons of any life.
One idea is standing out for me in recent years, it is the idea: “let it be.”
I know this is the name of the last song Paul McCartney wrote for the Beatles, and I was playing the song over and over again for Maria in bed this morning.
But although this music spoke very powerfully to me today, it has a somewhat different meaning for me than it did for Paul McCartney, who wrote it. Still, it has a lot of meaning.
Let It Be was the last studio album recorded by the Beatles. The song is deep and powerful, something of a hymn now to acceptance, and it fits my own ideas about the importance of letting me be me, of letting things be.
Of surrendering to the serious of our powerlessness.
Let it be – the idea, not just the song, leads me to think and believe that I am all right, just as I am. I am learning to leave it there, to let it be. Radical acceptance, I think.
I listened to it the song on and off today.
“When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be
And in my hour of darkness, she is standing right in front of me
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be
Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be..” – Let It be, Paul McCartney.
For some years, I thought McCartney was referring to Mary Magdalene, but then I learned he was talking about a different Mother Mary. His.
McCartney explained in an interview that around the time of the looming Beatles break-up, he was frightened and insecure. One night, he had a dream about his mother Mary, who died when he was 14.
“And it was so great to see her,” he said, “because that’s a wonderful thing about dreams: you actually are reunited with that person for a second; there they are and you appear to both be physically together again. It was so wonderful for me and she was very reassuring. In the dream, she said, ‘It’ll be all right.”
And it was all right.
I’m not writing this as a Beatles fan, although I appreciate their music very much. In a spiritual sense, I am struck by the way in which this idea – let it go, let it be, accept one’s life – calmed McCartney and gave him strength and perspective. He was sad and he was frightened, but the message let it be allowed him to see past that and out to the other side of his anxiety.
I have often worried about my life, and the way I have lived it.
Today, early in the morning (I’m usually awake at 4:30 a.m.), I started thinking about the decisions I have to make. Could I raise the money I need for the Mansion? Can I live without my book contracts? Can I do right by the refugee children? The Army Of Good? Can I pay my $5,000 dental bill without driving up my credit cards? Can I age gracefully and well, and stay sharp and healthy? Will Maria be okay when I go?
Whisper words of wisdom, let it go, let it go.
These are common and widespread worries. They are often the things that keep me and lots of others up at night, that drives me to plan my life and pressure myself to take care of things, to make bad decisions, to control muy destiny. I think about them all the time, every day. I am not the only person in the world who worries about these things, just one of the few who writes about it.
Everyone has battles to fight, so many far worse than mine.
I am driven, and this can be a very good thing or a very difficult thing.
I have rarely found peace in my life, and have often battered myself to be better, do better, plan more, anticipate more, fear more. I have never really accepted who I am, and many people in my life have never accepted who I am. Perhaps the two things are connected.
My own spiritual path is forever taking me away from that way of thinking about me. Maria and I talk about this a lot. She had a rocky few days, as I did. I am learning to like me, and then, to love me, so that I may love others and so others may love me.
Let’s let it be, I said. Let’s just let it be, let it be, let it be. Let me accept me for who I am, not for who I was, or who I wish to be.
I will handle what I need to handle, and accept what I cannot handle, and what I need to accept.
It’s a new mantra of sorts for me, and it works.
I need to be my own Mother Mary, there is no angel from the past coming to me in the night to reassure me. But last night and today, and in the deep of the night, I was and am my own angel. I’m all right.
My search for acceptance is coming to ahead. I am accepting myself, a good place to start. It’s okay, I’ll be all right. And I felt a wave of great peace and calm come over me.
Let it be. I’m all right. Whisper words of wisdom: let it be.
And a nod to Paul McCartney, for helping to pave the way.
We of a certain age seem to suffer from the night time melodious tendency to allow the darkness to visit us both physically and metaphorically. My music man that soothes me on those hard nights is Sir Elton John. His journey through darkness and into the light inspires me and I can carry on. Thanks for sharing this.
Thanks Marty, I don’t see it as an aging issue…I sleep a lot better than I did when I was younger..Glad Elton works for you…
I have Let it Be tattooed on the inside of my left wrist. It’s an ever present reminder for me.
Beautiful post. Thank you.
Lovely post. I used to think that he was talking about Mary, the mother of Jesus. Many of us call Mother Mary rather than the Virgin Mary.