On the street of villains taken for a ride
You can have the devil as a guide
And crippled by the boundaries, programmed into guilt
Until your nervous system starts to tilt
And in the room of mirrors, you can go for miles
But everything that's there is in disguise
Every word you've uttered and every thought you've had
Is all inside your file, the good and the bad
But in the rising sun
You can feel your life begin
Universe at play inside your DNA
And you're a billion years old today
Oh, the rising sun
And the place it's coming from
Is made of you and now your payment's overdue
Oh, the rising sun, oh, the rising sun
On the avenue of sinners I have been employed
Working there until I was near destroyed
I was almost a statistic inside a doctor's case
When I heard the messenger from the inner space
He was sending me a signal that for so long I had ignored
But he held on to my umbilical cord
Until the ghost of memory, trapped in my body mind
Came out of hiding to become alive
And in the rising sun
You can hear your life begin
And it's here and there, nowhere and everywhere
Though its atmosphere is rare
Oh, the rising sun
And the place that it's coming from
Is inside of me, and now I feel it constantly
Oh, the rising sun, oh, the rising sun
~ George Harrison
George Harrison was working on his last album, Brainwashed, after he'd been diagnosed with cancer. When he died on November 29, 2001, the album was not finished. His son, Dhani, and longtime friend Jeff Lynne (ELO, Traveling Wilburys) completed the album, and it was released almost one year later, on November 18, 2002. I remember this well, as one month after that, my husband also died of cancer. And, as coincidence always wants a seat at the table, Harrison died 29 years to the day that my father died. You would forgive me if I found this song to be sad and depressing.
But oh, the rising sun! This morning, the first day of our return to Standard Time, I was able to get back to my beloved park for a much needed return to my walking (and sometimes running) habit. And, as expected, the sun rose above the clouds while I was still on my first lap. It was glorious.
But my glee subsided as I rounded a curve in the path where it meets the road. There, stretching before me for two football field lengths was what appeared to be a landfill. Where there was once a field of Florida grass, speckled with flocks of ibis and little blue herons, there were now steaming mountains of soil and tree branches. And to make matters worse, mixed in with the natural refuse were random couches and plastic laundry baskets and broken chairs. It did not take me long to realize who was behind this aberration. Irma.
While I understand that the spoils of Irma had to be moved somewhere, and that, surely, this ugliness must be a temporary situation, it was a reminder of how quickly our natural resources can be compromised. Even when the work is done, and the new grass covers over the debris, I will never look at that field in the same way. I know what lies beneath.
George Harrison knew what lay beneath the cancer that claimed him, as well as the cancer that hovers over us all. And yet, facing his imminent death, he could still celebrate the rising sun and recognize that it resides within. Like the dawn of a new day, we get to start over. It's the universe at play inside your DNA.
Can you hear your life begin? Are you listening?
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