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March 30, 2008

Jai guru deva om

Sweet dreams, darlin’

WORDS ARE FLOWING OUT

like endless rain into a paper cup
They slither wildly as they pass, they slip away across the universe
Pools of sorrow, waves of joy are drifting through my open mind
Possessing and caressing me…

HAVE YOU EVER

been sung to sleep by a beautiful man? I went to bed early, 1:15 a.m., and I need help falling asleep; I can’t seem to do it by myself. So I slide my laptop out from under the pillow where a man’s head would typically lie, and set up a continuous loop lullaby of American Idol heartthrob Michael Johns singing “Across the Universe,” a simple song sung simply by a simply beautiful voice, permeating the darkness.

Images of broken light which dance before me like a million eyes,
That call me on and on across the universe
Thoughts meander like a restless wind inside a letterbox
They tumble blindly as they make their way across the universe…

Instead the tune will accompany me as I compose this column, because thoughts meander like a French poet on an endless dérive, stumbling blindly as he makes his way across the universe. Like footprints in the sands of time, these are the nights of my life…

Sounds of laughter, shades of life are ringing through my opened eyes,
Inciting and inviting me
Limitless, undying love which shines around me like a million suns
It calls me on and on across the universe…

LEGEND HAS IT THAT,

per Wikipedia, one night in 1967, “the phrase ‘words are flowing out like endless rain into a paper cup’ came to Lennon after hearing his then-wife Cynthia, ‘going on and on about something.’” The phrase became the song “Across the Universe,” which includes the mantra Jai guru deva om. “The Sanskrit phrase is a sentence fragment whose words could have many meanings, but roughly translate to ‘Victory to God divine’, ‘hail to the divine guru’, or the phrase commonly invoked by the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi ‘All Glory to Guru Dev’ then the mystic syllable om, which is theoretically the cosmic sound of the universe and used by monks during meditation… Lennon referred to the song as perhaps the best, most poetic lyric he ever wrote.”

I might agree, but I find the paper cup image a tad awkward.

NOTHING’S GOING TO CHANGE MY WORLD

Now how does that follow the verse? I’m not sure what he means. Why won’t all these thoughts, words, sounds, this love, sorrow and joy streaming across the universe change his world? Hail to the divine guru!…Perhaps they affirm his world? His world can’t be changed because it will always be what it is, at any given moment. He is at peace.

“ACROSS THE UNIVERSE DAY”

happened on February 5th of this year, when the song was transmitted into deep space aimed at the star Polaris (431 light years from earth), to commemorate the 40th anniversary of the song, the 45th anniversary of the Deep Space Network, and the 50th anniversary of NASA. Coincidentally, the Beatles’ Transcendental Meditation guru Maharishi Mahesh Yogi died that same day. I was not one of those fans who played the record at the same time, creating a truly harmonic convergence.

”WATCHING THE WHEELS”

is Lennon’s poignant depiction, a sort of apologia, of life after the Beatles. I regularly hear his voice in a refrain of, “I just had to let it go,” like the angel in my ear. The devil wants me to cling, to stay tied down. But no, I’ve become expert on letting things go. Cities, jobs, men, friends, houses, things, delusions. I even used the phrase in a letter to a friend. “I don’t have the emotional stamina to mend and maintain this friendship. I just have to let it go.”

SOMETHING’S GOING TO CHANGE MY WORLD

Now I’m letting my flat go. And moving on to—what? I don’t rightly know. To where? Across the universe? Another line, from a friend’s email, has been resonating through my mind like the echo of a bell.

NOTHING ON THE PLANET KEEPS LIFE MORE INTERESTING
THAN A SMART MAN WHO’S A GOOD LOVER.

As I pack up my life, as I change the cat litter, as I laugh with a friend, the words lap my mind like waves on the shore of consciousness. I have to pay serious attention to this assertion from a woman who love, love, loved her late husband. It’s become a mantra. “A smart man who’s a good lover.” If this were the Mars of “The Martian Chronicles,” that man (an imposter Martian) would appear before me instantly, meeting my every expectation and need.

Czar of Noir Eddie Muller once got down on one knee on the stage of the Castro, and sang happy birthday to his wife, to audience accompaniment. How many of you have had that happen to you? Even if I were married for 20 years, that would still sweep me off my feet. Nice move, Eddie. She had come on stage pretending to be a volunteer from the audience to answer some questions about the Noir Festival. She was a difficult interview and an exasperated Eddie cracked, “Why did I pick you?”

INDEED, WHY AND HOW DO WE PICK OUR MATES?

Mine would travel across the universe to find me. He would sing me to sleep, or send me sailing across the universe. Of course he’d have humor, edge, irony. He’d love classical, world music, jazz and lying in my arms watching films. As long as I’m building him to order, he’ll be a Bach freak who can build a house with his bare hands, and a Jack Kerouac-resembling writer, with a lock of black hair falling over his forehead. But if he goes out on the road, he goes with me, and we both write about it.

A critic wrote, of the film “Across the Universe, “falling in love with a movie is like falling in love with another person. Imperfections, however glaring, become endearing quirks once you’ve tumbled.” A smart man who’s a good lover, with endearing quirks galore–somewhere, the outline of this man, this fuzzy idea, is taking shape.

SEARCHING ACROSS THE UNIVERSE

for smart men I would consider excellent husband material (age and actual marital status irrelevant for this exercise), my mind lands first on actor David Straithairn. I like everything about the guy. His brains, his looks, the roles he chooses, the work he does, his unassuming but impressive bearing. The minute you lay eyes on him, you know the guy is the real thing, sharp and strong. He attended Ringling Bros. Clown College and clowned around for six months with a traveling circus. I would visit him on the set, bring him a decent lunch.

I could also marry Steve Martin. He’s a white fox and a good writer, sensitive to nuance, and would keep me laughing. I remember a line in “Shopgirl,” “The Serzone [antidepressant] was a gift from God.” How does he know that? I wondered. How would he know to put that in a young girl’s head? Because he understands. Serzone, however, made me throw up. He would pick banjo as I shell peas on the porch.

ALSO MARRIAGE MATERIAL

is violinist Gil Shaham. He’s got the violin thing going, dark old-world looks, and just seems simpatico to me. Bonus family points: his father is an astrophysicist, his mother a cytogeneticist. He debuted at age 10, entered Julliard at 11, and once flew to London to fill in for Itzhak Perlman on the Bruch and Sibelius concertos, on one day’s notice. I was impressed with the wonder with which he could address the William Schumann concerto, having already mastered it. I would write in one room as he plays in another. I would go to all his concerts. Life would be a constantly surprising delight with standing ovations.

(If you haven’t heard, Brian May, guitarist with Queen, who did my favorite guitar riff of all time, at the end of “We Will Rock You,” is also now an astrophysicist and chancellor of John Moores University. The front page of the Liverpool Echo read, “No time for losers, coz he is the chancellor!” You will, you will rock me, Doctor!)

I JUST HAVE A THING

for actor Dan Futterman. I’d seen him in various roles here and there, Sex and the City, the trippy “Urbania” and the like, and was then blown away when I learned he wrote the screenplay for “Capote.” He was perfectly cast as Daniel Pearl in “A Mighty Heart.” Bonus points for family of New York intellectuals. Next time he does win the Academy Award for Best Screenplay. I’m there with him wearing Jean Paul Gaultier’s “Prince de la Nuit” gown and fingerless leather opera gloves. I might convert to Judaism.

Another can’t-miss choice would be a good friend of mine, who shall remain nameless, who would minister to my every musical whim (and has). I would awaken to Bach and buckwheat. (No cause for alarm, my dear!)

A jumble of these men, tossed together and shaken, not stirred, will be a smart man who’s a good lover. And he will, he will rock me! We’ll see what materializes. That’s it for now. After all, I’m in bed with Michael Johns at the moment.

“IT ISN’T BY GETTING OUT OF THE WORLD

that we become enlightened, but by getting into the world…by getting so tuned in that we can ride the waves of our existence and never get tossed because we become the waves.”

That’s Ken Kesey in Over the Border.

I NEEDN’T SEARCH

across the universe for anything. Nothing’s going to change my world. It’s all right here.

“Life,” as a Martian once put it, “is its own answer.”

I wish you waves of joy. Jai guru deva om!

Now I can sleep.

My husbands David, Steve, Gil, Dan and Mystery Man (across a parallel universe)

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Short Attention Span Poetry Corner

Like shallow wavelets tickling my feet
An idea swims into being
Don’t know what it is just yet
I only know it’s there

Must go deeper in to figure it out
But never learned how to swim
I’ll wade till I’m uncomfortable
Then dive in with a prayer

Under the water I’m startled to learn
I can move right along with the waves
It was easier than I’d ever dreamed
No reason to be scared

This brave new oz of emerald green
Would have been lost to me
Had I stayed on the beach and played it safe
Had I not taken my own dare
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A smart man is good to love.
3/30/08

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