“Everything else can wait, but the search for God cannot”
— George Harrison
The greatest of us all, those whose actions seem inspired by an unbreakable resolve and carried out with unmatched passion, seem to hover at times, superhuman, above the rest of us. But, even icons share our mortality.
There is, undoubtedly, always a reminder served by their passing, whether it ends a life that saw fifteen minutes or a lifetime of fame. The day invariably arrives after which all that remains of the icon or the everyman are ideas articulated and love liberally shared with those around him.
This seemed obvious after stumbling across a Rolling Stone magazine, buried in a closet. I found myself staring at the quiet Beatle, his shadowy brown eyes peeking out from behind shaggy bangs, a look of unmoved content calmly resting on the page.
“If he had never played a note, I would have been so blessed to have him in my life”
–Tom Petty
Flipping through the pages, I realized this week marks a year since George Harrison’s death. It’s been a year since I stashed away the magazine, correctly thinking it would provide solace or inspiration somewhere along the line.
Harrison’s death was typical of a superstar’s in many ways — the candlelit vigils, emotional, publicized memorial services and an outpouring of positive sentiment. The uniqueness of his passing, however, came from the meaning people once again found in the treasures of his past — a long-forgotten lyric or yellowed, ancient interview. As the old remembered, the young discovered, both experiencing the grace and beauty of Harrison’s life.
“He was giant, a great, great soul, with all the humanity, all the wit and humor, all the wisdom, the spirituality, the common sense of a man and compassion for people. He inspired love and had the strength of a hundred men. He was like the sun, the flowers, and the moon, and we will miss him enormously. The world is a profoundly emptier place without him”
— Bob Dylan
I personally was introduced late one night on a Harrison tribute radio show to a scratchy demo of “Something.” It was an early recording of what was to become the greatest Beatles’ love song, featuring Harrison alone with only his guitar and the voice of someone both legend and man.
It’s haunting to hear the timeless anguish of George’s fragile voice, a voice that lingers in the soul. It’s no wonder Elton John called it “the song I’ve been chasing for the last 35 years.”
That it now lingers even longer, even after he’s gone, serves as a testament to the substance of his contributions to us all. A substance that shouted, even if Harrison conveyed it with a whisper.
“He wasn’t particularly quiet. He just didn’t demand to be heard.”
— Paul Simon
George Harrison spent much of his life telling the world there is a spirit inside us, no matter how sneaky or abstract it may be, and now he eternally reminds us of its presence in ourselves. His message was received by others because he discovered his own spirit, the soul inside that burns harmoniously with the power beyond.
One, 10 or 100 years after his death, Harrison’s spirit will live as long as it is used by others to explore their own.
Make a wish at midnight — maybe the spirit can make it come true.