Time, 2112, And Me

Something happened in 1977 on the eve of my 14th birthday. I was at my friend Jamie’s house and he said, “Listen to this.” It was life altering.

Of course, the dedication to Ayn Rand’s Anthem led me to the story. This is when the accusation towards Rush in general and Neil Peart in particular was of being fascist, Rand’s philosophy be controversial even then.

In fairness, in the interview and article, Neil did not come off great. But Neil was twenty-five, and for whatever reason, Objectivism appealed to him. I am not here to dispute that or even comment on it, except to say the fascist label was highly offensive considering Geddy Lee’s parents were Holocaust survivors.

But rugged individualism is filed away with age and compromise. You don’t get totally ground away, smashing against the other rocks in the rushing river. You find your pebble finally lodged comfortably in the sand along the edge of the raging torrent.

I stuck with Rush until the end. The last tour I saw was Clockwork Angels. The last song on the last album, The Garden, tapped into me like that teenage boy in 1977. I read it as the quiet bliss of acceptance, finally knowing what was important after the long haul over the roads of life.

A garden to nurture and protect is the measure of a life.

RUSH — THE GARDEN — Lee, Lifeson, Peart

This was a hard earned lesson for Neil, and lesson I also learned with life and loss. For me it was losing my brother to realize how important my garden was.

My pebble firmly ensconced, like the roots of the tree stealing water from the torrent around it, I held tight to tending my garden. My beds are filled with the past, experience fertilizing the future. Even there, the resonance of the song rings true:

The future disappears into memory
With only a moment in between
Forever dwells in that moment
Hope it what remains to be seen
In the fullness of time
A garden to nurture and protect
It’s a measure of a life

RUSH — THE GARDEN — Lee, Lifeson, Peart

I have stood the crossroads. That place of clarity. That moment where you decide who you want to be. No. It is who you will be. For me? I disliked who I was and set about to change it. A far more difficult, and self-critical path, but with rewards being more hard won. And much more appreciated.

As it turned out, it is a lifelong proposition, not a problem to be solved. A garden forever to be tended. I admit to letting it get overgrown with weeds at times. At the very least, I was careful to keep it watered.

Perspective is a wonderful thing, if not always helpful. Sure, you may mull over those choices you should have made, more than the ones you did. I will never be the fourteen year old sponge of a brain again. My mind is blown less and less, though I still find things profound in my lifelong learning.

What remains from that day nearly a half century ago, was that my eyes were opened. Maybe not to ideas I kept, but that the world had other thoughts worthy of seeking out. Ideas bigger than my own.

That outlook carries a freedom and the most important truth, which is this:

The measure of a life is a measure of love and respect

RUSH — THE GARDEN — Lee, Lifeson, Peart

Of course, I would never claim that I have lived a life that was always well measured. I carry the scars, self inflicted or otherwise of life’s grindstone. And in that, the last eye opening song from the man and band who first opened them has become the most resonant.

(if you are interested the video is here)