In An Octopus's Garden in the Shade

(Also appearing on Rebelle Society)



I woke up this morning with Octopus’s Garden by The Beatles in my head.

Not for any apparent reason either – I can’t remember the last time I actually heard that (wonderful, whimsical) song. Anyway, since this isn’t the first time in the past (quite stressful) week or so that Octopus’s Garden has been randomly stuck in my head, I decided to look up the lyrics.

I’m of the belief that if a song pops into your head out of nowhere, there’s a good chance the universe (or at least your subconscious) is trying to tell you something, so I was hoping that perhaps the universe had a message for me hidden in an Octopus’s Garden.

Skimming through the lyrics, one of the lines that struck me the most was:

We would be warm below the storm
In our little hideaway beneath the waves

Reading these words, I instantly recalled listening to a man named Bob Roth discuss transcendental meditation just a few days before, likening our racing minds to 40-foot waves in the ocean – no matter how turbulent the ocean's surface may be, at its core depths it is always quiet and still, he said. He then drew the parallel that just as the ocean's floor is naturally peaceful no matter how wild the surface may be, our true essence is naturally peaceful no matter how loud and incessant our minds may be.

I was gently reminded that my true essence could be my "little hideaway beneath the waves" of my mind and circumstances. I just had to reconnect to that natural essence.

What the universe has been continuously telling me in the midst of my recent worries about money, my future, blahblahblah, is to quit stressing and to simply trust. Grateful as I've been for the encouragement, I realize I haven't allowed myself the joy of letting that message fully sink in; I "know" that I "should" stop worrying and have faith that everything will work out, but I just haven't seemed to be able to walk in that knowing lately.

The message contained in this seemingly silly song was just what I needed to help me get a little closer to fully embracing that truth. It served to me as a reminder to trust that I am loved, safe and that all my needs will be met. To focus on the loveliness, silliness and magic of life. To relax, have fun and not take life so seriously.

Unsurprisingly, I've found the "stop worrying and just trust" advice to be much easier said than done – it takes bravery to have faith. Ironic as it is, I’ve found that it takes hard work and self-discipline to be carefree (especially if you happen to be an anxiety-prone person like I am).

Choosing peace and love over anxiety and fear is just that – a choice. And though it may be easier to default to autopilot, fight-or-flight mode, I’ve discovered that choosing misery ultimately uses up at least as much energy as choosing joy does. Learning to consciously make the right choice is a long process – a process that can't possibly involve too much self-love and patience.

Octopus’s Garden ends with what seemed, as I read it, to be an invitation so warm that I nearly teared up:

We would be so happy you and me…
I'd like to be under the sea
In an octopus's garden with you