rise and shine sleepy jo(e)

Remember Herman’s Hermits? Me neither. They’re an English pop band from the early sixties. I wasn’t born until the late seventies, so yeah… (I’ll leave that one right there)…

Anyway, I’d never heard of them, but then my (ultra ridiculous) friend Joi sent me a clip of one of their songs the other day, with a small extract of the lyrics. I don’t know why she *actually* sent it, but it was a significant clip for me right at that moment. The lyrics are pretty straightforward. I’ve pasted them in below, along with a YouTube clip of a rather quirky Kenn Wingle singing the song…

So, let you and me be Joe (I’ll be Jo without the ‘e’ seeing as I already am), and then read the lyrics more symbolically rather than literally, and I reckon it’s a little kick up the rear we all need occasionally. It’s also a wickedly catchy little hook. Welcome to my earworm…

Rise and shine, sleepy Joe
Now’s the time, don’t you know
To get into a new kind of dream
You’ve been living alone
With no Bell telephone
And you don’t have a shirt that is clean.

You can rest your head
On the corner of your bed
You can watch the world go by
But you never gonna see
What the other people see
If you’re always gonna be a sleepy Joe.

Rise and shine, sleepy Joe
There are places to go
There are windows to clean on the way
You’ve got nothing to loose,
But the shine on your shoes
Do the best things you can every day.

You can get upset, at the way the people get
You can turn your back on the crowd
But you never gonna see
What is absolutely real
If you’re always gonna be a sleepy Joe.

Rise and shine, sleepy Joe
Now’s the time, don’t you know
To get into a new kind of dream
You’ve been living alone
With no Bell telephone
And you don’t have a shirt that is clean.

Rise and shine, sleepy Joe
There are places to go
There are windows to clean on the way
You’ve got nothing to loose,
But the shine on your shoes
Do the best things you can every day.

Rise, and shine; sleepy Joe…

“when she walks on the street you can hear the strings. Grace finds goodness in everything”

I have a ridiculously talented, generous beautiful friend called Bek. I adore her. Her writing is genius, and contemplative, and honest, and brave, and thirsting. It always grips me.  A while ago, Bek wrote a piece on grace. I saved it, and I re-read it often. It still speaks to me. This morning I read it again as I’ve been thinking about grace a lot.

Grace. It’s even a beautiful word. To look at. And to say. I always look at words. And I say them over and over until they look so wrong, and surely misspelt. Grace isn’t like that. I don’t ever feel like it’s misspelt. And it’s elegant to say.

It’s a noun and a verb. As a noun:

• elegance or beauty of form, manner, motion, or action
• a pleasing or attractive quality or endowment
• favor or goodwill
• a manifestation of favor, especially by a superior
• mercy; clemency; pardon

As a verb:

• to lend or add grace to; adorn
• to favor or honor: to grace an occasion with one’s presence

I love all of it’s meanings, and all that it conjours up and can bring into life. Sometimes, when we forget to extend grace – to ourselves, or to others – life can get a bit messy and tight. The opposite is also true. If we’re interacting with grace well – the kind that is shown to us, and the kind we’re supposed to show to others – life can be so RIGHT. So strong. So free. I know which way I’d like to live.

Still practicing the art of grace every day. And what a wonderful thing to practice.

I leave you with these lyrics by U2, from their song ‘Grace”.

Grace, she takes the blame
She covers the shame
Removes the stain
It could be her name

Grace, it’s a name for a girl
It’s also a thought that changed the world 

And when she walks on the street
You can hear the strings
Grace finds goodness in everything

Grace, she’s got the walk
Not on a ramp or on chalk
She’s got the time to talk
She travels outside of karma, karma
She travels outside of karma

When she goes to work
You can hear the strings
Grace finds beauty in everything

Grace, she carries a world on her hips
No champagne flute for her lips
No twirls or skips between her fingertips
She carries a pearl in perfect condition
What once was hurt, what once was friction
What left a mark no longer stains
Because Grace makes beauty out of ugly things

you can hear more with your feet on the couch.

Yesterday afternoon, for four hours, I drank soda water from a wine glass. With my feet on a couch. And listened to GREAT music. And just chilled. I wrote, I read, I thought, I spoke(a little). But essentially,

I JUST CHILLED….

That’s right. No diving. No jumping. No emails. No laptop. No phone. No nothing.

And in my chilling-ness, at one stage Gillian Welch was singing forth to me gloriously.

AND I WAS ACTUALLY HEARING THE LYRICS.

Because I was chilling.

My theory is that you ‘hear’ more when your feet are on the couch. [And yes, that’s just a metaphor for being relaxed.] Having your feet up means you’re relaxed. You’re not heading off in a rush. You’ve slowed down a little. You’re ‘chilling’…

so you HEAR…

This was the first line of one of Gillian’s songs:

“There’s got to be a song left to sing, coz everybody can’t have thought of everything”

I love it. It’s true.

There’s something in each of us that is not thought of yet.
Sing it out.

xx