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"Yes, we are individuals and most of all, no, U2 is not larger than life or greater than God." -- Edge, 1992 |
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"Yes, we are individuals and most of all, no, U2 is not larger than life or greater than God." -- Edge, 1992 |
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Like a Song: Moment of Surrender
@U2,
April 07, 2009
[Ed. note: This is the 33rd in a series of personal essays by the @U2 staff about songs and/or albums that have had great meaning or impact in our lives.]
 For people with type-A personalities like myself, the concept of surrendering is a crazy one. As a professional event planner, I know the importance of creating contingencies for anything and everything that could happen. I've had situations where a cancer awareness three-day walk was slated to conclude at the exact location of my alumni barbecue event. Inclement weather forced more changes to events than I'd care to count. The difference between these two situations is that one I could have controlled better had I communicated more clearly with our campus conference services coordinator, and the other I had no control over whatsoever. Even then, instead of waving a white flag or crying "uncle," I was doing crisis management to try to regain control no matter how futile my efforts were.It was Albert Einstein who defined insanity as "doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results." In my professional life, it was my responsibility to "make it happen" or "get it done" no matter what got thrown my way. Time and time again, I tried to reconcile the fact that no matter how much planning and preparation you may make, there are things that just are out of your control. Like life. In 2003, my father was driving home from a friend's house and in the matter of a split second, was hit head-on by a drunk driver at high speed. The drunk driver died as a result of her injuries. My father spent over three months in the intensive care unit fighting for his life. He is rebuilt from his head to his toes, and we joke that he is a real-life hard rocker due to the amount of heavy metal in his body. During the emotional rollercoaster over the seven months his hospitalizations took, I refused to surrender to the diagnoses he received. Through this time, I also realized that a lot of what was going on was out of my control. No matter how much I did on my Dad's behalf, there was a point where I had to surrender and admit that it was out of my hands. I am happy to say that by the grace of God, he is living a fully thriving, independent life today. 2003 was my wake-up call. Being thrown into the fire changed my perspective on the fragility of life and, as planners would think, the importance of having your affairs in order. But it's not about making sure you have a will in place or your finances in good standing. It's about the lives you've touched and the purpose your life brings. It also made me re-examine my faith, coming to the understanding that surrendering is actually a sign of strength. Fast forward to 2009. I am listening to No Line On The Horizon from beginning to end for the first time. "Moment of Surrender" concludes and the floodgates open and I am searching frantically for tissues. Within the span of just over seven minutes, this one song unearthed all of the emotions I had been repressing for six years with my Dad's near-death experience. The first three verses outlined the stress and desperation I felt being a newlywed trying to start a new life with my husband and being faced with such a devastating situation we couldn't have imagined. Bono was able to describe that desperation perfectly: My body's now a begging bowl That's begging to get back Begging to get back to my heart To the rhythm of my soul To the rhythm of my unconsciousness To the rhythm that yearns To be released from control I found when I was tending to my father, I couldn't fully express my pain and agony because had I let that guard down, I would not have been able to properly advocate for him. As I am an only child, the responsibility of his life suddenly fell on me. It was a role reversal -- after 30 years of Dad being responsible for me, it was now my job to keep him alive. I knew he had the best doctors we could find, and I knew Dad had the will to live. However, I had to constantly communicate to my family and friends what was going on, as well as deal with the police, the lawyers, Dad's employer, insurance agencies, and others. I found that I couldn't deal with my own life because I was dealing with Dad's. As much as I wanted to get back to my own rhythm, I couldn't let go of the control over Dad's. I found myself begging and pleading with God, doctors, nurses, aunts, uncles, cousins and others for answers and to feel like I was being understood. I was yearning so much for compassion and it was very hard to find from family members nearest to me. Family can be your harshest critics sometimes. I was speeding on the subway Through the stations of the cross Every eye looking every other way Counting down 'til the Pentecost At the moment of surrender Of vision over visibility I did not notice the passers-by And they did not notice me These ending lyrics challenged me in a way that a U2 song never had before. A few days after hearing them, I had just given birth to my daughter and two days later found out my grandfather had died. Here we have the bookends of life. I struggled with the notion of rushing through life and realizing you've pushed everyone who cares for you away, leaving you heartbroken and lonely. I also struggled with the idea of a new life and knowing there's a purpose to it but not knowing what that purpose is -- the whole vision over visibility theme. Bono's allusion of the crucifixion of Jesus Christ and the gift of the Holy Spirit also underscored my belief that what you do in this life matters and has purpose. How sad would it be if your life did not matter to anyone, where no one was noticing you and you being hurt so badly that you didn't notice them? I was punching in the numbers at the ATM machine I could see in the reflection A face staring back at me What it boils down to for me is faith. I have to have faith that by giving up control and surrendering, the outcome will be a bit better than anything I could have planned. Obviously, sad things happen in life and that's part of the path we all are on. Hopefully lessons are learned from those experiences that make us better for it. It's that dose of hard reality that hits you at the most unusual time or place. This epiphany might not have happened at an ATM where I saw my own reflection, but there have been similar experiences where I have that "a-ha" moment. There are times when I think it might be my guardian angel staring at me to tell me it's going to be OK, as was the case on several occasions during my Dad's recuperation. There are other times where I'm trying to convince myself that it's out of your hands and to give up the ghost. It's still hard for me to admit I need to surrender, but this song has counseled me that help is out there and to not give into the desperation of trying to find it -- it's where you least expect it and it will find you when you need it the most. © @U2/Lawrence, 2009.
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