The Song of the Lark

Bill Murray was contemplating suicide after a failed audition.

Bill Murray was contemplating suicide after a failed audition. He said: “So, I thought, ‘maybe if I’m going to die where I am, then I’ll walk towards the lake and maybe I’d float for a while after I’m dead’. So, as I walked towards the lake and I realised I’d hit Michigan and I thought, ‘well, Michigan Avenue that runs north too’, and so I started walking north and ended up in front of the Art Institute of Chicago. And I just walked inside, and I didn’t feel like I had any place being there, and they used to ask you for a donation and I just walked right through because I was ready to die, I’m pretty much dead.

And I walked in and there is a painting there, and I don’t even know who painted it, but I think it’s called The Song of the Lark, and it’s a woman working in a field, and there’s a sunrise behind, and I’ve always loved this painting, and I saw it that day, and I just thought, ‘well look there’s a girl who doesn’t have a whole lot of prospects, but the sun is coming up anyway and she’s got another chance at it. And I think that made me think, ‘I too am a person and I get another chance every day the sun comes up”.

Personally, when I look at this painting, it expresses to me some ineffable and essential concept that is personal and visceral. I don’t know that words can properly untangle the sensations that are related to this painting. But what I see in it is an antidote to what has become an immense sickness in our modern civilization. What one experiences in this painting is visceral and tangible; it is felt deeply. You can feel the dirt and sweat on the clothing, the sensation of bare feet on the ground, the sensation of touching the earth directly. You can sense the wonderment, the longing, the hopefulness, and the pathos of a long forgotten dream.

Insofar as we remain in our minds, we remain in prison. There are things which cannot really be expressed in words or properly understood, but they are felt in the bones. When you take a warm shower you do not philosophize about why it feels good to have the warmth permeate you; you simply feel it. It doesn’t require explanation. I think this ties into a larger concept. Our desire to think is tied to our desire to control what cannot be controlled. The universe is a chaotic ball of entropy and disaster. The psychological need for control is merely a defense mechanism against the reality of the unpredictable world we inhabit.

But this is not a hopeless assertion. In fact, I would argue the opposite. It is as Alan Watts once said, the very fact that we cannot hold onto things, that we cannot prevent change, is the mercy of nature. It releases us from that weight and burden of trying to control things all the time. As technology progresses, life becomes more complex, and the things that have to be controlled multiply. Sometimes, just the feeling of dirt on your bare feet, a subtle summer breeze, and the distant tune of the lark is all one needs to be swept away from that control crazed, obsessive compulsive manner of living. The literal meaning of “nirvana” is blowing out or letting go of the breath. The need to control sometimes is what makes things spiral out of control. Sometimes you just need to pause and listen.