All the Lonely People

You can't always get what you want.

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Where do they all come from? That’s the refrain from Paul McCartney’s song: Eleanor Rigby. Lyrics, melody, and string arrangement, combine to make it one of the most interesting songs of the twentieth century. Most people think of it as a well-crafted pop song. I think it’s more. The churning throb of the beat evokes intense emotional urgency, while the lyrics sing an impassive tale of two sad empty lives that are anything but urgent

In the end, death ties the tragic lives of Eleanor Rigby and Father McKenzie together.

Even so, Eleanor Rigby dies alone, and Father McKinzie remains unappreciated.

The poetry of the lyric compresses long years of suffering endurance into a few short lines of tragic Art. That compression of misery accentuates the agony of brave hope, brave ambition, never consummated. It’s nothing unusual, that’s the greater part of the tragedy.

Stories like Eleanor Rigby has been repeated over, and over, over the years. If such unfulfilled longing is so typical, why does it seem to us so sad? I think it’s because we all come from Heaven with notions of what ought to be. We strive for happiness. If only we had this, or that, or something else. Then we would be happy.

Maybe happiness is the wrong thing to strive for. Maybe contentment is a better thing to strive for. It’s more reasonable; certainly more attainable. We live in a world of sorrows, punctuated by interludes of happy moments. “Moments” is the key part of that last sentence. Happiness never lasts. As soon as we have what we want, we want something else. That’s true of rich and poor, alike.

What if we stopped wanting and, instead, started appreciating what we already have.

Many people do just that. Are they happy? Not necessarily, but they are probably content. If Eleanor Rigby hadn’t spent so many hours longing for a love to complete her life, might she have found something else, perhaps something right next to her, something that brought contentment in place of unhappy longing? If Father McKinzie wrote his sermons to please God rather than for the fickle accolades of his congregation, would he find his contentment in work well done greater than earthly praise?

Every day I try to get two things done: 1. something I need to do and; 2. something that brings me joy. Both matter as a minimal balance of pleasure and purpose.

It’s not a recipe for happiness, it might be a recipe for contentment. Do something you love and do something you should. It may not seem much, but even the most troubled soul can manage those two things – They are the least - and somedays the best - that can be done. As the days turn to weeks and the weeks turn to years, anyone can look back contented, knowing that each day they’ve done what they should, and they’ve done what they love.

How much better can anyone do?

These words from that other British band, The Rolling Stones, say it succinctly:

You can’t always get what you want,

No, you can’t always get what you want,

But if you try sometimes,

You just might - get what you need.

By K. L. Shipley

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