Renewed by his five-year break from public life and the music industry, John used this song to explain his absence to his fans. By the world's standards he essentially did nothing. He baked bread. He raised Sean. He led a domestic life. "Watching the Wheels" was his patient, clear-eyed response to everyone who could not understand why he had stepped back.
Our culture has built an entire identity around the idea that busyness equals worth. John refused this during his time away from the spotlight. He was resting because he had spent decades at full velocity and discovered that the velocity had created a trap. He was resting to find himself and devote his time and attention to his family.
Understanding the difference between stopping and giving up is crucial. John was not done. He came back, he made music, he was full of ideas and energy when he returned. But he had to stop first. He had to get off the merry-go-round and watch it spin from a distance. He had to learn that he was not what he produced. He was more than his rock star persona.
Round and round the world went, while he dove into domestic life. No one can truly know what it was like to be a Beatle except the four of them. It is interesting to note that all four needed to retreat for a time of healing and reflection. John’s break was similar to Paul’s retreat to his farm in Scotland when The Beatles broke up.
Domestic life was the recipe that healed both John and Paul. For them, it was the foundation from which their future life would eventually emerge. John's lesson, delivered with characteristic simplicity, is that you are allowed to pause. The wheel will continue turning. The world will manage. And sometimes the most important thing you can do, for yourself and those around you, is to stop moving long enough to find out who you actually are when the noise dies down.
Today, I will allow myself one genuine period of rest without guilt or agenda, trusting that stepping back from constant motion is not wasted time but necessary renewal.
Where have you been confusing busyness with purpose? What might you discover about yourself if you allowed the wheel to keep spinning for a while without you on it?

