As we wrap up week two of “Four Weeks’ to Rubber Soul,” our landing for today’s word is “Give.” The word blends in as suitable ending for the 2nd week theme of the series being “Collaborate.” Each member of The Beatles willing give of their strengths, ideas, and talents on each track of the “Rubber Soul” album. Their actions serve as a solid lesson for what it means to be a supportive collaborator in the creative process.
For us, the lesson from The Beatles is to give your part everything you have. On Rubber Soul, nobody simply showed up and occupied a role. John brought songs, voice, rhythm guitar, vulnerability, humor, and increasingly personal writing. Paul brought songs, bass lines, harmonies, musical imagination, and an instinct for arrangement. George brought guitar textures, harmony, songwriting, and the sitar that helped transform “Norwegian Wood.” Ringo brought the pulse, feel, personality, and exactly the kind of drumming each song needed. George Martin and the Abbey Road team also gave their creativity to the record. Each groove on the album is filled with sonic excellence.
The lesson becomes bigger than The Beatles. Giving does not require being the person in the spotlight. Giving means bringing your full contribution to the work because the work matters and because your bandmates matter. When you have a full balance of mattering among bandmates, the desire to give of yourself is heightened. It’s a beautiful thing when it happens in within the realm of any team, organization, or creative collaboration.
You may be wondering what is it that you have to give to a band. Ringo Starr once said in The Beatles Anthology documentary that when The Beatles got to focusing on the music, they put in “a thousand percent.” He is talking about this in relation to their final studio album, Abbey Road. That 1000% contribution factor is all over Rubber Soul. Each Beatle brought something different, but each one gave himself to the song.
You do not have to give what somebody else gives. Give what is yours to give. Bring your voice. Bring your gift. Bring your effort. Believe that you have to give matters and helps make the world a better place. The band becomes stronger when everyone gives something to the song.
Today is Day 13 of Four Weeks to Rubber Soul, and the word for today is Persist. I have to admit that I am feeling this word in a very real way right now because this series has been more emotionally challenging than I expected.
I have been showing up every day, writing blog posts, recording reels, sharing ideas, and inviting people into the conversation. I am grateful for every person who has commented, responded, or offered encouragement, but the overall response has been pretty quiet. I would be lying if I said that did not hurt. When you put something personal into the world, you hope someone will meet you there. You hope the work will spark a thought, a conversation, or some kind of connection.
There have been moments during this series when I have wondered why I am doing it. I have asked myself whether anyone really cares about these daily reflections on creativity and “Rubber Soul.” I have wondered whether I am simply talking into the silence. Those are uncomfortable questions, but I think they belong in a series about creativity because the creative life is not always filled with applause, encouragement, or visible signs that the work is reaching anyone.
One of the things I envy about The Beatles is that they had a band. They had people in the room who could hear an idea, challenge it, improve it, add something unexpected, or simply help carry the weight of the creative process. “Rubber Soul” was created through that kind of interaction. John could bring something to Paul. Paul could bring something to John. George and Ringo brought their own voices, ideas, musicianship, and perspectives into the room. They did not have to create in complete isolation.
I do not have that kind of band for this project, and I suspect many people who are creating something meaningful do not have one either. Creativity can be an incredibly solitary pursuit. There are days filled with loneliness, uncertainty, doubt, and silence. You make the thing, send it into the world, and sometimes hear almost nothing in return. You still have to decide whether you are willing to return to the work the next day.
That is where persistence becomes important. Persistence is not pretending that the silence does not hurt. It is not acting as though encouragement, collaboration, or connection do not matter. Those things matter deeply. Persistence is choosing to continue even when the response does not match the effort and even when you wish someone were sitting beside you helping you figure out the next chord.
“Rubber Soul” reminds me that meaningful creative work often develops because people stay with the idea. Songs changed. Lyrics evolved. Arrangements were shaped and reshaped. John Lennon’s early approach to “In My Life,” for example, began as a much more literal reflection on places from his Liverpool past before developing into something more universal and emotionally resonant. The song became something greater because the creative process continued.
Persistence does not always mean stubbornly holding onto the first version of an idea. Sometimes it means staying with the work long enough to discover what the idea is trying to become. Sometimes it means returning the next morning when yesterday felt disappointing. Sometimes it simply means making the next thing even though you are not sure anyone is waiting for it.
I am beginning to realize that this may be one of the reasons I need to keep doing “Four Weeks to Rubber Soul.” My hope is not simply to talk about an album I love. My hope is that these daily blogs and reels might reach someone else who is creating alone. Maybe there is a writer, artist, educator, musician, podcaster, leader, or dreamer out there who does not have a band either.
If that is you, I hope this series can offer a little companionship. I hope these daily reflections can remind you that somebody else understands what it feels like to keep creating through uncertainty. I hope I can be a kind of bandmate from a distance, someone reminding you to keep working the song, keep following the idea, and keep believing that the creative process itself has value.
I need that kind of bandmate, too.
Maybe that is part of what I am discovering through this project. Creativity may sometimes be solitary, but it does not have to leave us completely alone. We can encourage one another. We can notice the work. We can remind each other that the quiet seasons still count and that the work happening inside us may not always be visible through comments, likes, or shares.
I am going to persist. I am going to keep writing, recording, reflecting, and following this monthlong journey wherever it leads. I still hope more people join the conversation, and I am not going to pretend that the response does not matter to me. At the same time, I am learning that the work can still matter even when the room feels quiet.
Maybe someone out there needs a bandmate today. Maybe I do, too. Until we find one another, we can keep making the music and reminding each other that we are not creating entirely alone.
That is my question for Day 13: What helps you persist when creativity feels lonely? If you are creating something and the room feels quiet, I hope you will keep going. I will be over here trying to do the same. Know that I am pulling for you and that I believe in what you have to offer.
Keep creating. Keep listening. Keep following the song. Thanks for being in the band!
What if “Drive My Car” had stayed “Golden Rings?” That may be one of the great what if questions in Beatles lyrical history. Paul McCartney came into the writing process with the beginnings of a song and an idea involving golden rings, but the idea was not quite working. Rather than protecting the first version simply because it was his, Paul kept working with John Lennon until they found a new direction. Eventually, “Drive My Car” emerged.
That story says a lot about feedback because feedback is necessary for any creative pursuit. We need thoughts, responses, questions, and ideas from other people because we cannot always see everything in our own work. We all have blind spots. Sometimes another person helps us recognize something that needs attention. Other times, feedback gives us validation that something is working and encourages us to keep moving forward.
Receiving feedback requires openness, and it also requires trust. We need people around us who understand what we are trying to accomplish and care enough to help us grow. The best feedback does not come from someone simply looking for flaws. It comes from trusted bandmates who are willing to listen, respond, challenge, encourage, and help us hear something we may be missing.
Being open to feedback does not mean we have to accept every suggestion. Feedback requires reflection and discernment because someone can offer a thoughtful idea that still may not belong in your work. Another person might notice something you initially resist, only to realize later that they were hearing something important. Creative growth requires enough confidence to maintain your own voice and enough humility to consider another perspective.
The goal of feedback is not obedience. The goal is growth, and that idea becomes even more meaningful when we look beyond “Drive My Car” and consider Rubber Soul as a whole. The album represents a moment when The Beatles knew they had to continue growing. They had already achieved extraordinary success, yet repeating what had worked before was not enough. Their songwriting was becoming more reflective, their musical palette was expanding, and new influences were finding their way into the room.
Rubber Soul is evidence of creative people taking bold initial steps toward innovation. The Beatles listened to one another, brought different ideas into the room, experimented with sounds and instruments, and allowed songs to change. They responded to new influences and trusted their evolving instincts. They did not have every future album mapped out. They simply understood that growth required movement.
That is one reason Rubber Soul continues to inspire me during this month of creativity. It offers more than a collection of incredible songs because it provides a template for creative growth.Rubber Soul reminds us to begin the work, listen to our creative muse, collaborate with kindred spirits, and experiment our expression. Like The Beatles, we welcome trusted feedback, reflect on what we hear, and keep what helps the work become stronger.
Every creative person needs people who can help them see and hear what they may be missing. The challenge is learning how to receive that perspective without surrendering your own voice. Listen with openness, give yourself time to reflect, and discern what will help the work grow. Sometimes the next creative breakthrough may begin with the willingness to hear something differently.
Today is Day 8 of Four Weeks to Rubber Soul, and we begin a new theme in our four week journey. This week, we will explore the different ways creativity invites us to collaborate. Collaboration is woven throughout The Beatles story, and it is an essential ingredient of “Rubber Soul.” For all of the individual personalities and voices within the group, this is very much a band album.
“Rubber Soul” was not the product of isolated genius. John Lennon, Paul McCartney, George Harrison, and Ringo Starr each brought something different into the room. Producer George Martin and the studio team added their own ideas, judgment, expertise, and craft. Great collaboration expands the work without erasing the individual voices that make the work distinctive.
Our word for today is one of my favorite words: Bandmate.
If you know me, you know that I sometimes view the world as one big band. Each of us has a part to play. Each of us brings a gift that contributes to the sound. I often call people I cherish and trust as collaborators my “Bandmates.” It is my way of expressing gratitude, connection, trust, and kinship. When I call someone a Bandmate, I am saying, “I see you. I appreciate what you bring. I am grateful that we get to make something together.”
“Rubber Soul” offers a wonderful picture of this idea. Look at the back cover of the album and read the credits. Throughout the track listing, you see combinations of names and contributions. For example, you see credits like “Paul and John with George,” “George with John and Paul,” and “Ringo with Paul and John.” You even see specific musical contributions identified, such as George on sitar, Paul on fuzz bass, Ringo on Hammond organ, and George Martin on piano. The back cover almost becomes a set of liner notes for collaboration.
You can hear the same idea on “Think for Yourself.” It is George Harrison’s song, yet listen to everything his Bandmates bring into the recording. Paul contributes that memorable fuzz bass. John adds organ and harmony vocals. Ringo anchors the song with drums and percussion. The group layers its voices together around George. The song retains George’s voice while becoming richer because his Bandmates bring their voices into the room.
That is what great Bandmates do. They do not diminish your voice. They help you discover what your voice can become when it connects with theirs. The individual strengths of John, Paul, George, and Ringo became something even more powerful when those strengths worked together. Rubber Soul gives us fourteen reminders of what can happen when people bring their gifts into the room and make something together.
Who are your Bandmates?
Take a moment today to give someone your own liner notes shoutout. Send a text. Write an email or a note. Make a phone call. Find them in person and tell them what they bring to the band. Let somebody know that you see their contribution, that you appreciate their presence, and that the sound would not be quite the same without them.
Every great band needs Bandmates. Make sure yours know that they matter.
This is Day 7 of Four Weeks to Rubber Soul, and today’s word is Reflect. We are also closing out Week 1, which has centered on the theme of Begin. The Beatles’ creative growth, so evident on Rubber Soul, came from entering the room with songs, fragments, influences, ideas, and a willingness to work. The lesson is not to achieve perfection before starting. The lesson is to begin the work, knowing that it is completely acceptable if the beginning is rough and raw. What matters is that you enter the room and that the room is the right one, aligned with your creativity and ready to support the gifts you are bringing.
An important part of the creative process is reflection. Creative growth becomes visible when we stop long enough to notice what has changed since we began. Reflection asks us to pause, look back at what we created, and listen again. There is an art to that pause because we do not want to become so immersed in reflection that we lose momentum. Sometimes we need a trusted thought partner or bandmate who can help us listen, notice, and keep our creative work moving in the groove.
That brings me back to Rubber Soul. One reason I am looking forward to the multiple takes and alternate versions included with the forthcoming Rubber Soul Super Deluxe Edition is the opportunity to hear that creative evolution. The Beatles, along with producer George Martin, continually shaped these songs by changing harmonies, sounds, spaces, arrangements, and instrumentation. Reflection does not mean doubting what you created. Reflection means giving yourself enough space to hear what the work still needs.
Sometimes we need to return to what we made and ask three simple questions: What is working? What is missing? What could make this better? On Rubber Soul, a song could enter the studio one way and leave sounding very different on the finished master. That transformation happened because the band was willing to listen to the work as it developed and respond to what the song needed.
For example on “Norwegian Wood,” George Harrison felt that the song needed something different. His growing interest in Indian music led him toward the sitar, and he worked out a part that became one of the defining sounds of the song. That decision helped give the recording its distinctive character and introduced many listeners to a sound they may not have expected to hear on a Beatles record.
“In My Life” offers another beautiful example of reflection in action. The basic track had already been recorded, but the instrumental middle still needed something. George Martin experimented with ideas, including Hammond organ, before developing the Baroque inspired piano passage we now know so well. Since the part was difficult to play at the required speed, he recorded it more slowly and sped the tape up afterward. The result became an essential part of the song and a reminder that sometimes the creative breakthrough comes after we are willing to listen again.
As we close Week 1, take some time to reflect on something you have created. Do not judge it too quickly. Listen to it and ask yourself: What is working? What is missing? What could make this better? Consider bringing a trusted thought partner or bandmate into that reflection because sometimes another set of ears helps us hear possibilities we cannot hear alone.
Reflection is not about doubting your work. It is about asking what the work still needs and then having the courage to make the adjustment. I would love to hear how reflection fits into your creative process as we continue this journey through Four Weeks to Rubber Soul.
Check out today’s daily reel. Thanks to Starbucks for serving as my own Abbey Road Studios!
Today’s word for Day 6 of Four Weeks to Rubber Soul is Listen.
One of the things I love about The Beatles is how much they listened. They absorbed what was happening around them. Folk music. Soul. Motown. Indian music. Bob Dylan. The Beach Boys. They were fans, students, competitors, and curious creators all at once.
They listened deeply, but they did not simply copy what they heard. They took those influences, filtered them through their own voices, and created something that still sounded unmistakably like The Beatles. You can hear that sense of curiosity and expansion throughout Rubber Soul.
That idea keeps coming back to me during this project.
If I ever have the chance to meet you in person, there is a good chance I will ask you one of my favorite questions:
What’s on your turntable?
Sometimes I mean that literally. I genuinely want to know what record you are spinning. The question also goes much deeper than music.
What are you reading? What are you listening to? What are you noticing? What ideas have your attention right now? What is feeding your work, your soul, and your passion?
For me, asking that question is an invitation to connect. I want to know what matters to you because I can learn from you. Your interests, ideas, and passions may help me see something differently. Listening becomes more than receiving information. It becomes an act of connection.
Creativity works that way, too.
We listen to the things that move us. We notice the work of other people. We absorb ideas, sounds, conversations, books, art, and experiences. Somewhere in all of that listening, something begins to stir within us. We take what inspired us and begin making something of our own.
That is part of what Four Weeks to Rubber Soul has become for me.
This is a daily creativity challenge. Every day, I am showing up with a word, recording a reel, and writing a blog post inspired by an album that continues to challenge and inspire me. Some days the ideas arrive easily. Other days I have to dig a little deeper. The point is to keep listening, noticing, creating, and showing up.
Rubber Soul has stayed on my turntable for years because it represents a courageous creative pivot. It reminds me what can happen when artists remain curious, listen widely, trust one another, and allow themselves to grow.
Plus, the music is pretty damn good.
My hope is that these daily riffs might do for someone else what Rubber Soul continues to do for me. Maybe a thought, a song, a question, or one small idea will encourage you to make something, try something, or return to something you have been putting aside.
So, here is today’s invitation:
What’s on your turntable?
What are you listening to, reading, noticing, or experiencing that is challenging you and inspiring your creativity?
It can be daunting to face one’s creativity and then put on display for others. There are many forms and permutations of this feeling. Perhaps, it’s pressing “Publish” on a blog or reel. Maybe, it’s sitting at the keyboard and literally facing the music. We create doubts, orchestrate judgement from others, and quietly place a watermark of failure on our work. This impedes our expression and may even result in the zero sum of our creative output.
We need to dig deeply into our core for the courage to hold our heads high. We have to possess the belief in our creativity. We must be convicted that the world needs our ideas, dreams, and creative action. It takes courage to do all these things. I know it isn’t easy. By taking steps in these Four Weeks to Rubber Soul, my hope is to help inspire courage in your work. You may not have the camaraderie and support of a John, Paul, George, and Ringo surrounding you in your own creative pursuit. My hope is that creativity series will be like a bandmate for you as you dream, explore, and create.
Today’s word is Courage. I explore that very thing in today’s reel. Check out my riffs on “Rubber Soul” in today’s daily reel:
Welcome to Day 4 of Four Weeks to Rubber Soul. Today’s theme is practice.
Long before Rubber Soul, The Beatles had already spent years learning how to become a band. Hamburg was one of their great laboratories. During their early residencies there, they played punishing schedules in clubs like the Indra, Kaiserkeller, and Top Ten. At the Indra, they were playing four and a half hours on weekdays and six hours on weekends. When they returned to Hamburg in 1961, the Top Ten schedule stretched to seven hours a night and even longer on weekends. Night after night, they had to keep an audience engaged, stretch songs, improvise, recover from mistakes, and keep playing.
That kind of work mattered. Hamburg did not magically turn them into The Beatles we know, but it gave them something difficult to manufacture: musical instinct with one another. They learned how to listen, anticipate, adjust, and respond. They developed stamina. They developed confidence. They developed a shared language.
By the fall of 1965, all of those hours were in the room with them when they began making Rubber Soul. The album sessions began in October with a looming Christmas release deadline, giving them roughly a month to create one of the defining albums of their career. That speed was not the absence of practice. It was one of the results of it.
Still, practice did not mean everything came easily.
Take “I’m Looking Through You.” The Beatles spent nine hours working on the song on October 24, 1965. They completed a version that they initially considered finished. Then they came back on November 6 and remade it. They still were not satisfied. They tried again on November 10, arriving at the arrangement that became the master, and completed the recording the following day. The earlier version was slower, arranged differently, and did not even contain the familiar “Why, tell me why” section. I love that.
One of the great songs on a classic album was not simply delivered fully formed. They worked it. They listened. They changed it. They discarded something they had spent hours creating and began again. That is practice.
Practice is not simply repeating something until you stop making mistakes. Practice is remaining curious enough to ask, What else could this become? It is having enough commitment to return to the work when the first version does not quite say what you want it to say.
Maybe that is why this idea feels especially relevant to me during Four Weeks to Rubber Soul. I am practicing, too.
Every day for four weeks, I am showing up and trying something a little different. I am writing. I am recording reels. I am listening more closely to an album I have known for years. I am experimenting with ideas, formats, stories, and connections. Some days will flow better than others. Some reels will land. Some will need another take. Some ideas may evolve completely before this journey is finished.
I am not waiting until I have perfected the series before I share it. The series itself is the practice. I am learning by doing it.
The Beatles had Hamburg before Rubber Soul. They had thousands of performances, rehearsals, writing sessions, mistakes, arguments, breakthroughs, and countless hours of playing together. Then, when opportunity and pressure collided in late 1965, they had the craft and the connection to create something extraordinary.
Whatever you are working on, give yourself that same permission. Practice. Experiment. Take another run at it. Rewrite the paragraph. Record another take. Play the chord again. Change the arrangement. Keep chiseling away at the thing that matters to you. Do not make perfection the price of continuing. Stay with it.
One of the things I love most about Rubber Soul is hearing The Beatles become more confident in their own voices. They were still evolving, still experimenting, still figuring things out. Yet you can hear them trusting themselves more.
That matters.
Finding your voice does not mean having everything figured out. It means believing that what you have to say, create, contribute, or share has value. It means resisting the temptation to sound like everyone else and giving yourself permission to bring your full self to the work.
Voice and mattering are connected. When you know you matter, you become a little more willing to speak, create, take a risk, and put something into the world that sounds like you.
That is one of the lessons I hear in Rubber Soul. John, Paul, George, and Ringo were stretching beyond expectations and discovering new possibilities in the process.
Maybe that is our invitation today.
Listen to Rubber Soul. Pay attention to the voices, harmonies, ideas, and creative risks. Then consider your own.
For Day 1 of my creativity series on The Beatles and their “Rubber Soul,” I share a quick video riff. In this video riff, I simply invite you to begin. All creativity has to start somewhere after the catalyst for inspiration. It may not be a monumental beginning, but it’s a start.
The first day of the “Rubber Soul” sessions began with two songs, “Run For Your Life” and “Norwegian Wood.” The former was later dismissed by its main author, John Lennon. “Norwegian Wood” is another story. This track sets the stage for the introspective angles evident in the final proudct of the completed “Rubber Soul.”
Today is serendipitous in that we get another sneak peek at the upcoming “Rubber Soul” Super Deluxe Edition with Take 2 of “Norwegian Wood.” It’s rough and raw and not quite the near the poetic elegance that final master reaches. In fact, the song is entitled “This Bird Has Flown.” This title is later hued from the Lennon-McCartney songwriting forest as “Norwegian Wood.”
Check it out here:
In case you missed it, here’s the Day 1 Reel that kicks off our “Four Weeks to Rubber Soul.” Please feel free to share in the comments what you creative pursuit are your beginning to today.
Day 1 of Four Weeks to Rubber Soul. Today’s word: BEGIN. The Beatles did not walk into the studio with Rubber Soul fully formed. They brought songs, fragments, influences, ideas, and a willingness to work. That is where creative work begins. Show up. Start. Trust the work. What are you making? FourWeeksToRubberSoul WhyTheBeatlesMatter TheBeatles RubberSoul Creativity
