Friday, February 25, 2011
I knew someone once who often spoke of 'awe and wonder' in the context of early years education. It's good for adults too, jaded, weary, worldly-wise, seen-it-done-it-done-time-for-it grownups because change for them is analogous to a child seeing something for the first time.
A little homily for the children contained a suitably macabre ending where, like Macbeth, nobody much lived happily ever after, which of course delighted them. The Guild sang under my fingers and the highlight, apart from TBP (the barefoot priest) doing what he does best, was some Celtic 'soaking' music. For a moment, I imagined a mighty cathedral, vaulted to the heavens and choirs of the redeemed coming with singing to Zion and it became clear to me why it really was worth crawling out of bed for. A little awe and wonder...and just for a moment I briefly felt part of something. Oh, yeah. Change blew like cold, fresh air.
Managing change is often messy and disordered, so the next little while might turn out to be, as the Chinese say, 'interesting times'. A gipsy woman I know is shifting her world on its axis. In the short term the wood disappears behind a jungle of disorderly trees, but, suddenly, the sun comes out and, almost effortlessly, order is restored and the path clears, the blurred images focus and sharpen. Nostalgia, like all the rest of the wreckage, is quietly left behind, a memory stub on the way to the jubilee. Thanks, Mary.