The Sound Of Silence

Last week was thoroughly exhausting- I spent most of it on a course being bombarded with information. Actually, the course was pretty useful – it was all stuff I needed to know and would use all the time – a rarity as I’m sure you’ll agree. Even more extraordinary, pretty much all my fellow attendees were really nice. Still, by the end of the week, I was all people’d out, if you see what I mean. I couldn’t wait to get home and return to work. Obviously a cunning masterplan devised by companies to keep employees in line.

The journey back was a 3-hour nightmare. I stood all the way home — Great Western Railway, you suck! Where was Jeremy Corbyn when I needed him?  🙂 Even better, I had the mother of all nosebleeds; I do have a tendency to getting them but I haven’t had one of such Niagara-fall standards for years. Standing next to the buffet on a train was not the ideal place to have one. 2 packets of tissues later, I was wiping blood off my soaked fingers and overcoat. I’m not kidding about the severity of the nosebleed. London-style, very few people noticed. The ones who did fled instantly, fearing an outbreak of Ebola. That was quite funny, actually. My main concern was to make sure my carrier bag of Krispy Kreme doughnuts did not get pinched while I went to wash the blood off. Priorities, right? Of course, as a typical prescriber, I checked every inch of my body for unexplained bruising when I got home as my first thought was –leukaemia! Too much knowledge is a dangerous thing.

Anyhoo, I have spent the weekend in splendid isolation. I crave solitude like other people crave alcohol. I couldn’t even bear to go to church; even that level of bonhomie was a step too far although churches are not exactly full of back-slapping revellers ( with some notable exceptions–apply in writing and I’ll send you some info….)

The love of solitude is one of the rare good qualities I inherited from my dear Pater, and it’s a lifesaver when things get tough. The only break in all this silence was listening to Alexis Weissenberg playing Chopin. Oh my giddy aunt, he’s a marvel. You or I could practise the piano for a couple of millenia and never come close to playing like that. That sheer, unadulterated talent is a gift from God, no doubt about it. I don’t know who I love more, Chopin for writing the pieces, or Weissenberg for playing them so well. If you don’t know the works, try and find them and listen to them. It may take some doing though; the Fone recording I have is about 20 years old at least. I wish you a serene week full of inspiration and peace. Pip pip.

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