As you will be aware, I rather like the idea of our working together, and I have the Song Group to thank for giving voice to a couple of my songs – that is – where I set another person’s words to music. And more of that later.
I am prompted to talk about sharing our creative selves, by one of Norbert Capek’s Ten Advices – the one encouraging his Unitarian community members to be active and creative. Now, that really ought to read, ‘to REMAIN active and creative’, because we should note the context. That community was trying to survive the Nazi regime. Members lived in fear because they were dissenters, fighting in their own way, for human rights. Capek wanted them to follow their own lives as fully as possible.
So, context is everything – but Capek was right. We should remain active, creative, and supportive of each others’ individual abilities, as they strove to do. Now I want to turn to our creative selves, and to how our lives and actions reveal each person’s true nature and identity. We often quote ‘You need not think alike to love alike.’ We might modify that and say, “The less we think alike, the more interesting we might find each other!”
I bet most of us here have attended a meeting or workshop, where the facilitator asks everyone to turn to their neighbour to talk about the matter in hand, their experiences in such and such a situation…. Or it may be that you are shuffled around into groups of four or five, “and please could one of you speak later on behalf of the group.” In fact, two years ago in August, while Andrew was away, the mice did play. I convened a service where we did shuffle chairs.
The previous week’s convenor had done so, and I followed on, and yet, whenever I am on the receiving end of that summons to share space and thoughts, I mentally groan. I feel reluctant turn to others. Why? I’ll make a guess that there’s a risk. It’s
“Oh, really… do I have to share my thoughts – indeed, do I have any?” Or worse, it could be, “Oh really…. Do I trust this space, do I want to offer something of myself, right now!?”
There have been occasions when I feel the groan coming on, but once we get started, I’m on the ball and actually offer to be the scribe! So again – what is going on there? I don’t want to do it, yet I do a good job. I don’t know how far any of these experiences ring bells with anyone.
My son, Russ, lives in New Zealand. We chat online every two or three weeks. We’ve often talked about a feeling of dread – dark feelings about an event which is to happen later. There’s an old saying, “It’s the devil on your back”. Something bugs you about a task to be accomplished, but I sense it’s no more than a reminder that we are capable, and that we need to be a bit nervous, and then we do a good job.
So, we have the Capek advice about creativity and mutual support, and that’s a springboard to talk about a musical project for which I ask others to work with me. It has taken me some years to step into the shoes of a previous Unitarian musician, the late David Dawson. That’s because someone once referred to David as “Mr. Unitarian Music”, so, as a newcomer in Unitarian circles, my confidence to stand up and be counted has only slowly emerged.
However slowly some of us grow to meet our true selves, we do so only in society. We cannot do it alone. Either we work with others or we remain in the shadows. I reckon we fulfil this sharing, in part, by being here – by showing up and offering our responses after the Talk. And that’s so much easier than shuffling our chairs around!
Some of you know that for six years, I have worked with a Unitarian colleague, Louise Rogers, on a zoom-based project, UNI-SING! During the first lockdown, she asked on Facebook for a musician to join her in a project she wanted to launch. This was to be a weekly Saturday afternoon where members could gather and sing, despite lockdowns. I offered to be the pianist, and all sorts of collaborations continue even now. Sue, Jennifer and Celia have all attended Uni-Sing.
One year, we added educational sessions: easy ways to approach reading music for instance. Then in August two years ago, we focused upon collaboration between those who write words, and those who write music. If Celia were here today, she would be able share what she offered on one of those occasions, which was to talk about her reasons for writing a new hymn to a familiar tune. Following on from that, several people wrote a few reflective words, which later I set to music as short chants.
Did you know that both our General Assembly (our national body) and our own congregation’s buildings share a centenary in 2028? To celebrate these centenaries I have begun a project called River of Time: I plan to create a Suite of simple choral pieces, interspersed with readings and familiar hymns. The point is to invite people to write, for me to set it to music: And you don’t need to get into groups of four or five to do that!
I often find that where there’s a gap to be filled, I get creative. Being a pianist, various groups have needed me – just as now! However, if I have a creative idea which has no basis in society, then it doesn’t happen. An idea has to fill society’s need. So we’ll wait and see what happens with River of Time. Is it needed? Will it prompt others to write? Or will it sink under its own waves?
Two weeks ago, Celia’s talk began by highlighting the tapestried kneelers, create here a hundred years ago. Slowly, they are being turned into chair cushions. Some of you are sitting on them or you may have one behind you. Celia’s celebration of the kneelers prompted me to write a song which a few of us will sing in around five minutes’ time. You may or may not consider yourself as a writer, but remember that all of us have reflective thoughts worthy of setting down – and then sending to me, please!
So, this is an invitation to work with me to create music for our own centenary, and for the formation of our General Assembly. In remembering those who built our church and hall, we respect the past and draw it into the present – and it is also to learn more about ourselves. The title, River of Time, is therefore a metaphor for changes and challenges both here and in Unitarian circles, and it is to grow and to celebrate our identity.
Our Trustees and Minister, along with our former treasurers, already work together intensely, to make practical changes to our buildings. Doing so is to refresh our identity in ways which suit our needs, and the current needs of this town, but we are not all trustees and may feel helpless about the slow pace of negotiations with the local planning department. So, what we can do is to fill the buildings with ourcontent, that is our creative content – representing who we are as individual persons.
If you are reading after this talk was given in person, I invite you to open the document in the newsletter/website, about River of Time. There you will find colourful prompts to spark a little writing.
We may not live under a barbaric regime as that Unitarian community did, but the present moment is always the right one to spark action, and to work together.