Another week draws to a close. I look back on it and think, shucks – time has flown by, and I anticipate that this is how the rest of full-term is going to feel as well. Each day I come home I tell myself I’ve had a couple of pinch-me moments, fleeting instances where all of this has felt a world away. A few months ago, none of it seemed possible, and I prepared myself to access as much of this education as I could from my home in Bangalore. Yet we’re here today, testament not only to the fact that Cambridge was desirous of us spending time in-residence during term, but more crucially to the idea that now, this is where we should be. I hope more people get to come here, and get to access the space that Cambridge is – for the ideas I’ve heard, the people I’ve met, the air I’m breathing, all of it seems wonderful.
This morning I sung at Chapel Choir. I dabbled in singing while I was younger, but aside from a few classes here and there, I’ve never trained my voice. I joined Chapel Choir and the Symphony Chorus to learn how to read music better, to better understand sound in my head – to see, and sing, rather than having to rely on an instrument to gauge music. To perfect the pitch in my head would be delightful, and I hope to use the wonderful opportunity to sing with a Choir to gain confidence, gain insight into what the lines represent, and understand how to be conducted. Of course, finding my voice along the way would be excellent too, although I have a feeling that may take more than a year.
There is a solemnity to everything we sang this morning. The selection of music, Terry’s Short Mass in C, was wonderful, and there are two phrases that have struck with me. The first is Kyrie E-Leison, which is Lord, have mercy, something I find quite remarkable – an expression of a wish, of hope, of desire. The second, is Miserere, another variant to Have mercy on me. I find the latter quite astounding, for the English word most commonly associated with the root might be Misery, yet rather here, is Mercy. I left service with insight, and the space with a desire to go back again, to sit in the quiet, as the Dean of St Edmund’s mentioned.
In the evening I played hockey. We lost both games, but I’m slowly gaining confidence, and I’m going to stop babbling on about being a left-hander playing right-handed. It’s rather silly I think, and it’s an excuse that worked in week 1 that I’m happy to shed off henceforth. The games were super enjoyable – the first one less so because we kept conceding, but the second one felt like we began to display a solid defensive shape and an understanding of where each player was likely to be, and how each of us responds to situations. Unfortunately at one point, my response to a ball being behind me was to watch it roll. I felt rather lazy at the minute, I must admit, but now, looking back, all I’m hoping for from next week’s games is that I jog around and stay light on my feet throughout, so I can build on my stamina. Having my left-hand on the top of the stick I think might also make tackling a lot easier, but we shall see what I carry forward to next week.
Later, I caught up with a friend over coffee, and having wondered at the delights of the Pret-A-Manger subscription I possess, and encouraging him to begin his own, I returned home, my legs longing for rest, and my mind looking forward to tomorrow – where the pace of life brings me to 2 interactive sessions and a lot of thinking.