2010  –  Longing to be played, but feeling betrayed

Harvey now became a ‘supernumerary’ minister, moving with Carol from Croydon into their retirement home in Shepherdswell, near Dover.  Although he had been granted permission by the Methodist Conference to ‘sit down’ from his Methodist ministry obligations, Harvey was still able to take a part-time job as the County Ecumenical Officer for Churches Together in Kent. It was good for him to immerse himself in his ecumenical passions.  

But what about me?

I was beginning to feel ‘surplus to requirements’, not wanted.

Our involvement with ‘Parson’s Noyse’ had come to an end; a time of playing in the First Violin section of the Folkestone & Hythe Symphony Orchestra didn’t last; and eventually, a solo performance of ‘Ladies in Lavender’ by Nigel Hess was so badly ‘out of tune’ that Harvey appeared to ‘give up on me.’

He was finding it hard to accept that his hearing loss prevented him from maintaining a clear and clean sense of tuning and intonation, both musically and – significantly – theologically.

I have so much beauty and sonic experience engrained in me from my earliest days, and I needed to share it.  Being played and handled by so many musically-driven friends over the years – not least Samuel Wesley, Beethoven, Schleiermacher, Franz Cramer, Nellie Barth, Halfdan Jebe, Frederick Delius, Isaac & John Richardson – is not something one can readily keep to oneself.  Also, having been exposed to a huge variety of ideas, philosophies, theologies and social influences from European, American and African cultures has made an indelible impression upon me, not only in the physical surface of my body, but also in the unique sonic flux around my ribs and my sound post.

In my long and eventful life, I have, of course, had so many encounters with musically gifted friends – not all very competent. Many with real passion, but few as determined as Harvey to wrestle with the music and the divine in order somehow to explore the transcendent mystery at the very heart of life.

I felt I could help him so much – the healing and transforming touch of music was within reach, but Harvey’s struggles and frustrations left me entombed.

Now I was feeling a desperate loneliness, which was not only mine – Igrieved for Harvey, who is so special to me, and with whom I have shared so much.  He understood me and my story in a way none of the others had, yet was somehow unable to receive the gifts and graces I longed to share – if only we could ‘resonate’ together even a little!

I felt, not only rejected, but also betrayed.

(Dear Reader, is it presumptuous to say there are many Christ-like themes and melodies in all these emotions of mine?)

Next time, I need to tell you how it felt when I was handed over for auction and eventually put up for sale.