My friend asked me to cover her duties as organist over Easter whilst she was trekking in Nepal. (I say trekking, she's checking on the progress of health centres she helped to set up whilst doing voluntary work a few years ago. There's someone who's making a difference.)
Last night I played the Maundy Thursday service. This is the service where they wash people's feet (something I didn't get to see from my position sitting behind the organ). It finished with the altar being stripped, following which a silent vigil was to be held.
After the final hymn, I collected my music together and headed out the door - I was returning home to a huge pile of washing up and maybe a glass of whisky - when something caught my attention.
The church was now a large, empty space, filled with nothing but silence. Not the silence of the night, nor the silence that results from the absence of sound, but rather a conscious silence. The silence of so many people sitting with their thoughts.
Despite the fact I had so other things to do, I sat down and listened to my own thoughts.
There's a lot to be heard in the silence. Films, TV programs, radio show, shops and malls, even some museums now, all like to impose their own soundtrack on our lives, trying to shape our emotions to their own ends. It's easy to forget what can be heard when that external soundtrack is removed.
Read what you like into the above. As the world fills with more and more noise and activity, I'm increasingly drawn towards stillness.