WFH: DAY 115. 8.00 am: A communion: The ‘A’-level debacle has evolved into the Clearing debacle, as universities now seek to perform the miracle of pouring a quart into a pint pot. Government is supposed to solve problems, not create them. Michelle Obama’s critique, yesterday, of the Trump administration could equally be applied to our own leaders’ performance. The want…

‘Be still, my soul’ (Kathrina von Schelgel (1855)) WFH: DAY 114. Last week’s ‘staycation’ was occupied with reading and ruminating, for the most part. I’d wanted to: pause and, for the first time, consider the events since March with hindsight; catch up with my studies in the fields of theology and the psychology of religion; question fundamentals and assumptions; review…

WFH: DAY 113. 8.15 am: A communion. Prayer can be improvisatory. I grew up in a Nonconformist tradition wherein prayers (other than the Lord’s Prayer) were always delivered extemporaneously. Chapel members just stood up in a meeting and spoke to God for up to ten minutes, non-stop. It was like jazz: you could hear themes, recurring motifs, the equivalent of…

WFH: DAY 112. 7.15 am: 8.00 am: A communion. 8.30 am: There were only a few letters that required my attention. 9.00 am: In the studio, I listened again to yesterday’s composition-in-progress. It had won me over; the sound rose sufficiently above the mundane to evoke a sense of the heavenly. 10.15 am: Given that I’d planned some downtime next…

WFH: DAY 111. 8.15 am: As Michelle Obama commented recently, maintaining a personal routine during these uncertain times is crucial, not least for sustaining our own well-being. I’ve always lived by the clock and a plan. That discipline has proved a great help in recent months, particularly. It suits my temperament, and things get done. However, as importantly, I can…

WFH: DAY 110. 8.15 am: A communion. 8.45 am: The inbox’s contents could wait until tomorrow. 9.00 am: I reacquainted myself with Jones’ account of the psalm-singing spirits. They were experienced by a Dissenter named David Thomas of Pant, Carmarthenshire. One night he went into a small room adjoining his house to read Scripture and pray. The room became illuminated…

WFH: DAY 109. A forlorn day. 7.15 am: Breakfast: 8.00 am: A communion. 8.30 pm: There was a slide on my Powerpoint presentation that required attention, and yesterday’s composition to review, before anything new was begun. When I listen to the compositions for this suite, I visualise a black and white film accompaniment. But it’s not one that converts the…

Sunday, August 2. 11.30 am: The service of Morning Prayer, broadcast from Canterbury Cathedral. ‘Where’s Bishop?’ He was sitting on stone steps in the far distance, like a small animal in one of Henri Rousseau’s jungle scenes: A reflection on a return: 4.00 pm: After the weekly round of cleaning, we took an afternoon walk to the, now, deserted university…

WFH: DAY 107. 9.00 am: The air pressure had changed. A gentle breeze kept that air moving. With it came a torpor — a sluggishness — that had to be resisted. Some days start of the wrong foot, even before you catch up with them. On such a day as this, nothing may work, or else nothing may work well…

WFH: DAY 106. I spent the day in second gear, considering the broader landscape of my experience. It’s tempting to see no further than the boundaries of whatever you’re doing and whoever you are, presently. In the end, now is (to invoke a rather outmoded technology of projection) only one slide in the carousel of your whole life’s story: