Last night, I couldn't sleep properly for a variety of reasons, not the least of which was perseverating on the news. At midnight, I turned on my local classical music station just in time to hear the very beginning of a piece I have sung only once, but feel I know to the core of my being, Thomas Tallis's "Spem in Alium", the haunting 40-voice motet. (Oddly, and it must have been the lack of sleep, I spent several bars thinking, "Is this 'Spem in Alium'?" before realizing that of course it was.)
By the end of the piece, in ten minutes or so, I sat up and thought something that, unbelievably, I don't think I have ever thought or said before. And that is: it is completely unacceptable that I have lived a life largely separated from this music, which is energetically me. (And of course, I don't mean just "Spem in Alium", or Howells's "Collegium Regale" or Parry's "I Was Glad" or Harris's "Faire is the Heaven" or Byrd's "Sing Joyfully"...or any one of thousands of pieces and services that are part of the English cathedral repertoire.) It is unacceptable that I was always an ocean away, or a gender away, or a nationality away, or whatever it was that pulled me apart from myself. And as much as I hope the next few weeks and months finds me incorporating this music and my visual arts skills into my self-expression in a more effective way, that is still arguably window-dressing. This tradition is me, the core of me. This is my music, my primary form of beauty, my primary form of spirituality, my energetic vibration. It is my primary form of "religious" expression, despite a personally expanded theological context. "Spem in Alium" means, essentially, "Only in Thee, O Lord, do I put my trust" -- if at this moment I dedicate my love for this music to the feminine face of God, I get to do that. I am 69 years old, it has been a journey and a half to stay alive, and I get to do that.
Needless to say, I was finally able to get to sleep. Then, to wake up and hear that Sarah Mullally has been named the first woman Archbishop of Canterbury...what synchronicity. Or is it?!
