A secret concert, and the courage to create

The windscreen wipers battled against the July rain as we wound our way down a narrow country lane. We were following the tail-lights of a friend’s yellow truck, which was leading us to a mystery destination.

Finally, we pulled over on a farm track, and emerged from the car into winds that whipped my hair around. The three of us walked past banks of billowing wildflowers, until we came upon a tiny village church that looked as though it belonged in a children's book illustration. I even remarked that I fully expected to find squirrels and field mice inside, dressed in Edwardian clothes, making tea and toast.

Our friend knocked on the door, and a moment later, it slowly opened. A face appeared. The figure put his fingers to his lips, and then waved us inside.

I didn’t see any costumed squirrels or mice, but the scene inside was no less charming. The church interior flicker ed in the warm glow of candlelight, and wildflower posies were tied with ribbon to the end of each pew.

The place was packed already – evidently, we were late – but we managed to quietly squeeze ourselves into some seats at the back. We were then treated to a gorgeous concert. A pianist, violinist, double-bass player, and singer performed a collection of exquisite and delightful tunes.

Later, when we were all packed into the neighbouring pub, I shouted my congratulations to the singer. I learned that he had only begun singing earlier this year – mere months ago. I was a little blown away by the audacity of his bravery. To finally, quite literally, give voice to a long-held dream, and to share it with friends.

Afterwards, I thought about the courage it can take for people to give themselves permission to first dream, then create, and then to share.

But I’m so glad for every person who has managed to do this. For as you spread your wings, you give permission for others to do the same. And who knows what magic we could discover, with everyone flying?