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Sunday, August 31, 2014

On Solipsism; or: Music for a Sunday Afternoon

Halfway the afternoon, it stopped raining.

My son wanted to play football, so we put on our shoes and went to the lawn between the school and the church. We met some church-goers on the way. They greeted us friendly, we greeted back.

While we were playing football, the singing of psalms and hymns drifted  from the church faintly over the lawn. It reminded me of times long ago, when I occasionally visited church services because some of my friends were believers. For a moment I longed to be in the church, singing along in strong and uncomplicated belief. But I realised that probably that would be something reserved for a next life, not for this one. My life history is one that by now makes a 'strong and uncomplicated belief' (if such a thing exists - strong, yes, but uncomplicated?) unlikely to happen. The best I can hope for, I guess, is some peace of mind while temporarily quieting down the principles of rational doubt.

The moment of longing also made something else clear to me: that I would, in spite of all my efforts to understand what music means for other people, never even get close to the experiences of all those church-goers. I have my suspicions, my dreams about those experiences, I could gain more knowledge about it by reading, observing, asking, participating - but those suspicions and dreams and knowledge, eventually, would be my experiences, not theirs.

Solipsism sometimes seems an inescapable position. Specifically on Sunday afternoons.