Henry Metcalfe ~ soulMerlin
Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat - UK tour and West End of London.
Whistle Down the Wind - Current USA tour of Mid-West, Palace Theatre West End of London. UK tour.
Jesus Christ Superstar - UK tour 2004/2005
āwhen by now and tree by leaf
She laughed his joy she cried his griefā ~E. E. Cummings
Some years ago, I saw Field of Dreams, a film about a farmer who was repeatedly urged, by an unseen voice, to build a baseball pitch beside his farmhouse, even though he had no idea why he should build it, who would play on the pitch and who, if any, would come to watch. Like the young farmer, I have been repeatedly urged by unseen voices to āwriteā. During the months after my mother died, mediums and clairvoyants, none of whom had met me before, all repeated the same instruction - āwriteā.
But write about what? The pain I felt at losing my mother? Christina had been my soulmate and my best friend and the thought that the strength, love and tenacity that had been āherā had simply disappeared never to return, was almost too much to bear. But the instruction became more frequent and more insistent ā so I started to write. The process was more painful than I expected. At a time when I wanted to blank-out her death, the reflection needed to write about my pain, caused me to revisit my past; my childhood and growing up, and my busy, but essentially un-centred life. I had finally been made to confront, rather than to hide.
Writing became a daily habit and I guess that in the back of my mind, I hoped it might turn out to be a book. A year later however, I realised that much of what I had written, although essential to my own recovery, was too personal, too mawkish and self-indulgent, to be of any real help to anyone else. Yet I could see grains of truth that I felt could be shared. Writing had made me confront my own spiritual beliefs and arrive at the realization that I had previously chosen not to believe in God or any form of afterlife, despite a mass of evidence to the contrary.
I have now become more aware of the beauty that is around me; rather like seeing the world in colour for the first time, after a lifetime of viewing it in monochrome. Even in my dark moments, I can feel joy vibrating, just below the surface. I have discovered that laughter is the music of heaven and I have learned that grief is not an enemy to fear, but proof that I have and can still love.
The young farmer listened to the whisper āIf you build it, he will come.ā This is my baseball pitch, my Grove of Dreams. In a few days the floodlights will turn on and the gates will openā¦
You are welcome as a spectator, or to join in the game. I will read and answer all your e-mails and with permission, publish some on the site. I hope you will visit my weekly āAlmanackā and the slowly growing acorns as they take root.
Henry Metcalfe ~ soulMerlin
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