David Walliams' 500 Words Story Surgery

From Jim Harris, Art Historian:

It’s Monday and the week stretches before us, unknown and exciting, full of optimism and hope, full of possibility, potential and the thrill of discovery. Or, if you’re anything like me, full of things you’re not quite ready for, things that aren’t properly thought out, things that bring with them the dread horror of failure, disgrace and public humiliation.

Ok, perhaps that’s a little strong but the start of the week always comes bearing the likelihood of situations in which we might just have to busk. I used to play trumpet in a band and every so often I’d have to play a solo. We had a great bassist, Tuffie, who’d say “Just play. Make something up”, implying that literally anyone could improvise eight bars. But I was terrified of improvising. It’s risky. If I was going to play a solo, I wanted notes. I wanted to be secure, to be prepared.

Preparation is important. Practice, rehearsal, chords, a script. So we prepare. We check our diaries and make a plan, an agenda, a PowerPoint. But what happens if the thing you’re preparing for doesn’t work out? In the Bible, John the Baptist cried out, ‘Prepare the way of the Lord’. So people prepared. The Jews had been preparing for a thousand years. Trouble was, when Jesus arrived, he wasn’t what they expected.

Instead of being a king, he was poor; instead of going to the off-licence, he turned water into wine; instead of staying dead, he came back to life. Preparing the way of the Lord was a nightmare. How can you prepare for something that is almost certain to surprise you?

Well, the answer is to improvise. So Jesus’ friends improvised, took risks, changed the plan. Peter stopped being a fisherman and started being a leader. Paul stopped being a bigot and started to love his enemies.

Whenever I finally took a risk on eight bars of unwritten trumpet, the song changed; not always for the better, but usually. So this week, I’ll prepare, and maybe I’ll follow the plan. But maybe, occasionally, I’ll give a little, listen, respond. Improvise. And I don’t know, but I reckon that might not just get me through the week but actually get me somewhere; somewhere more vulnerable and less secure, certainly, but also somewhere kinder, more exciting. Somewhere that just sounds better.