Two and a half hours into a meeting that is running late. Clever things are being said, lightly peppering the waves of noise blaring out of people who must be heard.

Thirty frustrated people. And a couple of angry ones. And a State Minister who is very much asleep.

I should have been out of here an hour ago. OMG that issue has been dealt with – why are you bringing it up again?

I’m hungry.

Deep breath – it is not possible for this to go on for all eternity.

Or is it? – I’m sure stranger things have happened in this Ministry.

It’s 4:30 and I’m jolted back to myself. There must be a minaret just outside the window. The call to prayer feels like it is being sung in the Board Room – A beautiful, clear, steady voice. No one registers this. I struggle to continue to listen to the content of the meeting – my ear is drawn to the wonderful singing. It’s Easter Sunday, and I’m captivated by the sound of the faith that surrounds me.

I allow myself to drift in the sound: my body is at the table, but my mind certainly isn’t.