Medium Extra Large

I had my first contact with an honest-to-goodness medium yesterday. I am still not distanced enough from my nearly two and a half hour conversation with Allan, so it will be difficult to give it the perspective that it really deserves. It was interesting and enlightening, I will tell you that.

I was especially interested in knowing about my immediate future, of course, as I am leaving Pforzheim and am planning on not looking back. In the cards, though, are the two major possibilities of a professorship or a new contract as a soloist. I came into the conversation with him, not knowing quite what to expect, as a medium is one who usually communicates with relatives or loved ones who have passed over to the other side. I really don't have that many dead relatives, so I was curious to know how this would all work.

But Allan is a much more special soul than just someone who relays messages from the other side. He is someone who is able to interpret the meanings of messages passed onto him, and someone who can read you and your intentions, and help you along your path. In a lot of ways, I would say that calling Allan a medium is a bit of an injustice as his knowledge of 'how life works and why' has a certain wisdom that is really very, very rare. It was a joy to talk to him and I hope that I can again.

I was happy to know that there is singing in my future. He seems to think that I will be offered a couple of teaching opportunities here in Germany, but will end up turning them down for a singing contract that comes up. That would make sense. I mean, it is true; I would pick a singing contract over teaching at this point in my life. He also said that he seems to think that my time in Germany will only last for the next 2 or 3 years and that I will then go back to America to somewhere in the Midwest, maybe Chicago. Time is always a little rough around the edges for someone like this, so the idea of 2 or 3 years is simply a gross estimate.

My mother's mother came through in the session, even though she died when I was quite young. She wasn't there to relay a message of any kind, she was just holding a green wreath. I have no idea what this means. Also, a shorter, round lady was there, but I have no idea who that was. I was hoping that Renée would come through, a friend of mine that passed on around 10 years ago, but no sign of her.

Allan was very emphatic about my relationship with Chris. Interestingly, he asked why it was that I came to Germany. "Well, I always thought that it was to come to find a singing job here," I said. "But, now that I have more perspective, I would have to say that I came here to meet Chris." Allan then responded with a strong "Yes!" at this. I had had the inclination before I came to Germany that I would meet my life partner there, and that there was a kind of secondary meaning fro my trip other than just the singing, but my mind was strong and goal-oriented and downplayed the second thing, which turned out to be the most important thing of all.

Allan was very understanding about what kind of person I am, telling me that I am intelligent and have spent my whole life acquiring knowledge in many different fields (not a bad insight considering he told me this after having spoken no more than 10 words with him.) He said that I had, for a long time, tried to use my mind to gather knowledge about singing, and that I felt, at some level, that my art was a lot more about technique and knowledge than about "soul." Allan re-enforced my inklings that I need to continue on my spiritual trek in order to make my singing better. My connection with God, a connection that I seek very strongly, will greatly change my singing. And, this connection with God will allow so many of my problems with nerves to simply melt away, because the only thing that will be important while I am singing will be God and me and this "connection" that he is talking about. In that moment, the audience's like or dislike of what I do will no longer be important, the connection with the Divine taking entire precedence.

He was very perceptive about my relationship with my fellow man, having felt for most of my life that I am an outsider from my "tribe" and that I am not understood by people around me. I thought that, too, was very insightful. I have always wanted to be a hermit of some kind, escaping from Man if possible, because it is Man that has hurt me so much.

Allan thinks that I have much to learn from Chris on a spiritual level, also re-enforcing an idea that both Chris and I have with each other—that we love each other all the more because we are better people for being together. But, Chris as a spiritual model? That was a surprise. I have much to learn from Chris, though, I have to admit. That it be in this area without me knowing simply means that I have been blind to the fact. Allan says that what I have with Chris is a very, very special thing that very few people in this world have the luck to encounter. It is true, and I do feel very grateful. I can honestly say that my love for Chris grows with every passing day, and that I love him more today than even when we first met. There aren't many couples than can boast that!

I feel that, although I was very connected to a spiritual path when I was younger, that I somehow, probably for my own survival, abandoned "believing" so much and became, instead, reliant solely on my intellect. I have to turn back to my spirituality now, and seek a better relationship with God. This is something that I know is true.

The conversation with Allan was a profound one, which gives me a nice push along my path. It helps me to know that I am going in the right direction. As well, it is good to know that some of the facets of my journey should not be ignored.

So you see, although, many of you reading this probably thought I was nuts when you say the word "medium" at the beginning of this post, very few of you probably think that I am nuts now that I explain, right? Sometimes you have to think outside of the box in order to better yourself, and that includes me.

Who?

Had another one of those psychic revelations that woke me up in the middle of the night. I guess I am going to meet someone soon that will have a profound influence on my musical career. Hmm. Well, we'll see. Hopefully it's an agent! :)

Speaking of the Devil...

Has the New York Times been reading my blog again and stealing my ideas? (See: "Mitt Romney is the Devil" 30 September, 2006.)

"As he begins campaigning for the Republican presidential nomination, Mitt Romney, the former Massachusetts governor, is facing a threshold issue: Will his religion — he is a Mormon — be a big obstacle to winning the White House? Polls show a substantial number of Americans will not vote for a Mormon for president." -NY Times, today.

I hate to say I told you so. But there is no way in hell that a Mormon will be the President of the United States. Not in my lifetime, anyway.

Ironclad

Things have just been absolutely crazy. I have no idea what I have done to have brought this onto myself, but people are just throwing tantrums right and left about things that I supposedly did or did not do.

On Sunday, I was originally going to see Chris and his family in his hometown, where they were having a party for Chris' brother-in-law. But, Chris was behaving badly, giving me a hard time about what time my train was to arrive, and insisting that I get up at the crack of dawn in order to take another one. The J. does not get up at the crack of dawn. I thought everyone, including my own Life Partner knew that…

So, I got up late an went, instead, to visit my friend Betsy in Wiesbaden. She had the day off...I would spend the night there and come back to Pforzheim on Monday morning. Cool. I haven't seen her in a while and she is probably my closest friend here.

Betsy has been going out with Mirko for about a year now (an estimation because I'm really not sure.) The both of them went with us on vacation to Mallorca in the fall. We had a few bumps here and there, but overall the trip was a good one.

When I arrived at Betsy's house, Mirko opened the door, showed me in, and then immediately retreated to the den, shut the door, and started listening to music. So Betsy and I sat around the table, eating chocolate and chatting. I started to feeling better and we had some fun making jokes and laughing. Then, I said "Do you remember when we took our trip to Mallorca." We started talking about it, reminiscing at the beautiful views we saw, the beaches, etc.

Then, in the greatest mistake possible, completely unbeknownst to me at the time, I got up and went to the den, to try to inspire Mirko to come out and share in the memories with us. I knocked, opened the door, looked at Mirko with a big smile on my face and said, "Do you remember our trip to Mallorca?"

Uncomfortable silence.

"And…" he said.
Stunned at his face, you know the kind that could stop a clock, I said,
"That's all," and closed the door and went back to the table.

I tried not to dwell on fussy pants, and just went back to the table and continued my conversation with Betsy. I figured, if he didn't want to come out and have fun with us, then there wasn't much I could do about it. At least he knew that he was invited.

About five minutes later, Mirko comes storming out of the den and says, in an extremely gruff and direct voice,
"I would like to know what you meant by that. I mean what in the world is the underlying meaning behind such a statement as that."
I was shocked, but absolutely determined to not let him get me angry, so I just smiled and said.
"None."
"Well, I don't know who you think you are coming into my house trying to provoke me like that" as he retreated to the den, slamming the door behind him.

Shock.

Bewilderment.

"Huh?" I said.
"What was THAT?" she said.

We try to ignore.

"He must just be in a bad mood," I said. "Just ignore it, I'm sure he'll come around," I said.

We tried to talk about other things, those things being punctuated every few minutes or so by a horribly pitiful look of Betsy's as she tried to grasp what in the world was going on in her boyfriend's mind.

"Just forget about it. Let's not let it ruin our day," I tried.

So, we go to the living room. I had some movies on my computer and Betsy and I started to watch Talladega Nights, a very, very funny movie. It really gets rednecks so precisely, yet so tongue and cheek. Beautiful.

About 20 minutes into the film, Mirko comes into the living room, having changed into his tracksuit.

"I'm going on a run, and when I get home, I had better hear an apology from you for your actions. I live here, too, you know, and what you did is just unacceptable," he growls at me.

Shock, again.

Guess we're not going to watch the movie. Betsy, poor Betsy, tells me about the problems that Mirko and she have been having, that her patience has been warring thin for quite a long time, that as Mirko was yelling at me, she looked into his face and didn't know who he was. What could he be thinking? In what way had he misinterpreted my meaning to think that it was something horribly rude? It was all beyond us. It was certainly beyond me.

He eventually comes back from his run, comes into the living room, and sits down.
"I am ready to hear what you will say to me," he says, in a very official-sounding German.
"Well, I think that you have misunderstood me…"
He interrupts, "No, I don't want to discuss it. You simply have to apologize." He begins to yell. "You either apologize or get out." He stands up and moves toward the door.
I finally lose my temper, "How dare you!?" my voice raises. "I am a guest in your home. You do not know me well enough to speak to me in such a way! I ask you if you 'Remember our trip to Mallorca' and from that you think that you have the ground to insult me like this? You are incredibly rude!"
"You didn't mean it that way. You need to leave."
Betsy loses it. "No, Mirko, YOU need to leave."
He walks out, she follows, they continue screaming at each other in the other room.


You know, it has been a long time since I believed in the devil. I don't think there is some little guy with a trident and a tail who lives somewhere in the burning netherworld, patiently chuckling to himself as he awaits my soul to roast over his ever-burning embers. I just don't believe it. I don't think there are evil spirits, demons or their minions who roam the world reeking havoc on the non-believers. It's just a bunch of scare-tactic hoopla, as far as I'm concerned.

But, so much negativity has been spilled on me over the past month, out of mouths that claim the title of "friend"; so much bile and hatred has been directed toward me, fired like a laser directed at my heart. And all of this at a time in my life when I am finally feeling at one with myself, a time when I am really able to delineate between what I need to care about and what can be left to the wayside. This is the first time in my life that I really love to sing, the first time that I am able to be calm in spite of the storm around me. I feel I am coming into my own, and for that I am eternally grateful.

After all this Sunday drama had happened, and I was finally able to come home, the shock wore off enough to consider what had happened, and I just couldn't help but think that someone was out to get me. Maybe it was my fire and brimstone childhood that inspired this thought, but a little, cackling Beelzebub popped into my mind. That's right. Whereas I never really believed in the devil before, I was sure that he was testing me, carrying me to the edge of a precipice, forcing me to look over the edge into the abyss: to test my faith, my inner strength.

I am not sure about the whole Satan thing. But, the fact that a rational person like myself would even consider it certainly paints these last weeks the color that they need be hued.


But, I am resilient. Even if I have fallen off the horse not by the horse's bucks, but by being pushed by those around me, I will still get back on, and waste no time doing it. I feel like looking circumstance in the face, raising my fist and saying "Is that all you got?"

I ain't no one's bitch, and I won't let this overwhelming negativity from the world stop me, dammit.

I continue on.

Extry Extry: Robot People Decimate Boston

Uh. Ok, I just don't get this. I keep hearing about how the Cartoon Network, in a madcap publicity stunt, put up a whole bunch of light boards around the city of Boston. The police were called in. The bomb squad was called in. Trains were stopped, and the entire city was, in some way or another, crippled. It has been in all of the national and international newspapers, and is being eternally commented on blogs and podcasts. And, almost overwhelmingly, the public outcry has been something to the order of: those dumbass Cartoon Network guys. How could they have been so stupid?

Huh?

If I were to see a light board with a little robot on it, measuring maybe 1.5 feet by 1.5 feet and a couple of inches thick, I am not going to assume "bomb". But, that's because I am not paranoid and do not suspect that the whole world is out to get me. Have you seen pictures of this?



The little robot appeared on sign posts and buildings. Are people so stupid as to think that a device so small as that, even if it had been filled to the brim with TNT would cause real havoc?

Thank you Cartoon Network! You have successfully completed a large-scale psychological experiment and the results are obvious: Americans are living a life of anxiety and fear. They are allowing their entire existences to be governed by paranoia and angst.

I know that people hate to hear this kind of thing, mostly because people hate hearing the ugly truth about themselves, but this sort of thing would NEVER happen here. Never. (And don't give me this feeble excuse about 9/11 either! A friends mother came here recently for a visit and said that America is still healing from 9/11. That I can understand. It still hurts for me to think about it.)

But, should I live in fear because of it? A couple of guys put up some glorified Lite Brites powered by 5 D cell batteries around Boston and it shuts the entire city down? I mean, give me a break people. Get some fucking perspective.