Still on

My story with the German language sounds too much like a sugary love story, with the perfect combination of serendipty and obstacles. And overcoming.

It all began when my vocal coach and I started a new Lied by Mozart, "Warnung", and then "Abendempfindung". Mozart is good for singing students, and I particularly love his songs. And that Jessye Norman's interview I had read several years ago still echoed in my mind. She was giving concerts in Brazilian cities and the newspaper my father subscribed to asked her if she was singing anything in Portuguese, to which she replied, "oh no, I'm sorry but I only sing in a language I can speak, it's more honest with the audience". So I figured that if I was going to sing in German, it would be less than artistic to do so without an understanding of what I was saying--and no, a translation in mind wouldn't do.

So, serendiptiously, a friend on Facebook invited me to this language learning online community still in its Beta version and free, Livemocha. They had an online course that wasn't really that good, but the community was vibrant, helpful and thriving. People actually helped each other without any expectation of reward. On there, I made several new friends, some of which recommended me further sources and tools, and I got from Ina, a German teacher of her native language in Paris, the heads-up for Deutsche Welle, which along with its amazing, free courses and podcasts (that I use to this day), became one of my favourite playgrounds in the web. I was with the Deutsch Interaktiv course for less than a year, but I completed the whole thing. During this time, I also had a language exchange with my German friend Tatjana, and after a whole year learning together, we flew to Zürich for Europride, and I enjoyed the opportunity to talk to the locals in German, and did pretty well.

Now, all of this was between Summer'08 and Spring '09. In May '09 I took an entrance exam at the local language school here in my neighbourhood (language learning in Europe is so cheap, convenient and easy!). Nobody I told, not even myself at first flush, could believe the results: after one year without classes or presential courses, they gave me the fourth year of the whole six-year program, corresponding to level B1.2 of the Common European Framework for Languages!

I was so enthusiastic about German now, that I resolved to make it the center of my life. Everything else I had invested in didn't work, but German did, and so smoothly that I didn't have the heart to deny a single second of my free time to this beautiful, beautiful language. So I invested the whole Summer in taking yet another course on Deutsche Welle's website, and got ready for another year of immense headway.

Then came Autumn, and because I had been unemployed, the Spanish government gifted me with a free course in Webdesigning. The course, aimed at unemployed people, was fulltime and every single day of the week, and I couldn't go to the language school until well into December. But I never let go of the position there, waiting for me.

When I finally managed to receive my first live lesson in German ever, I left the classroom with mixed feelings. I was much more able to speak and communicate in the language than I had imagined, and with real books and a class structure, I had such a marvellous nourishing environment that as a language teacher myself I knew would be extremely beneficial to me. But the teacher was an idiot. So were all of my classmates.

Of course, the whole thing by then had affected my ego, but the way my peers at school, teacher and fellow students, behaved was so disheartening that it was hard for me to adapt to that. I held my ground and exercised my patience, but also spoke only German during the class, brought always my monolingual dictionary with me, handed in all homework on time, arrived punctual, seized every second of every lesson, kept track of time and goals of every exercise, joined all group activities with a vision of learning and camaraderie. Even though none of the colleagues did so. And even though the teacher discouraged it.

Now the course has come to an end. Wednesday was our last class, and we were left with 40% of the book/contents blank and untouched. And the friends were confused. And the teacher was looking like a failure in front of the class. And I was a bit brokenhearted, since I had been living a romantic dream with those lessons, not just a chore.

They spent the whole year messing around and letting it all down the drain. Over these last couple of weeks, they were asking me for private lessons while waiting for the teacher, always late. I gave them. Now I'm sure until the final examinations, in middle of June, I'll have them ask me again. But I'll refuse this time. I don't need to feed their bad habits. They need to ask that from the teacher, not from a friend they laughed at. I need to focus and work on the contents that weren't taught in class, so that I don't miss this opportunity and fail in the finals. We've got much to study. I want to pass, and I know how to do this. I have done before.

I know this is the next hurdle, and I'm ready for it.

Grace

It doesn't matter how much abuse you've suffered, or what happened to you, if you show yourself everyday the Grace that there is in the love your Divine Parent has for you, and the natural state of being that Love is, you will realise what is true and what is not. You will realise yourself. And this means taking nobody else's shit.

Today I am thankful.

Waxing Mystical

Never underestimate the power a day without dates or plans has to transform things.

After a Saturday swept away by cleaning, household drama, and a soccer meeting followed by helping a friend getting laid, Sunday began lazy. Whatever little I had planned to do (cook lunch, German homework), all was clear and checked by noontime, and the long, late Springtime afternoon that follow set Magic afoot: listening to an Abraham Vortex workshop, blog-reading and blog-writing, a reading with my Osho Zen Tarot, interesting discussions in Internet forums, shopping for books online (dangerous one!), and revitalising the Witchcraft training I began in March. I wound up ordering a book on Amazon on Astral Travel. Perfect!

Things are moving again.

Image: Abyssinian Hare, by Jeff Kerby.

Summer Vistas

The heat season has begun, I guess. I already feel like staying in an air-conditioned room all day when I'm not away, and making as many travel plans for the Summer as possible and affordable. So far, I've got Germany, Brazil and Wales/England.

Berlin will be my 2nd live-abroad experience, and I'm definetely looking forward to it. And hoping that the bastards at the Spanish government pay me on time for the work I did for them last month. This is the money I'll use to book the flight and rent a room in the German capital and apparently world's coolest city for 2 weeks or one whole month, in order to practice my German and network as much as possible in yet another culture.

Wales and England are a gift from the husband. He wants to visit a friend who lives there, and he knows I identify a lot with the culture, so he's bringing me with him.

Brazil is where my family of origin and the best friends I have in this Universe live, so I want to go back for refreshment and an identity fix.

If everything goes right, and I expect it does, I'll manage to spend the whole heat season out of this overpriced oven that is Madrid in the Summer.

Image: Unter den Linden's Festival of Lights, from http://www.flickr.com/photos/webinteger

Function of Time #4: Memory

It's late already, I'm dead-tired from a hard day of work and school, and I still want to sit and write this. The English language doesn't have many words for this feeling, so I say I "want" to write, but it's actually a special type of "want". It's not backed by enthusiasm, inspiration or lust. It's driven by a deep feeling of inadequacy, destitution and even maybe a little self-loathing.

I used to be good at this. I mean, better than I am now, and I used to change the world with every piece. I remember it, even though there is no evidence of this around me anymore, and this absence hurts me. I'm a slave to the memory of good times.

These past days I've been reminiscing about Brazil, about moving to Spain, about several things in the past, and how everything was so fresh, and so powerful, and so spontaneous, and nothing was as complicated as it is now. Songs have been coming back to me, the soundtrack of other times. "Dandelion Wine", "Marcas do Que Se Foi"...

Memory, actual or imaginary, is the raw material of storyteller's business. I've traded freshness for stories, and I've got quite a few to tell by now.

My blogging is about to change.

Image: tree spirit carved by Colin Patridge.

Function of Time #3: Maturity

It might be said that Maturity is the goal we as Birds decided to pursue when we came forth into the Physical. I personally disagree, but it is definetely not just a byproduct, but a process of Time, and Time is definetely characteristic of the Physical.

As a young brat, I never had any respect for the concept and the propaganda that revolved around maturity. But once it's here and you know it in your flesh, you know it's a good thing. Maturity has helped me sift, sophisticate and sediment my personal preferences, dreams and talents. Maturity allows more choice and a clever use of resources. Maturity has gifted me with the greatest of gifts, self-awareness. Maturity has pushed me to the edge, where the view is breathtaking. Maturity lets me have more fun.

On the other hand, I've been experiencing the feeling that the older you get, the harder it is to develop beneficial relationships. Boundaries are clearer, selfish intentions have a stronger call. And stupid games are just not necessarily part of the courtship anymore. Or at least, shouldn't.

Right now, I'm silently, elegantly letting go of quite a few relationships I've been cultivating for a while now. They just don't work, and aren't worth so much fuss. I'm not so enthusiastic about Couchsurfing anymore and I'm okay about admitting that. The vegetarians kept me company for two years, but are mostly gone by now. There are many people out there to meet, but frankly, not many of them are going to join my circle anyway. So, no rush. Time will reveal what I need to know, and provide.

This might be the first time in my life I'm truly fine with the idea of being alone.

Image borrowed from: http://really-rose.blogspot.com/

Function of Time #2: Cycle

Even though the last one was certainly not natural and maybe a bit too long, this blog has seen inherent ups and downs in the frequency of new writings. Likewise, most types of relationships have an unstoppable crescendo and an according waning that follows, possibly to extinction. Do I have to say anything about mood and personal vibration? There's a cycle to everything. And as I'm sure I've written here, there's Power and Joy in joining the prospective growth, as well as Grace and Divinity in letting go of what's inevitably fading away.

I guess I'm in a period of reassessing and renovating my social circle. Couchsurfing, which was my favourite playground for a long time, just doesn't do it for me anymore. A vibrant community of world-travellers and edgy creators has withered to a meet-up line for retarded post-teenagers wanting to get drunk together spending as little money as possible. Or am I becoming old?

Some of the real friends I made there turned out to be disfunctional relationships based on mistrust and feelings of leeriness. One is only good as a party animal, and the relationship doesn't take off from there. The other is obsessed with words that MIGHT come across as "negative" and "put people down", deterring from heartful connection and sincere communication. A third one is too cool for the rest of the world. And obviously there're the ones who went away on time.

Other friends I met on other crossroads are naturally gone, too. I gotta be changing, and I'm praying that the familiar knowledge that change is good if it brings me closer to my highest vision for my Self comes back to me.

So are some relationships going away, gracefully. Others are on the way. And I'm retriving my blogging magic. My natural being. Back to the beginning? Might be. But wherever I am now, I'm ready for another journey circle round.

Pop. The Black Pearl is back from Davy Jones' Locker. With Captain Sparrow on board!

All in all, it's a pleasant surprise and a perfect moment to see Tribe finally active again. Makes me wonder if there's actually an end for everything. And feel warm inside.

Image: Robert Lyn Nelson's "Society". He was the first favourite painter I've ever had. I had several t-shirts with paintings by him printed on them.

Function of Time #1: Moment

You see, I've been away for too long now, but I am very much still fascinated by the Time Element, and still learning from it. Right now, my favourite function of Time is Momentum. You know, this wave I've been missing time and time again in my Writing: Spring Equinox, Beltane, the day I applied for my Spanish citizenship, my 30 birthday. Not necessarily in this order, and definetely not only these.

Today I watched the power of Moment in human interactions and desires. My keen perception is something that takes me beyond gratitude these days. I don't know if I have anything else as valuable to me. The story happens on what I consider the biggest priviledge of my life in Spain, my gay men's yoga and meditation group. Indeed, the vast majority and almost totality of regulars is gay males, and on some days something (if not the Moon itself, probably a conspiracy of the Stars) decides that it's Time for heat. And from the beginning of the session on, there is a sharp scent of rutting stag in the air, filling the room throughout nevertheless perfect and very rewarding Yoga, meditation session, Heart Circle and other zen practices for three long hours. Then comes dinner as a group in a vegetarian restaurant.

Today was one of these special days. Fortunately, coinciding with my husband being out of town for the whole weekend. Before long, it was clear to everybody who would stay with who by the time dinner was over--some of them left in pairs immediately after we left the Yoga center. My favourite Tantra partner was all affection and physical intimacy with another friend. Some others avoided the swoosh by fleeing home. I was paired by chance with an old flirt, who happened to be in a bad moment: fresh split-up, resentment against his ex, high expectations, excessive focus on his emotional wounds, lack of trust in men in general.

I have this theory that Mr. Right is definetely not the right guy, but the right moment. My guy for tonight was in the wrong one. And as the others all came home accompanied, I came all by myself. He did, too.

I just didn't want to miss another moment and not post this here. I still hope I may be back to blogging.