Empfehlung

In case you guys want to use the rest of the Summer for getting unrusty or trying a new language, or even are planning to take on a new language when Summer is over, I've found this great website you might enjoy: Livemocha.com is a community website with neat, free courses in several languages and other cool resources such as flashcard sets, dialogues sorted by difficulty levels and live chat for language practice with natives or other learners of the language you're studying. All for free. You can also tutor/help students in a language you master, and last week they've released a podcast for advanced learners. I've been studying German there for two weeks now, and I'm quite excited about my results already.

Visit Livemocha.com. In case you decide to join, add me as a friend there:

http://www.livemocha.com/profiles/view/816386

Image: Neuschwanstein, emerging from the fog.

A Step in Faith

My issues with pitch are still haunting me, to the point of considering giving up the closest thing I have to a life purpose, so I decided I'd do what got me unstuck and took me to new places against all odds many times before: pretend like I have no other choice than insisting. And I've just ordered through Amazon.com W. A. Mathieu's "The Listening Book". Sheer intuition and wise irrationality. I'm proud of that.

I'll probably read his other works in the Future, too.

Threshold

The engagement, a numerologist friend, monsters under my bed, shades of Saturn's Return already, die-hard old habits in check, an impeccable and very sound cycle end in my blogging activity, and an eerie silence are announcing a new dawn.

And I feel like I have nobody to hold me, for better and for worse.

Wonderstock, new round

Again, the Waning Year opens the pages of my Pressed Faeries Book, and all the fantastic fauna that has been haunting my kitchen pops out to dance on air like fireworks.

I’ve taken on the task of reproducing my blog on a new account I’ve opened on Blogspot.com since I’m unemployed, experiencing tranquility and deep grounding in the new home/Old World, and generally open to the blessings of the Universe again. And, naturally, ready to take it in from the Man In The Mirror (who—truth be told—changed a lot over three years and 200 entries!).

Through reading posts and comments with the right state of consciousness and an eye of a miner, gold surfaces. Gods, I love my junk!

I am reminded of and impressed with how far I have travelled with baby steps. Witnessing my own unfolding in retrospect teaches that great spiritual powers like Resiliency and Commitment are not born neither inborn, but rather gathered along the road with delicate memos you write yourself on the best moments, wound-licking on the worst, and the lessons you are taught through it all. When shared with a community tuned to the same frequency, Time speeds up and the next blessing ripens before the next need sprouts.

I watched both from the outside (in Time) and in 1st person memory rerun how the sprouting, the growing, the blooming and the strengthening of the roots take place. Most comments were right: no matter the weed and the toxin they feed you, over the long haul you’ll grow strong and shine your light. Weather is everchanging, but the stuff of dreams is forever. A vision charged with Passion is all it takes to drive the flowerbud through the green stem. The best lessons in an environment that’s making everything possible to deter life force.

Overseeing the whole process, fortunately recorded, evaluated and commented on the Book of the Crossroads, I have come to understand how every episode, merry or not, is part of a longer journey, and the direction is very important. I see now how my days in São Paulo were a necessary stepping stone toward a greater fulfilment as a human being. I could see, too, how I wanted to hold on to it, resisting in letting go of it. Who can blame me? It was probably the most successful stage of my life and the most organic growth I have ever experienced. The Springtime of a whole lifetime condensed in two years. I wanted it to last forever. And now I know it can...

I see how much of the flora I have grown and the fauna I have bred in these 200 entries are fruits of the ways I have chosen to tread, or just random acts of kindness and senseless acts of beauty from generous fellow travellers I crossed paths with at some point. For almost three years, this has definitely been the Book of the Crossroads in that sense.

As the garden of commenters grew (and indeed in many instances the comments were more remarkable than the entries), new colours started to be added to the black-and-white so typical of vile juvenile thinking, creating the Rainbow pattern so typical of actual maturity: inclusive, accepting, open to change. Dreams were left along the way, some just buried in an (actual) time capsule, and many sprouts that I took for granted grew to be my personal Anandabodhi in many occasions. Above all, I gracefully built many relationships on the grateful foundations of honesty, sharing, trust and kindness.

What a long journey. It’s depressingly easy to forget and let go of all I’ve earnt, built and created along the way, and how integrated I have been with my community and my environment. So, I’m really glad I have everything recorded. The next step will be applying tags to entries, and then on to the third and most groundbreaking round of Operation Wonderstock: my Morning Pages!

Whatever appreciation for my writing people manifest, truth is that nothing can pay the gratitude I feel right now for living in Wonderland. Wherever I physically am.

Thank you. All.

Improvisation

Once I blogged about my first vocal coach here in Madrid, and Khrysso promptly commented on the entry:

"Hope you love it!! (And that you don't get your improvisational abilities trained out of you, but I think you're old enough for that not to happen.)"

In my session last night with my current, heaven-sent coach, I had a great insight on how much of what many previous (bad) coaches tagged as "tone-deafness", including the Cuban girl I was blogging about who wound up ditching me because of that, were actually the inability to recognise what is, what isn't and where (not) to use Improvisation.

For some unknown reason, I have that stuff that made Jazz the most respected of non-European musical traditions running deep in my blood. I don't remember listening too much to Jazz when I was young, or even in the past few years. I also didn't become so enthusiasted about Seán-Nós or other Celtic improvised singings until very late in my teens, but now when I start a lied by Mozart, I ornament, and change measure, intervals and whole musical phrases, always faithful and committed to the harmony, lyrics and chords. An actually tone-deaf person would never be able to do that.

I'm apparently good in Improvisation. So good it's been making me sound horrible sometimes.

Question now is: Khrysso how come you knew I had "improvisational skills" before you ever heard me?

The Mage I Am

Your result for What Mage Are You?...

Bard

"Your fates whisper softly; we sing it boldly."

Bards delight in novelty. They are optimistic, enthusiastic, and vivacious, craving expressions of strong emotion. With a dramatic flair, they share their experiences with others, hoping to reveal some universal truth or win others over in support of a cause. Attuned to possibilities, Bards scan their environment, probing the emotions, needs, and motivations of others. This sensitivity sometimes conflicts with their intense drive for personal authenticity. Spontaneous and personable, they attract others to their company.

They are initiators of change, keenly perceptive of possibilities. They energize and stimulate others through their contagious enthusiasm. They prefer the start-up phase of a project or relationship, and are tireless in the pursuit of new-found interests. Bards are able to anticipate the needs of others and to offer them needed help and appreciation. They bring zest, joy, liveliness, and fun to all aspects of their lives. They are at their best in situations that are fluid and changing, and that allow them to express their creativity and use their charisma. They tend to idealize people, and can be disappointed when reality fails to fulfill their expectations. They are easily frustrated if a project requires a great deal of follow-up or attention to detail.

Bards seek continuity through harmonious relationships and collective values. They excel at picking up on the tone of a situation and acting accordingly, adding warmth to a cool setting or turning sour into sweet. They naturally seek to know what people do well, what they enjoy, and where and how they work. They seem to have an infinite number of acquaintances from all walks of life and are always on the lookout for people in need and those who can help out. Bards weave and strengthen the collective fabric of social conventions and interactions. Inclusiveness is important and they are particularly sensitive to those who are excluded.

They are masters of transforming reality to story – and vice versa. Their voice and bodies developed over time to contain magic. When they sing or dance, when they move amongst others people grow calm and many gather to listen. Foes will lose everything, even their hearts. Bards are walking enchantments, masters of illusion and charm. One might never know their losing the battle until they wake up - that is if they do. Most are diviners, capable of telling the stories to come.

Take What Mage Are You? at HelloQuizzy

Tuning Fork

I don't know if everybody has a regular check-in with grounding and vibe-shifting tools and tricks, but I know everybody should. For me, Reiki, Triple Soul work, Morning Pages and incubatory sleep do the trick pretty well, but absolutely nothing in this world works better than a powerful story. And ever since I began taking Wonderstock in my blog, a few golden oldies have become very evident to me.

Today I went to Filmoteca Española with my friends from the therapy group to watch "Brokeback Mountain" for the fourth time in the movie theatre. Old readers of my blog have seen how this same story, whether the original tale written by Annie Proulx for The New Yorker, or Ang Lee's tremendously powerful rendition of the tale for the silver screen, changed gears, grounds and grasps in central directives of my life, but it is just amazing how the same story can disclose new vistas and open up greater levels of understanding everytime it is well told to you.

This time what woke me up wasn't the just-say-yes-and-leap part that broke my heart three years ago when I was on the verge of leaving my whole life behind and stepping into the unknown. This afternoon, I became self-conscious in relating to a significant other, how to set priorities for two, and how to just treasure the simple pleasure of having a good man (or a good toy) to spend quality time with. To create a solid bond with that which you long for. How many times in the past twenty years have you spent quality time with someone or something that is important to you? I'm thrilled to have it shoven in my face in a painful way. Privilege.

Easier said than done, I know, when you have fear all around you, when you are used to it, so used to fear that you attract more fearful people and build a fortress of fear around, so that love cannot cross the icy walls and break you free. A person like Ennis is haunted by a programming that won't let him live. So do we. It's our mission and quest to break that chain.

Like a fiddle or a choir director, people need tuning forks to make sure they keep playing on the desired pitch. Throughout my adult life, "Brokeback Mountain" has been the a constant, reliable one.

Gods save Annie Proulx, Ang Lee and the hot Ledger/Gyllenhaal couple.

Longing

Because I'm from a generation that still had role models among mainstream musicians, and because the tickets to Loreena McKennitt's concert here in Madrid were so fucking expensive, I decided I'd just crash into Conde Duque and seize the opportunity to see one of my favourites live at least for once in my life.

Plans A (hiding in the library's loo), B (overhearing the concert from another part of the facility, behind the stage and open to anybody) and C (a glamour) didn't work, so I just stood in the gate, listening to the songs and looking at part of the audience. At some point, a short, grumpy guy elbowed me to the side and left, followed by his partner. Because she and I probably have something in common, something clicked and her green eyes shone when she handed me her own ticket. "¿Quieres?" I can't remember if I looked at her again after looking at the ticket, although I do remember saying "muchas gracias" twice, and I skipped all the way to the standing up zone, right on time to catch the beginning of the last song on the set list, "Amhrán Duit", which is Gaelic for "Your Song"--but in that instance it was really MINE.

Then the set list was over. When she and her nine-piece orchestra came back for the bis, they did an instrumental theme that's probably inedit, because I've never heard it anywhere in my whole Loreena McKennitt collection. And after that, she performed her "Penelope's Song", a supernatural and very human hymn to all the feelings of longing, love and Faith against all odds the wife of Ulysses nurtured for twenty years, waiting and keeping suitors at bay. Impossible to not feel honoured with that song, given that I had longed to meet McKennitt for many long years myself.

Fact is, unless you're a full-time Buddha, permanently in your Samadhi, or you're a miserable, repressed loser, you probably have longed for something, somebody or some place in your life, so Penelope is everything that Humanity means in its most faithful and honest state. Nurture your longing, no matter how far it seems to be. The longing itself is another name for Life.

So, for the homebound lover and her far-sailing beloved, for the Canadian bard and her Greek Muse, for the starry-eyed fan and his stellar idol, here's the song, dedicated to all the Stars that shine between you and the generous strangers, you and the object of your longing, and you my reader and me, in these mysterious, invisible Crossroads that ride the Black virgin fields of all spaces:




Image: Penelope said no to many suitors, and remained faithful to Ulysses throughout his long absence of twenty years. Weave on your visions, and never let go.