Sunday, June 26, 2011

Vampayre's Dilemma

I'd written musical pieces for some of the greatest princes and politicians of our time during the past five hundred years.  Most people struggle through thousands of lifetimes in different forms with different circumstances.  We reincarnate with people from our soul groups, old lovers, parents, friends, enemies.  But we don't remember.  Awakening comes more easily to some, less so to others.  But I am an advanced spirit who has been gifted with the chance to work through my soul lessons in the same form.  Though I did not view my circumstances favorably when I awakened a Vampayre the morning after the Bonfire of Vanities that took place in Florence in the year 1497.  I'd wanted to die with my wife, Fiora, who had been killed during the frenzy.  I have since learned to live without her.  Though I have never forgotten our connection or stopped looking into strangers' eyes, hoping for a spark of recognition.

As the days passed, I lost my taste for food and most drink. I was irritable.  Soon I realized that I couldn't tolerate noise or crowds and I'd begun to wander through the forests at night, seeking solace.  I couldn't accept or forgive my mentor, Piero Cesco, who had turned me into the creature that I was becoming.  I'd felt that he had controlled my life long enough and his last controlling act had severed our relationship for many centuries.  I turned to him again when my love, Jasmine, was embroiled in my feud with the Vampire Phisto.

Learning one's life lessons while inhabiting the same human vessel has its challenges, and benefits.  Now that I have found Jasmine, I don't want to move on.  I wanted to stay and love her as I hadn't been able to during our life in the Renaissance.  And there were challenges.  Phisto wanted Jasmine as well.  And I would do anything, even imperil my soul, to protect her from that fate.

Even advanced souls have lessons and I have learned that they tend to get more difficult as we advance.  The question is can we love the divine more than we love our egos and earthly infatuations?

Sunday, June 19, 2011

Violet Destiny

           The predeterminate moment is not when one succeeds but when one fails.  That is how I was able to accept my failure with humility and love for I knew that my interpretation would determine my fate, and Jasmine’s.  So I journeyed into the shadows of the pain that wracked my soul, not pain that I felt for my fate, but for Jasmine’s. And I remained shivering there for five months as I scratched away the days and focused on bathing my disappointment in loving light.
             I continued to love Jasmine with all of my five hundred years. And I knew that even though I had failed miserably, I hadn’t failed irrevocably.  If I kept my discipline and my love alive, I could still live to hold her against my aching chest.  Her lips would open once more to welcome my caress and we would be together, I knew…if I had the patience and the discipline.
            I could not survive without human breath, but I had been trained, three-hundred years ago, to thrive on the breath of spiritual energy or prana.  It was necessary that I concentrated on love and not revenge.  Revenge shred the soul and consumed more energy than love.  And I had enough love for my angel, Jasmine.  Love is the fuel that I used to slow my heartbeat and pulse rate. That was another technique that the yogis had taught me.  So I needed very little to survive.  And I slept in a web of love for five months awakening each day only to scratch the passing of another dawn on the lid of my coffin with my nails – that is the only activity that I allowed myself. Then I returned to my somnolent state and held her image, her voice, in my heart.  The more that I loved, the more love I had.  That and patience were my weapons. As each day passed, I was closer to stockpiling a powerful arsenal that could destroy only those without love, those without grace – those such as Phisto.  

Friday, June 3, 2011

The Violet Hour Before the Beginning - Parenting Self in the Void

I hadn't learned how to parent myself.  If one has to learn, 13 is not such an advanced age. But I think that I felt as helpless then as I would have felt had I been thirty or older still.  Parenting I think is in the little things like knowing just when to go to bed.  If you're half an hour too late you feel it the next day. And if you're too early, you don't have the time that you need the night before.  It's an art form really.  That's why so few women are good mothers.  Art, like life, is in the details.  But it took me many years to learn that.

Grappa was mother, father, friend and well grandfather to me.  But after the nightmares and my loss of speech he took me to a well known voice teacher, the best really.  But she was an older woman and I grew to idolize her because she helped me to find my voice.  It's not just that she discovered that I was a singer, but she really enabled me to speak from the heart.  And for me that was singing.  Few people ever find their authentic voice, mine just happened to be through music.  The journey was long and arduous and I didn't realize the destination when we started, as if often the case.  I just felt her warmth and concern so when she taught me to breathe from my diaphragm with long deep breaths that filled my lungs, ribcage and back with air, it released some of the tension that had swollen and engorged inside.  We practiced the breathing exercises until it felt like my first language.  I learned to inhale deeply before I did anything.  So when I spoke again, it gave me time to consider my words and to choose them with greater care.

Then one day Marlena taught me to phonate or put sound to the breath.  We started with trills which was like humming on pitch.  I was amazed at how easily the trills flowed and bubbled from the reservoir of deep, rich breath that I stored in my body.  My inner world was no longer silent, it was filled with sound.  And the sound nourished me. I didn't have to ask the hard questions or wait for the even more difficult answers.  i could communicate from a much safer distance that was controlled by vibration and pitch - music.  That became my only reality.  And I was satisfied.