Patman71
For well over a year now, I've been intermittently working on my first book. It is what the Germans would call a "Bildungsroman."
Definition: A bildungsroman :n/, German: "novel of education" or "novel of formation") is a novel which traces the spiritual, moral, psychological, or social development and growth of the main character from (usually) childhood to maturity. I came across this word while reading up on Goethe on the internet, as someone I met, upon hearing my doleful tale of obsessive love, mentioned certain parallels between my story and "The sufferings of young Werther." I felt pretty bad at times, but never shot myself in the head with a pistol, nor will I, so long as I can muster the strength to draw a single breath.
Anyhow, in the most recent readings I had, I asked whether my book would be published or not, the answer was a definite "Yes", but it would take some time to finish. That same reader has her own Radio Show here in Dublin, and when her next show was on air, I sent a text message asking about setting a deadline for the book. Her special guest for that show was a Vedic Astrologer, and he said some things about what he believed the book would be about that really hit home, and that there would be delays.
The presenter used her cards and had the same thing to say, lots of good ideas for the book, more than likely it will be successful, but there will be delays, and that I will not finish the book where I am currently living, and although my current financial situation prevents me from moving, a new job is coming soon.
Prior to that I visited a psychic who uses either palm readings or tarot cards. She told me that she personally found palm reading more accurate than reading the cards. Towards the end of that reading, I said to myself, don't forget to ask her about the book, and the next words out of her mouth were. "....and you will write a book." Weird, eh? She also told me about a new job coming soon, and a possible move.
A few weeks before that, I visited a reader who uses aural photography. He asked me my star sign; I'm a Taurian, and he continued to tell me a lot of things about my personality. The skeptic and scientist in me (I have a Bachelor's Degree in Electronic Engineering) thought it was just a cold reading, he was just probably describing the archetypal Taurian characteristics. Towards the end of the reading, he asked if I had any specific questions I would like to ask, at which time he used the tarot cards.
My first question pertained to my career prospects. "New job, in a new location, but I need to be patient." My second question was about the book. "Yes, it definitely will be published, but more that that, it will be commercially successful."
My third question was about my Sweet Warrior Foe, and would I ever see her again and be reconciled. He looked at the cards, looked at me, looked at the cards again and said, "Don't worry about that just now." He asked me to cut his Angle Oracle deck, Healing. He told me I have more healing to do, and should focus on that for the moment.
I shall move along with the narrative.
There is a male psychic who does readings in a pub in a small town in rural Ireland. Let’s call him Bill. He does not advertise at all and gets his clients through word of mouth. He is usually booked solid weeks in advance and has an excellent reputation. I went to see him about three years ago, and he was extremely accurate about things that had happened in the past, and was very specific about events that would come to pass. He told me I would live in a country with a hot climate for a short while, and this was before I enrolled in my MBA programmed and even knew about the possibility of going to China on an exchange programmed to complete my studies. I spent last summer in Shanghai writing my thesis. He also told me about a girl I would meet, whose name begins with a certain letter and who comes from a foreign country, we would be friends at first and then it would developed into something much deeper. We may possibly get married and live happily ever after, but first I would need to find out what I truly want in life.
He also told me that I would ultimately work for myself doing something artistic and creative, and be financially successful.
I more or less forgot the specifics of what he told me. Maybe a year later, I met a girl, we were friends at first, my feelings grew stronger for her with time, but they were not reciprocated. She liked me as a platonic friend; saw me as a confidant and a kind of a "big brother" figure. She was living here in Ireland, I had lived in her home country and spoke her language, and we had some very good conversations, often finishing eachother’s........, trite, isn't it.
I had known her maybe 6 or 8 weeks when I remembered what the psychic had told me, the foreign girl whose name begins with a certain letter. That's when I started to go crazy, I became totally obsessed with her, a girl I had never even kissed. I won't go into it here, though, it's all in the book.
To cut a long story short, I fell to pieces. She has left Ireland and has gone to live back in her home country. I'm coming to grips with the possibility that I will never see her more. That is what my logical brain is telling me, but my intuitive self, my anima (see Jung) still feels that we'll meet again some sunny day, don't know where, don't know when. (No, her name is not Vera, that's just a Pink Floyd song.)
I'm coming out of a long deep dark depression. I had a reading in Edinburgh on the first of June this year, while visiting that city for a job interview. The reader used the Golden Tarot Deck by Kat Black, and recorded the reading on audio tape. I was immediately drawn to the imagery and symbolism of there cards, and later, while listening to the tape, I decided to look up the card meanings on the internet, whenever a specific card was mentioned on the tape. This began my fascination with Tarot. My intuition may not be highly developed, but I believe it can be used as an aid to spiritual growth. In this reading, he told me the worste is behind me, and although it may be simply nothing more than the power of suggestion, it was around that time I finally turned the corner and began to see the light. (Aaahhh, look out, a car on the pavement heading straight for me.)
OK, now back to Bill, the psychic who reads in a pub in a small town in rural Ireland. I am finally coming to the point of this message.
I visited Bill last January. He had three decks face down on the table in the little private room in the back and asked me to pick one. At that time, I knew absolutely nothing about the tarot cards, I didn't even know how many cards were in a deck at that time!
I picked one deck, shuffled it and then he dealt out probably 24 or 30 cards in a rectangle, (6 X 4 or 6 x 5), I don't remember exactly. He asked to see my left palm, looked at it briefly and began to speak.
He talked about the creative process, how artist’s get inspiration to create, and how this can often arise from depression, or just general dissatisfaction with life. He brought my attention to one card, a male figure, and he told me that it represented me and my current situation. I looked at it and noticed that beside it, there was a card with a picture of a book! “What’s that?” I asked. “That’s your book!” He talked more about depression, and that there were some dark days ahead.
During the Spring, I went through my lowest time. My writing took a whole new direction as well. I stopped writing my novel and in stead I wrote a first draft of an absurdity play, somewhat inspired by the works of Samuel Beckett. There was centenary celebration here in Dublin in March, and all the media had Beckett fever. I got my hands on a copy of End Game off the internet, and read it and then recorded it when it was shown on television. I think it is very funny, some might say, dark, brooding, even macabre, but I think it is hilarious. This and other plays of its ilk inspired me to write a play where the characters are waiting on stage for the play to end, because it is so terrible, and nothing is really happening. Nobody knows how long it will last. During the play, they learn that they are not really actors on a stage but different facets of my personality, and that the play will not end until I start writing again. They have to amuse themselves while I months drinking heavily, smoking hash, listening to sad old country song like “If drinking don’t kill me (her memory will)” by George Jones. I bought a guitar and played around with it. All the time, I did no real writing, per se, I just scribble in a journal trying to convince myself I’m writing a play, but nothing comes, so the characters have to make up the dialogue themselves.
I was very bitter and angry about my abusive childhood and growing up in a dysfunctional home during all this time. I continued to see my councilor and went to Mass fairly regularly, but deep inside me there was a seething anger towards my father. I was always a bit skeptical about the Law of Attraction, that we attract into our lives what we think about most, and that our inner world creates our outer reality. I am not nearly as skeptical now, after my appendix turned gangrenous and had to be removed shortly before my 35th birthday. Was it Buddha who said “Anger is it’s own punishment.”?
Will you please get to the point, while we’re still young?
OK, then, since you asked so nicely.
In the ten weeks or so that I have been studying Tarot, I have not come across any deck that has a book on one of its cards. It was a large book, filling most of the card, with a blue cover, and no writing as far as I can remember. The pictures on the deck Bill used were similar to pictures one would find in Nursery Rhyme books from the fifties or sixties. Was this an oracle deck or a tarot deck, does anyone know?
By the way, if anyone is interested, today is a holy day of obligation in the Catholic calendar.
God Bless.
Definition: A bildungsroman :n/, German: "novel of education" or "novel of formation") is a novel which traces the spiritual, moral, psychological, or social development and growth of the main character from (usually) childhood to maturity. I came across this word while reading up on Goethe on the internet, as someone I met, upon hearing my doleful tale of obsessive love, mentioned certain parallels between my story and "The sufferings of young Werther." I felt pretty bad at times, but never shot myself in the head with a pistol, nor will I, so long as I can muster the strength to draw a single breath.
Anyhow, in the most recent readings I had, I asked whether my book would be published or not, the answer was a definite "Yes", but it would take some time to finish. That same reader has her own Radio Show here in Dublin, and when her next show was on air, I sent a text message asking about setting a deadline for the book. Her special guest for that show was a Vedic Astrologer, and he said some things about what he believed the book would be about that really hit home, and that there would be delays.
The presenter used her cards and had the same thing to say, lots of good ideas for the book, more than likely it will be successful, but there will be delays, and that I will not finish the book where I am currently living, and although my current financial situation prevents me from moving, a new job is coming soon.
Prior to that I visited a psychic who uses either palm readings or tarot cards. She told me that she personally found palm reading more accurate than reading the cards. Towards the end of that reading, I said to myself, don't forget to ask her about the book, and the next words out of her mouth were. "....and you will write a book." Weird, eh? She also told me about a new job coming soon, and a possible move.
A few weeks before that, I visited a reader who uses aural photography. He asked me my star sign; I'm a Taurian, and he continued to tell me a lot of things about my personality. The skeptic and scientist in me (I have a Bachelor's Degree in Electronic Engineering) thought it was just a cold reading, he was just probably describing the archetypal Taurian characteristics. Towards the end of the reading, he asked if I had any specific questions I would like to ask, at which time he used the tarot cards.
My first question pertained to my career prospects. "New job, in a new location, but I need to be patient." My second question was about the book. "Yes, it definitely will be published, but more that that, it will be commercially successful."
My third question was about my Sweet Warrior Foe, and would I ever see her again and be reconciled. He looked at the cards, looked at me, looked at the cards again and said, "Don't worry about that just now." He asked me to cut his Angle Oracle deck, Healing. He told me I have more healing to do, and should focus on that for the moment.
I shall move along with the narrative.
There is a male psychic who does readings in a pub in a small town in rural Ireland. Let’s call him Bill. He does not advertise at all and gets his clients through word of mouth. He is usually booked solid weeks in advance and has an excellent reputation. I went to see him about three years ago, and he was extremely accurate about things that had happened in the past, and was very specific about events that would come to pass. He told me I would live in a country with a hot climate for a short while, and this was before I enrolled in my MBA programmed and even knew about the possibility of going to China on an exchange programmed to complete my studies. I spent last summer in Shanghai writing my thesis. He also told me about a girl I would meet, whose name begins with a certain letter and who comes from a foreign country, we would be friends at first and then it would developed into something much deeper. We may possibly get married and live happily ever after, but first I would need to find out what I truly want in life.
He also told me that I would ultimately work for myself doing something artistic and creative, and be financially successful.
I more or less forgot the specifics of what he told me. Maybe a year later, I met a girl, we were friends at first, my feelings grew stronger for her with time, but they were not reciprocated. She liked me as a platonic friend; saw me as a confidant and a kind of a "big brother" figure. She was living here in Ireland, I had lived in her home country and spoke her language, and we had some very good conversations, often finishing eachother’s........, trite, isn't it.
I had known her maybe 6 or 8 weeks when I remembered what the psychic had told me, the foreign girl whose name begins with a certain letter. That's when I started to go crazy, I became totally obsessed with her, a girl I had never even kissed. I won't go into it here, though, it's all in the book.
To cut a long story short, I fell to pieces. She has left Ireland and has gone to live back in her home country. I'm coming to grips with the possibility that I will never see her more. That is what my logical brain is telling me, but my intuitive self, my anima (see Jung) still feels that we'll meet again some sunny day, don't know where, don't know when. (No, her name is not Vera, that's just a Pink Floyd song.)
I'm coming out of a long deep dark depression. I had a reading in Edinburgh on the first of June this year, while visiting that city for a job interview. The reader used the Golden Tarot Deck by Kat Black, and recorded the reading on audio tape. I was immediately drawn to the imagery and symbolism of there cards, and later, while listening to the tape, I decided to look up the card meanings on the internet, whenever a specific card was mentioned on the tape. This began my fascination with Tarot. My intuition may not be highly developed, but I believe it can be used as an aid to spiritual growth. In this reading, he told me the worste is behind me, and although it may be simply nothing more than the power of suggestion, it was around that time I finally turned the corner and began to see the light. (Aaahhh, look out, a car on the pavement heading straight for me.)
OK, now back to Bill, the psychic who reads in a pub in a small town in rural Ireland. I am finally coming to the point of this message.
I visited Bill last January. He had three decks face down on the table in the little private room in the back and asked me to pick one. At that time, I knew absolutely nothing about the tarot cards, I didn't even know how many cards were in a deck at that time!
I picked one deck, shuffled it and then he dealt out probably 24 or 30 cards in a rectangle, (6 X 4 or 6 x 5), I don't remember exactly. He asked to see my left palm, looked at it briefly and began to speak.
He talked about the creative process, how artist’s get inspiration to create, and how this can often arise from depression, or just general dissatisfaction with life. He brought my attention to one card, a male figure, and he told me that it represented me and my current situation. I looked at it and noticed that beside it, there was a card with a picture of a book! “What’s that?” I asked. “That’s your book!” He talked more about depression, and that there were some dark days ahead.
During the Spring, I went through my lowest time. My writing took a whole new direction as well. I stopped writing my novel and in stead I wrote a first draft of an absurdity play, somewhat inspired by the works of Samuel Beckett. There was centenary celebration here in Dublin in March, and all the media had Beckett fever. I got my hands on a copy of End Game off the internet, and read it and then recorded it when it was shown on television. I think it is very funny, some might say, dark, brooding, even macabre, but I think it is hilarious. This and other plays of its ilk inspired me to write a play where the characters are waiting on stage for the play to end, because it is so terrible, and nothing is really happening. Nobody knows how long it will last. During the play, they learn that they are not really actors on a stage but different facets of my personality, and that the play will not end until I start writing again. They have to amuse themselves while I months drinking heavily, smoking hash, listening to sad old country song like “If drinking don’t kill me (her memory will)” by George Jones. I bought a guitar and played around with it. All the time, I did no real writing, per se, I just scribble in a journal trying to convince myself I’m writing a play, but nothing comes, so the characters have to make up the dialogue themselves.
I was very bitter and angry about my abusive childhood and growing up in a dysfunctional home during all this time. I continued to see my councilor and went to Mass fairly regularly, but deep inside me there was a seething anger towards my father. I was always a bit skeptical about the Law of Attraction, that we attract into our lives what we think about most, and that our inner world creates our outer reality. I am not nearly as skeptical now, after my appendix turned gangrenous and had to be removed shortly before my 35th birthday. Was it Buddha who said “Anger is it’s own punishment.”?
Will you please get to the point, while we’re still young?
OK, then, since you asked so nicely.
In the ten weeks or so that I have been studying Tarot, I have not come across any deck that has a book on one of its cards. It was a large book, filling most of the card, with a blue cover, and no writing as far as I can remember. The pictures on the deck Bill used were similar to pictures one would find in Nursery Rhyme books from the fifties or sixties. Was this an oracle deck or a tarot deck, does anyone know?
By the way, if anyone is interested, today is a holy day of obligation in the Catholic calendar.
God Bless.
Have you finished your book?