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old things in new ways - new things in old ways
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I occasionally offer a story on the theme that every spectator has some experience with events that might be considered paranormal and that a Mentalist can build on this "familiarity"

these experiences do not always fall easily into a category of "mind reading" or "telekinesis," etc.

Song of Same

Alicia glanced over her shoulder – hopefully. She knew it was futile but could not resist the possibility that her eyes might reveal what her mind denied. She had sensed a distinct melody struggling against the throbbing sameness of the drumbeat of the crowd. Now gone – walking away – dwindling. She murmured a silent prayer for the thousandth time, “May my gift be strengthened that I might follow or be taken from me completely.” She accepted that she would have another troubled night.

It had not always been the pattern of her life. Decades ago she would spend hours just sitting on a bench to embrace the symphony of passing strangers. Her white cane made her invisible to most folks who also thought her blindness made her deaf too and they would say things aloud where counsel would have been better served. She learned how to match the hidden truths with dream melodies and spoken lies with the base strum of self-delusion. She likened people to a dulcimer. The drone strings were ever presence and a reminder of man’s base nature, while a delightful tune could be played on the more spiritual strings. All that was required was a desire to be different, to be an individual. The combination of rhythm and melody need only be in tune in order to be pleasing to the soul. Which is where she found work to do.

When one’s rhythm and melody are out of sync there is discord and less than beautiful music. It doesn’t matter to her just why this raucous noise was caused, only the wisdom that no solution was possible within the confusion. So, she would reach out and introduce a contra-melody – to “song harmony” shall we say. This was all within the mind, of course, and musical terms only used for illustration. It is enough to know that Alicia could and that she did. Or used to …

It would be easy to blame television or cell-phones or YouTube blather, but they are just instrument on which one can play. What got lost was any faith that trying made any difference or that original thought was better than being average. The strum grew louder and more pervasive as the yearn to be just like everyone else killed the melody. There is not discordance then and folks seem to prefer accepting someone else’s boring base-notes than singing at all. Maybe it’s a step forward in evolution or something. Perhaps being a drone is better than silence or hearing a song that leads to nowhere.

No matter. Alicia knows that some still sing and write pleasing melodies against the din. They may gather in secret coves and shadowed glens – or just sing softly so as not to be discovered. She tries to sing as loudly as possible so that others might find her. But she made a mistake. She asked me to cut her drone strings all together – which is why I know her story. I must live with the choice to grant her wish. A melody without rhythm produces only fear, you see – a cry more than human but less in turn. Most folks find more comfort in believing what aint’ so than knowing what they can never have or be. Alicia’s song kindles primordial memories. Once there was only melody and no strum at all.

I am telling this so that some may realize that the choice of living is not between the singer or the song. It is about being willing to make a choice at all. It certainly is not choosing between poor options offered by a stranger on an electronic device. So, the next time you hear the whisper of a song scarcely remembered know that it might be Alicia calling from lonely. Turn down the oppressing thunder of “everybody does it” and hum along whatever song flitters across your soul.
"the more one pretends at magic, the more awe and wonder will be found in real life." Arnold Furst

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