I’ve seen enough, heard enough and experienced enough that I just don’t think it’s realistic to be skeptical any more.
For those who find all this paranormal, supernatural or metaphysical stuff too out there, and need some kind of concrete proof, I can’t help you. You’ve already made that decision, whether you’re aware of it or not.
I mean, let’s be reasonable. Can you think of even one of your relatives that have passed on, who would go to the trouble to find you, ready to share their love for you and the knowledge that we all go on, and then be ready to take some kind of test? Not likely. My family doesn’t even like to do that when they’re still alive!
Have you ever seen “The Polar Express”? There’s a great scene in that where the boy is on top of the train with the hobo, and the hobo asks him if he’s a believer (in this case, obviously, they’re talking about Santa Claus). The boy says he wants to believe but…
And the hobo says, “You don't want to be bamboozled. You don't want to be led down the primrose path! You don't want to be conned or duped. Have the wool pulled over your eyes. Hoodwinked! You don't want to be taken for a ride. Railroaded!”
I felt like this and I’m sure there are plenty of others who felt the same.
So here’s what I experienced this weekend, and really, it’s a little thing. It may mean nothing to you. It may not be any kind of sign. It may just be a coincidence.
But it is, at the very least, a little odd.
I get songs in my head. Not unusual. We all do, right?
The difference, and we can argue later if there is one, is that most of the time, the songs I get are some kind of message. Music has always been important to me, and if I do have a gift, this is it. I get songs.
I’ve dabbled at Tarot, but never found a deck I was comfortable with, felt a connection with, that kind of thing. So I decided to make my own, using songs I felt were appropriate for each of the cards you’d find in a regular, 78-card deck.
For those few that have had the misfortune of hearing me sing, you know this is a good idea.
When you buy a song from Amazon or iTunes or wherever, and you play it back, you usually get a little picture of the album cover. Since I edited these songs to the part that really tied in with the particular card, there’s no data for artwork. So they should all be blank.
Not a big deal. Amazon is probably just using something I played or uploaded recently as kind of a go-to cover since mine were blank.
The album in question is by a group called the Replacements. If you don’t know them, or don’t think you know them, you are probably familiar with the song “I’ll Be You”, a big 80’s hit and the subject of this blog.
Neither the Replacements or the song “I’ll Be You”, or anything similar, are in any of my playlists on Amazon. The closest I can get to this is that I steamed their comeback EP, “Songs For Slim”, about a year ago. On Rhapsody, not Amazon.
The significant thing for me is the album artwork. You probably can’t see it very well in that lousy smartphone picture I took, so here’s what that album cover looks like.
Teresa and I are taking Psychic Tapestry on the road next weekend. We’re going to be hosting a Past Lives even in Las Vegas (and you can click on VEGAS above for all the details).
Without revealing too much too far ahead, a large part of what we’ll be doing centers around Titanic. This weekend is the anniversary of the sinking (well, actually Monday is), and we’ll be attending the Titanic Exhibit at the Luxor, among other things.
So the first time I will be using my deck and this playlist will be at an event largely connected to Titanic. And Amazon puts an album I’m not familiar with as the artwork for each and every song on that playlist.
I have no idea what kind of algorithm Amazon uses to come up with filler artwork for songs that have no data. Seems a little odd to me that they would use something I’ve never played. And if they were going to do that, it would seem more likely they would use something they were trying to push, rather than a compilation album that came out in 1997.
Still, I can’t prove that it’s any kind of sign.
I can’t even prove that I didn’t rig this myself, figured out a way to manipulate the data and attach that artwork to every song in advance.
Not sure what I’d have to gain by doing that. It’s not earth-shaking enough to convince anyone to meet us in Las Vegas this weekend. It’s hardly the second coming of Elvis.
When you think about it, the arguments against believing in any of this stuff have about the same merit as those that are for it. You can’t prove that this is it. You can’t prove that there aren’t signs. You can’t prove that what happened to my playlist doesn’t mean anything.
My takeaway from this is pretty simple.
We aren’t alone. And we can know that by little things like this. Not some grand gesture that will alter our faith, our direction and our life’s purpose. But maybe just a little something to let you know that, even if you’re getting ready to try something you haven’t ever done before, you can do it.
Just allow yourself to consider it. Have an open mind. Look at it from my point-of-view. Listen to this song form the Replacements, and just for a few minutes, and be me. And I’ll be you.