Chronology of an epic downfall
You might have perceived the intro to this series as arrogant or bragging, but that article was needed to show you the rise before my fall.
Whilst the details of my story are too personal to be relevant for others, they can serve as an example of how slow or painful it can be until karmic experiences grind down one’s ego,
and how a much faster it can be, if one (voluntarily and preemptively) does personality work, such as meditation, yoga, and other spiritual methods.
Even though, I did dread for two and a half decade to bare my soul publicly (and only can do it now, because it is the earliest point I am stepping out of this trauma),
I think that this reconstruction of my deconstruction could increase compassion by understanding in people who mostly did live on the bright side of life,
and comforter to to sufferers, who still might be much to entangled in their own pain in order to be able to reflect upon it.
In order not to turn it into an endless moaning, I will alternate it with posts about spiritual insights.
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Germany in the 60s:
After WW2, the destructed Germany was for decades busy building itself up again whilst dissolving the traumata or the war, so that meanwhile the main sources for TV-shows and movies were imported by the master of the movie industry: the USA.
Movies are probably the most impressionable ways of influencing people, especially children, and so it was for me:
The first TV my parents bought (from a salary my father did for working on a TV-play) was for the moon-landing, when I was 3 years old, and to watch it with their friends was memorable for all of us, not only because of the event, but not many Germans possessed a TVs at that time.
Most TVs at that time were still black and white, and even ours had a button to toggle the colours, which we often left of, because it looked so artificial and aggressive. Hence we watched a lot of old black and white movies and slowly grew into newer ones, probably also because old TV-series were cheaper to buy for German TV stations than new ones.
So I developed a nostalgic and quaint view of the USA of old Jazz-bars and Western saloons.
As a child I did paint a large picture with an American flag and did stick many American photos from magazines on it, and listened to my Grandfather telling me the story how, when he as an 80 years old, did travel from East- to West-coast and back – all on his own without being able to speak one word of English, except for “Hi!“.
In school I did proudly wear a sheep-leather bomber jacket (which I assume was a relic from an US-care-parcel), and as I grew into a restless puberty, Europe seemed sluggishly antiquated and inflexible, and I started to fall in love with the notion of thinking big, and that everything was possible when following ones’ dreams.
Even as a child I often sat looking into the blue sky and felt the freedom of being connected to the skyscrapers of America I had seen in some 70s movies.
I fell in love with American music, played in a big band and loved the Blues which did reflect my own blues with Germany’s rigid society.
I got much classical education, from piano to church organ, but since I wanted to play Saxophone, I first had to learn the Clarinet, which my parents deemed essential in the European classical culture;
so after I left school I moved to Berlin to become a musician.
Since the restrictions of the East-German Berlin-Wall did create an aggressive Atmosphere there, I moved to London shortly after the Wall fell.
There I was really happy to encounter the multiculturalism and differences of lifestyles I found so inspiring, and copied the dream of evolving from dishwasher to millionaire by washing dishes in a Jamaican restaurant whilst my music teacher performed in the dining-area.
But instead of studying music in the Guildhall School of music and drama, which I prepared for a year,
I spontaneously switched to Traditional Chinese Medicine, because my parents always wanted me to have “a proper job” and I thought that this would be an ideal compromise between helping people, whilst gaining emotional inspirations for artistic work.
I never forgot the dream of wanting to move on to NYC, so as soon as I finished my studies of TCM there, I flew straight to Manhattan without having had a Green Card, because I was following, what seemed to have worked for Arnold Schwarzenegger, who also did come to the US, even without a tourist visa (but therefore he had connections in high places).
So I did literally carry 100kg (over 200 pounds) of stuff (including my 3 saxophones) in my first flight, and after living in the cheapest place in town (a small hotel for transvestites mostly), I found a small place to live in.
There started treating a poor artist for $5 in my apartment, then an owner of a fashion shop for $30, and thereafter never had to increase the price again.
The show room whom of my patient did attract makeup-artists who talked to the models they were working on,
so I got an alternate mix of models and makeup-artists who did recommend me to each other – each time for a higher price, so that my price rose automatically to $150 within 6 months and likely would have risen more.
To the models, who had money, it was not much, plus the USA had (and still has) not such a good healthcare system, as Europe has, so any health-issue was really expensive for Americans and I was cheap in comparison.
I did attract a lot of extroverts who felt comfortable with me for not condemning them for their avantgardism – one example being a model who despite it being cold outside had to dance in several bars on Halloween showing of her blue painted body in a bikini, and instead of telling her off about running around in the cold, I did work around her needs to further her success – an attitude which is much more common in America than Europe – one reason why I loved it in Manhattan – things just could grow fast and big there.
Whilst going to the party, she did invite me to, I realised that I was not dressed up for Halloween at all, and because it was too late to buy anything, and I had nothing original at home, I came up with the idea to put on my black leather coat and stick a dozen really long acupuncture needles in places in my face, which were no acupuncture points, in order to look like Hellrazor.
This really demonstrated to me the difference between a village in Europe and a cosmopolitan large city in the USA: In my hometown I would have been denounced for such a madness, but in NYC people found it funny and when I told them that I was an acupuncturist, they even wanted my card to get treatments.
Funny enough, when I already had forgoten all about the needles afterwards on my way home, I run into a neighbour for the first time, and chatted with her casually, as if it was the most normal thing to do, running around with needles in the face.
Such and many more crazy stories did happen every day and night, and I met the most fascinating mix of famous or extravagant people, like Hollywood directors, actors, musicians, and many unknown, but very unusual and open-minded people.
But on a serious note: Everything seemed to work: I had at times nearly miraculous success with treating people, and felt really appreciated for my compassionate care around the clock.
Many were interested in the ancient Chinese, and Indian spiritual wisdoms I had to share.
So I was invited to many really interesting parties (from dinner-size to many meters of oysters on one table), and could tell you a story about those events which happened nearly each day or night, as intense and interesting, as highlights in a normal life, which would only happen about once a year.
This is what I liked most in the USA: People are really open to new ways and there is a child-like state of awe for new things,
whilst in the more critical dinosaur Europe I often felt blocked and suppressed, when trying to inspire others open-heartedly for a positive change.
But before being able to move in there, I had to travel for the third time to London, because my Tourist Visa did run out, and I did not have the audacity, to just stay in the USA illegally as some others did whom I met.
So I did return for a third time, and within the 9 months I had been in Manhattan,
I already underwent most of the exams to be able to work there as an accredited practitioner of TCM,
got myself an non-drivers-ID, and first accreditations to be able TCM in the USA,
and did spend a lots of money there in order to make it all legal.
When I did travel back, my flight was delayed for half a day, which made me arrive at 1am in the morning in John Kennedy airport, and when I stood in line I suddenly could sense that this was going really wrong but there was nothing I could do about it anymore.
The officer did send me to a room and two very officers – one male, and one very harsh tiny stocky woman with pebble glasses – did question and threaten me for 2 hours in the ‘good-cop-bad-cop’ fashion, whilst cheating me of my Miranda rights for a lawyer, by threatening me that asking for one would only make things worse.
When they finally did get my luggage and saw many used CDs in there, it was clear that I had to come clean to tell them that I had transported my belongings in steps to the US and was on the way of working hard to become a legal citizen with a Green-card.
They instantly handcuffed me to a bench, right in front of a window and next to 3 Afghan children of the age around from 3 to 11, and told racist remarks about non-caucasians. It was heart-breaking to see all three of those cute kids cry their eyes out, knowing that their life was literally over, and the oldest girl having had to comfort the others, despite her having been in a very bad shape herself.
(I don’t want to know to which terrible circumstances they may have had to return to and how their family had probably put together their entire savings to give at least their kids a better future.)
The room had a large ‘shopping window’ for all travellers to see what happens to illegals, and I was forced to sleep on the floor, because I was handcuffed on my ankle to the bench and as a meal they gave me one heartless buttered bread, until the next flight to London arrived on which they did put me handcuffed.
If I had a lawyer it probably would have been clear that I did not even do anything legally wrong, because the entire time I stood there legally – only my intentions were to make it permanent.
This is how one’s life can be destroyed by two officers just being in a bad mood and by lacking informations.
I won’t ever forget the officer’s bitter faces, which were signed by the aggressive dismissal of any empathy for the daily flood of lives they saw being destroyed by their actions, and got some sense for how harsh people must be treated in Guantanamo, even if they just are suspected terrorists.
(We are so mate-mongered by the media that I wouldn’t be surprised, if the word ‘suspected‘ falls right through the raster of many readers when reading the word ‘terrorist‘.)
This then did shape my opinion of refugees in a total different way most legal first-worlders who never left their country for longer than a safe holiday see it:
Many only see the threat to their own country, and fear that jobs or benefits are taken from them, but I now see behind most refugees a huge story of either tremendous despair and a great hope for a new start – something it takes, to make one abandon all own roots.
The irony of it is that often immigrants are the ones who really put a lot of effort into succeeding; and develop a greater appreciation for the country they immigrated into, than the majority of people who were granted their citizenship from birth without any efforts.
The refugee situation seems to a large extend to be created by the first-world, due to exploitation of the third world for centuries,
and wars, which to a large extend are designed to destabilise regions in order to control them later.
So in a way the refugee-issue is not only the Karma of the third, but also the first world.
Unfortunately most of the time it does not hit the countries which caused the issue, but the ones closer to the crisis centres.
Finally: this experience also had another effect on me:
It turned me into a passionate enemy of neoliberalism and also nationalism,
because I experienced first hand that firms are allowed to go without any loyalty to humans, wherever they can save most taxes or work-labour-costs,
whilst humans are imprisoned by nonsensical (because arbitrary) national boundaries for the rest of their lifes.
This was the end of my life-long ‘American dream‘, which then did cause an avalanche of misfortunes and an epic social downfalls I will continue to tell you later.
Edit end of 2020: After having seen Bush leading an illegal war against Iran based on the lie of weapons of mass-destruction, him still being re-elected, and the rise of aggressive xenophobia, racism and sexism in the population under trump Trump, my vision of the USA as a loving cosmopolitan melting pot was shattered.
3 Replies to “The destruction of my American dream”
Oh, no. So unfortuante.
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The sad joke is that I probably did have the right to stay but didn’t get it because they scared me.
Amazing how ignorance can cause suffering for decades.