In chapter three of my book, Mirror of the Soul, I provide a psycho/spiritual plot analysis of Mozart’s Die Zauberflöte (The Magic Flute). As a classical flutist, the title appeals to me on many levels. My silver flute has always been pure magic to me – a mystical type of magic. It helps me communicate profoundly without uttering a single word. I can’t make a rabbit disappear, but I can make the world of the mundane completely disappear and transcend the daily worries of the earth plane and touch the light of God for a little while. The Magic Flute is about finding one’s way through the darkness and into the light – a symbolic resurrection. Mozart was a Freemason and his Die Zauberflöte was a masonic work. Freemasons pass through a “temple of trials” to reach the light. Every struggle brings the Freemason closer to the light and represents his symbolic resurrection.

One of the arias from The Magic Flute that I analyze is Ein Mädchen oder Weibchen (‘Tis Love They Say). The aria is sung by Papageno as he states his desire to find a suitable wife. He refers to his perfect wife as a “dove” and declares that finding his “dove” would be absolute “bliss.” It seems fitting that a birdcatcher would compare the perfect partner to a bird, especially a dove – a symbol of peace and purity – qualities he longs for in a relationship and partner respectively. Some New Agers believe the dove symbolizes love, grace, promise, devotion, divinity, holiness, sacrifice and hopefulness. Since the text that I penned serves to unite traditional beliefs with those of the New Thought movement, I tend to agree with the many symbolic meanings of the dove. In my introduction to Mirror of the Soul, I explain my interests and hobbies go way beyond music. Before beginning the writing process, I read books about physics, biology, chemistry, psychology, mathematics, acoustics, fine art, pop culture, energy healing, sound healing and theology. I do not claim to be an authority on any of these disciplines, including music! I do, however, like to analyze and contemplate the greater mysteries of life and have loved doing so for over twenty years. My thinking brain rarely rests, and like a good scientist, I spend a great deal of time observing. I especially enjoy observing the dynamics of human relationships. My father had a forty-year career in mental health and human services, so I believe I picked up some of his psychoanalytical abilities while living in my parents’ home. My dad has also served the Scranton diocese as a Catholic deacon for twenty-two years, so I suppose one could say that he has inspired me to be of humble service in any way I can. With Mirror of the Soul, I am thus attempting to share some of the more interesting information I have discovered and have paired this info with my own observations and insights.

I visited my family in Northeastern Pennsylvania the weekend of 9 October. I hadn’t been to my hometown since July, and it was nice to see the glorious fall foliage as I traveled up the Northeast extension. My parents celebrated their forty-sixth wedding anniversary on 26 July, and it fills me with joy to see the myriad ways in which their relationship has blossomed since I was a child. I have witnessed the love, devotion, holiness, sacrifice and hopefulness as they tended to the needs of their children and served the members of the community-at-large. In an era that focuses so much on the self, it is refreshing to encounter those who put others first. The intensity of my father’s work is overwhelming, but he approaches it with grace and an amazing sense-of-humor. His ministry includes daily visits to patients in the hospitals, nursing homes, hospice facilities, rehabilitation centers as well as the homebound who are all facing insurmountable odds. He offers spiritual and emotional support as well as a good chuckle to the patients as they gaze at his neckties. For years, he has been wearing neckties of good character – Elmo, Snoopy, Mickey Mouse, Sponge Bob, Bugs Bunny, Winnie-the-Pooh and Tigger, too! He is a bright spot in the patient’s day. My mom wholeheartedly supports and assists him in his calling. My parents are embarking on a pilgrimage to Rome, Assisi, Florence and Venice this week and will be staying at the Vatican for the first five days of their visit. Having visited the Eternal City myself in 2003, I know the trip will further solidify their faith and give my dad a renewed sense of purpose for his ministry.

While in Wilkes-Barre last weekend, my father and I visited an elderly man that I had not seen since my high school graduation party in 1988. He and his wife provided my entire family with spiritual and emotional support thirty-five years ago when my baby sister was undergoing chemotherapy. My parents credit their prayers and those of others like them with my sister’s miraculous recovery. This beautiful man recently lost his wife and has been living alone in a large place. He lit up like a Christmas tree when he saw us, and I can honestly say that he had changed little in 35 years. He always had faith that burned like an inferno inside him, and his zest for life bubbled over enthusiastically. Circumstances in his life have worn him down a bit, and his fire is more like a bonfire, but his essence is still the same. In 2009, he was diagnosed with colon cancer and endured chemotherapy, which damaged his liver, heart and rendered him blind in one eye. At one time, his condition had been so dire that his wife feared she would lose him. He surprised everyone when he rallied from his illness, and, as fate would have it, had to face his wife’s cancer diagnosis and watch her succumb to her disease. His wife was a gentle soul who especially supported my mom when Mom lost her father while my sister was fighting for her life. Pictures of their life together adorn the walls of this gentleman’s home. He is in his mid-80’s and said to my dad that he had been speaking with his brother about the perfect age to “meet the Lord.” Both men concurred that that age should be 75. I was slightly taken aback as I heard this because my dad will celebrate his seventy-third birthday in November, and this pronouncement hit a little too close to home. This dear man felt as though he had accomplished his life’s purpose, and his soul was ready to be reunited with his Creator and his wife. He radiated joy as he spoke – the type of joy only someone with deep faith in an afterlife better than the earthly life he has known could render. He is at peace as he waits for his earthly time to come to an end – as long as that end is part of God’s plan for him. Before we left his home, my dad blessed him in much the same way that he had blessed my sister 35 years ago! Love had come full circle!

As we were driving home, I joked to my dad that this man should meet my 99-year- old grandmother, who had just eaten dinner with us earlier in the day. She is looking forward to turning 100 in January! My grandma has been a widow for thirty-six years. Her husband, my Pop-Pop, was diagnosed with lymphoma one month before my sister was diagnosed with leukemia. I share this story in chapter two of Mirror of the Soul. He and my sister endured allopathic care together, but he did not fare so well and died the day after Christmas in 1979. He was as strong as an ox until the cancer weakened his body and spirit. He earned his living as a coal miner and then built a successful business – the North End Tavern – with my grandma. He worked morning, noon and night in order to secure the future of his family. I especially remember his infectious laugh and the way he used to call me “Tania, dolly.” When we visited the bar, he always had popcorn, potato chips or marathon candy bars on hand for us. He would giggle to himself when I asked for a root beer to go along with my snack.

My maternal grandparents are 100% Polish, so although I have the Italian surname, I am more Polish than Italian, since my father is only half Italian. I vividly remember my Pop’s reaction to John Paul, II being elected pope; he was absolutely over the moon. When I was playing a concert in honor of the 25^th anniversary of John Paul, II in Tivoli, Italy in 2003, I couldn’t help but think that Pop was smiling down on me. He might have even had a hand in arranging it! I marvel at the fact that my grandma is still committed to Pop after all the years without him. Shortly after he died, I was sitting in the bar with my grandma when one of the customers asked her if she would ever marry again. She told this customer that her best man was in the ground. Her complete devotion to my grandfather really made an impression on me. She even continued working in the bar until she was almost 90 in order to honor the business they had built together. Her driver’s license was taken away from her when she was 90 as well because her reflexes were not as quick as they needed to be. It was a sad day for her to sell her car and give up her independence to travel. I am grateful she has had the opportunity to read Mirror of the Soul. She inquired as to the reason I had selected a yellow rose for the book cover and wondered if perhaps I had been inspired by the yellow rose bushes she cultivated in her yard. Roses are my favorite flower, and I am drawn to them. When I saw the image paired with a flute and a set of opera glasses, I couldn’t resist using it, especially since I analyzed Mozart’s final opera, The Magic Flute, in chapter three. I suppose I could be drawn to roses because of my grandma’s garden, albeit unconsciously. I own an impressive collection of rose jewelry from Israel as well. The Or paz line, which translates “beautiful light” in Hebrew, crafts exquisite rose jewelry. I love the luster of silver jewelry by these gifted artisans, especially since silver is “mirror of the soul.” This rose jewelry reflects my soul as beautifully as my silver flute!

As I was preparing to leave the “Valley with a Heart,” and return to Philadelphia, my father was on his way to a meeting with a 69-year-old man in the nursing home. My dad has been helping this man fill out papers for an annulment. This bed-ridden man met a bed-ridden woman in the nursing home and fell in love. The couple wants to marry, but he must first acquire an annulment. Neither he nor his fiancé know if each will live long enough to make the union official, but they live with the hope of a blessed union on the earth plane. My dad loves this couple and hopes to officiate at their ceremony. Where there is life, there is hope!

My weekend in Wilkes-Barre was enlightening for me. It warmed my heart to observe unions that have endured the test of time, especially since we live in an era where divorce is celebrated and sensationalized in the media. The love, grace, promise, devotion, divinity, holiness, sacrifice and hopefulness I witnessed was reminiscent of ‘Tis Love They Say from The Magic Flute. Mozart had a remarkable understanding of the human condition. For me, magic is synonymous with miracles, and the greatest miracle is love. May that miracle touch your life!