1 BOOK I - Syncronicity

This is the letter I wrote to A. after the ten days we spent together in August 2019.

Preamble

We found each other.

We said goodbye.

I thank the universe for all that happened in between.

Hello A.

2019-08-06 - 04.15

Hello A.,

Don’t expect the best letter. It is 4 am. I went to sleep early, woke up a couple of hours ago and spend all this time ordering papers and stuff from the exchange.

Some of the things I will write here probably will sound repetitive for both of us, you and me, because we separated last night. However, for our future selves can be a great memory trigger. I probably switch to cheesiness from time to time and tell you the wonderful human being that you are. Lucky me that I won’t see your rolling eyes, facial expressions, harsh comments, and your favorite word for the Carlos you met in the project: “Distance”. I am also procrastinating. I am not sure which of the hundreds of things I have to do should be first. Since I want to start doing something productive, I think it is a good moment for your letter.

09.12

Eventually, I meditated and then fall asleep. Now, I am in the train, going to the office to work as much as possible before Friday, when I have a meeting with my advisor. The procrastination of your letter is, as so many negative things, rooted on fear. The fear of leaving out things that I would like to remember, that I would like to immortalize. But in case of not writing anything, none of them will be saved, so, let’s try. I don’t know where to start. Maybe some of the most important words for me of this exchange are transformation, silence, compassion, surrender, secure attachment, relationship, trust… Many possibilities. Since this is a letter, I will write mostly about me, how I felt, thought and believed at different points, in a subjective way, and as much as I feel comfortable with. So, expect those parts that you don’t like from me: the “talking too much”, and the “selfishness” focus on my current and previous selves.

1.1 Promising beginnings (DAY 1 – 2019-07-26)

I was in the toilet of the fast-food restaurant cleaning my nose. I had just met E., Ab., Cs., and L.. They were fine, they were okay. The type of participants I may expect in an Erasmus exchange: not super extrovert, and more on the passive side of the spectrum. Quite normal people. Actually, it is me the weird one that is super energetic (hyper-active), that comes up with socializing games and conversation topics from the first moment. However, when I went out of the restaurant and I saw you, obviously, the first thing the horny asshole thought about was: “Wow, some cute blondies.” My joy was increased a bit more by the fact that one of them seemed as crazy, spontaneous, and funny as me. We said “hi”, and to have an excuse for showing off my body skills and help my unfocused memory to remember your names, I proposed playing “reaction time” using your names. Ma. wasn’t much in the mood of playing, K. was adjusting to the situation, but you were already full mode. I liked you. We could talk and understand each other, at least at this playful level. M. and I. arrived, but didn’t play. Few minutes later, we realized that everyone was on the door of the association. We joined them.

We went for a sandwich and I almost influence you enough to go vegetarian the rest of the week. You chose chicken. I didn’t blame you. Now, I am thinking about how I tried to save all those sandwiches that for sure they are moldy and decomposing right now somewhere in France. I didn’t want to blame you for your choices. The same with the cigarettes. I didn’t want to be annoying from the very beginning. Even less with the person that seemed I was matching the most. I did a couple of jokes here and there with the other participants. But I still had you on my mind. I was lucky enough to find you seated alone on the bus, smiling, almost like waiting for me. It was an easy decision to sit next to you. We talked about basics and not so basics. Well, it was me the one that talked the most. I told you some of my anecdotes, some of the official and unofficial things that I was doing with my life. I told you that my social energy could switch easily from praised to unacceptable. I became vulnerable to you, showing who I was. But it felt really good, really nice. I had been working on my fear of rejection during the previous months, and by then was already neutralized. Also, I had been working on my honesty and genuineness. I had been learning that truth beats lies. I had experienced that playing was a short-term strategy with ambiguous results. However, years of meeting people and observing the results of the interactions had told me what to say and what not to say. So, I avoided certain topics, and facilitate others. You also talked about yourself, you told me about your artistic interest and success. You told me about your emotions and goals. I was a bit surprised everything was going so smooth, so easy, so spontaneous and genuine. At some point, Sonia mentioned the possibility of me moving to the other house which would have changed my whole experience. I changed my future, and later on because of the guilt of my selfish choice, I changed the future of many others. We continued talking. You just liked to listen to me, I just liked to talk. We were the perfect couple. For some moment, I even thought about coming up with a excuse for kissing you in the bus, but I preferred to be patient. “We may see tonight, or tomorrow, I don’t know, but it has been a pleasure to meet you”.

I entered the hostel for the first time. Check the basics: the floor, where to stretch, where to train… Finding the room took me a while, and it served as an excuse to explore the venue. I was already thinking about where’s and when’s. I asked around like a stupid whether I could wash my clothes in a washing machine. People took me as a weird disorganized guy, which I partly was. I fooled around for a bit and then, the universe, life, destiny, (maybe you?) gave me the perfect opportunity. You were alone, under a tree, in the darkness. You were probably not waiting for me, but I have learnt that opportunities must be taken. I came to you, feeling a bit nervous, excited because of the fantastic chance that I had been given. Parts of my mind were telling me those “what if’s” that often mess up my behavior, thoughts and emotions. “What if I fucked up now”. But you asked me about hugging trees, I asked you about massage, then I asked you about kissing you, and you turned your face around, said “Oohh!” with that cute intonation, and offered me your lips. I took them. “Nice way of starting a project”, you said I felt much more secure. I didn’t have the boastfulness and macho attitude that I could have had on the past by kissing a girl the first night, the first hours of a project. I was feeling more peaceful, more natural. More like if it was the appropriate and normal things to do in a relationship that was evolving faster than normal, but with a sound and solid tempo. We had meet each other, talked to each other, showed that we liked each other, and a manifestation of affection and sexual attraction was the following step. I just did it. The day before leaving, you told me that it was too fast to kiss on the first night. I answered you that if I wouldn’t have done it, you may have changed your mind about me, you may have discovered that my intensity was too big, or that you liked more someone else. Those were my fears, and those have been the lessons of years, that have told me that kissing early is better than not kissing at all. I felt much more secure after our mouths encountered each other, still with the realization on mind that a kiss was just a kiss and that you might found whoever else at any other moment of the project. As in life, nothing is safe, nothing is sure, and nothing is for granted. But I felt good, I feel safe, I felt secure.

I washed my clothes while you were drinking and then we spend the night talking and laughing with T., H., O., E., and maybe a few others. I saw you talking with Hum. for a couple of times, thinking that he might match physically more with you more than me. But I left those thoughts aside. I listened for the first time one of your weirdness that might spark rejection on normal people: your affinity to cockroaches. On my head, I had some surprised thoughts about your strange uniqueness, that made me undersatnd a bit more the marks that your “cat” had left on your forearms. But who was I to consider weird another person, when we are all weird, and I was probably one of the weirdest there? I loved myself. You looked like you loved yourself. I thought that it didn’t matter much whether you liked cockroaches, or moutons if we were going to be together only for ten days.

During the night, I took a couple of tiny opportunities to kiss you before separating and going to sleep. I was happy, I was excited. I had had an incredibly funny night listening to T.’s and H.’s jokes. Avoiding a direct confrontation with the negative attitude of H. and having kissed the girl that I liked the most, the one I had connected so genuinely with.

I took my duvet, spread it on the floor, lied down, put my meditation on my earbuds, send some love to the planet and fall sleep.

1.2 Changing lives (DAY 2 – 2019-07-27)

I woke up excited, ready to kick that project out. Perfect timing for fasting, doing some exercise, stretching a little bit and start the day with positive energy. I am not sure if you were also there, in the middle of everything, stretching and enjoying your body in front of everyone. We played that endless names’ game, and the dynamics of the group started to transform. I was already training myself, not letting my life be wasted by bad organization. People asked me why I was barefoot, and I answered why not. I walked over the stones to make the soles of my feet harder, but it was nothing considering what was going to come. We played to meet each other, but you and I had already some advantage on each other. Seeing your tie was too easy for me, and still, we were in front of each other. We looked into each other eyes, and I thought about remaining there the rest of the time, getting to know each other to a new deeper level, a level without words, a world of gazes and souls. Your eyes were beautiful, and I was hoping you were thinking my eyes were too. I was smiling, because feeling happy needs to be shared. I felt uplifted by your beauty, and the idea that we have already connect and kissed the previous night.

The activities about fake news started. Too much talking, too much theory, too many concepts. A lot of blah, blah. Fears, expectations and contributions. I tried not to put almost any fear and expectation. I knew what these projects are usually about, and it is always on me the responsibility of growth and learning. Whatever the situation, whatever the people, whatever the content, I am the one that has to growth, and I am the one that must do whatever he can to get the best from the situation. I couldn’t let the outcome of my life to be dependent on external circumstances. I didn’t know anything about surrender, and surrender was the lesson that saved me the most.

The day went by, I saw the annoyance of some, the confusion of many, the interest of a few, and the boredom of the rest. I was especially curious about H., who seemed to be suffering the most with the whole thing. I have to admit that I raised my hand to participate in the social committee because you had raised it before. My first impulse was not to overload my time in these projects with extra tasks, but I liked you, and I thought that spending time together would benefit me and make me learn and enjoy more the experience. Also, the other people that had raised their hand, Ir. and M., seemed like intelligent people to work with. Food, more activities and our first social committee meeting where we clearly showed that we were better at organizing ourselves than the facilitators. With just a meeting, we were already making the exchange ours: veneration envelopes, ideas for rules, organization for the shopping, boxes for public communication. We were doing what the organizers hadn’t thought about.

On the evening, we had our first reflection group, when H. left pretty offended and angered. A. B. mentioned her highly sensitive reactions to those types of situation, and then played some Pollyanna optimism by saying that we had to focus on the good things. I didn’t see the situation as “us against them”, but it was clear that things could be done way better. The meeting finished and I went out looking for H.. I found her on the car, and I suggested getting a ride together. H.’s car was a reflection of her life: messy, disorganized, careless, dirty. It was my first lesson about compassion. Previous night, I had been really close to openly confront her, but I had preferred to remain smiley observing her inner suffering and pain. However, when I entered the car and started cleaning and collecting dirt and bottles, I couldn’t feel other than pity for her. She was a lost soul with tons of pain and suffering inside. All her anger and annoyance were just a reflection of the huge turmoil that she carried everywhere she was. I remain silent until she started to open up, applying the second lesson of the exchange: silence. We were singing on the road, looking for an open store that we couldn’t find in a Saturday evening. She told me about her feelings, thoughts, and sensations. I advised her to be patient and compassionate. All of us were just trying to do our best. That is all.

We came back. I felt uplifted for having helped the person that seemed to be suffering the most. I walked around the venue and you were there. We found each other. We went out to the grass, and we talked. I mentioned later how one of those courses that I had mentioned so many times (Mindvalley) was taught by a couple, (she into yoga, he into self-development) that had the routine/ritual of having a walk and speaking about their respective days, their inner worlds and their relationship every evening. We sort of did it.

I cannot remember what exactly we talked that day. We probably shared our views about the project, some of our life experiences, my spiritual experiences, the direction that our relationship was taking, and how I had spent the day trying to find a place for G. in our room. After the dinner, while people were preparing the intercultural night, I got surprised at knowing that the two Romanian guys, An. and Io., and E. and O., had accepted to move. T. was also okay with the change. I would sleep on the floor as I wanted, and everybody would be happy. That was my second booster of the day. I had written on so many notebooks that the key of my happiness was making other people happy, that improving so many lives at once was like getting instantly high. I shared all that positivity with you, and you were there to received it with your silent attention, your lovely smile. I was so lucky to have met you, to had you as support for my craziness and spontaneity, to count with your acceptance. I was feeling so good, so secure, so at peace, thanks to your presence.

The intercultural night started. I fooled around, eat some sugar, drink some wine. I danced and played for a bit, just to keep my body functional. Then, I went to the shower, letting people get drunk while I clarified my brain, body and soul. When I came back, I discover that H. was drunker than I expected. I avoided us getting alone and avoided her trying to kiss me. I had discovered that evening that she and T. were engaged, and I was, by no means, someone to meddle in their relationship. I already had you, and you were enough. I had observed other girls during the day, and yes, K., Mar., Cs., or even Ir. looked nice, but I was sure none of them were as interesting, intelligent and captivating as you. At some point, we had a walk around the park when you mentioned that you liked the way I was aware of your needs. I couldn’t realize at that moment how important was what you had said.

H. continued her performance, getting drunk and disappearing. On the entrance, we had the idea of preparing the “Truth News, True Now”, which you help me to edit and correct. If I would have been high, I would have thought that it was just another genius idea sparked by the weed. But I wasn’t, and I got serious and conscientious about it.

M., K., you and I end up talking on the gym about the system and the functioning of human beings and the planet. I wanted to spend the night with you, but I was feeling secure, and I didn’t want to make pressure. We had kissed a few times during the day, and each times our eyes met each other manifested desire and complicity.

The talk was over. We kiss once more, said goodnight. I went to my floor with my new roommates. I fell asleep feeling fulfilled for an excellent day.

1.3 Feelings of accomplishment (DAY 3 – 2019-07-28)

“Woman!” was the first thing I told you that morning. I woke up sleep deprived. Stressing out about the “Truth News”. Excited for having the possibility of sharing a message that I wanted to share and placating my blaming my tendencies of overworking and taking too much responsibility. In less than 40 minutes we were able to finish the script, communicating what we wanted to do to the social committee, soothing down M. T.’s stress, and convincing Mir. to give us the floor. We even envision a small performance where you were the assistant giving me water while I spoke. So meaningful, symbolic, and archetypical already. The man changing the world, and the woman behind supporting him and keeping him alive. I would have liked it to be more equal, to share the speech with you, but the rush and your agreement made us choose the most efficient outcome. People in general liked the performance, Mir. told us to repeat it every morning, which was the idea I had on mind. Unlucky me, I couldn’t predict that people would feel offended and attacked by me talking about fruits. Another lesson, Carlos, another lesson.

The day went on. The facilitators mentioned that the journalist they had arranged to come wasn’t coming. A big fucked up for an organization, but I never liked to catch a big fish in a small bucket. Too easy for me. Participants had complained the day before. Facilitators had muted us. Then, they had revealed themselves. We argued a bit about terms like scoops, information and news. I didn’t want to become too quarrelsome, I wanted to keep it cool and control myself. There was no point on discussing about words. But few unfortunate comments and the huge misinterpretation that a video in French with automatic subtitles generated by YouTube set me a bit on fire. I managed to speak my voice a couple of times, making clear that different languages, cultures and backgrounds were the origin of many potential confusions. I also protected Google and the Internet, because, you know, planet Earth in 2019. (You had also mentioned the day before that the two things you felt most grateful in your life were the Internet and the European Union because, you know, human nature during your childhood).

At some point along the morning, I discovered that H. was being expelled. I tried to wake her up a couple of times, to make her participate, to save her. She had mentioned the previous night that she believed on me, that she has seen authenticity on me, that I wasn’t a fake “happy type”, that I was something more real. I had found a believer, and believers are to be protected. But talking with So. and some other facilitators looked like the ultimate decision had been already taken. H. was leaving, and T. was leaving with her. It hurt. It hurt the fact that I couldn’t do anything to avoid it. It hurt the fact that our voice wasn’t listened. It hurt the unfairness of the situation. It hurt that they weren’t going to have an opportunity of saying goodbye to us. So. told me that they would say goodbye to those that they wanted. It hurt to let go two of the people I have realized I could connect most with. And still, they went. They left during an activity to avoid disturbing the group and creative bad vibes according to the organizers. That was extremely badly done, that was extremely unprofessional, of an extreme low quality. Organizers kept on reveling themselves. That was the way they were solving problems: kicking people out in second day. My lesson again was to surrender, to accept the situation, to stop fighting. I had fought so much the previous day arranging the rooms, confronting the disbelief and discouragement of many, that I felt that I shouldn’t keep on going with the strategy further. I felt that pressing too much wasn’t the best, at least that earlier. The situation was already tense, and So. had mentioned that the decision came from above. Et. and his old-school teaching attitude seemed inflexible to me as well. It was a lost battle. A battle that had been fought without me. A battle that I had missed. A battle where I hadn’t had the opportunity of intervening.

H. left. T. left. I kept on learning my lessons: acceptance, compassion, surrender. I thought that H. would learn her lesson and that the next time she would be more loving, and less alcoholic. I learned my lesson, and I decided that my voice had to be listened more often. I wrote about patience; I shared it with you. Somehow you were there all the time, supporting me, listening to me, giving me feedback, improving myself and helping me grow. In the coffee break I had looked for you exclusively to apologize for having told you “Woman!” the first thing in the morning. You didn’t care for it, but for me it felt right to do it, since you were the human being, the person, the woman that was actually supporting and caring the most for what I was trying to do. Your presence, your water.

The day continued. Same tempo, and same rushing attitude all the time. No time for eating, no time for meetings, no time for getting to know each other, no time for creating, no time for mating, no time for life. Just things, and things, and outcomes and outcomes. Coffee breaks of sugar and carbohydrates, breakfast of sugar and carbohydrates, lack of fruit and vegetables on the meals. It didn’t matter our comments, it seemed that nothing was going to change. Again, I was always taking the experience as a perfect opportunity of consolidating my fasting habits, of learning and growing. They can take my food away, but they cannot steal my learning.

We were lucky enough to work together in the creation of the first page of the newspaper. Again, I saw on you a creative wonderful soul. Someone that enjoyed herself doing what she wanted. I was a bit distant, focused on my text about patience, already taking the role of the lone individual that believes he is working for the community. And I was. For me it felt that it was way more important to mention the importance of patience and temperance rather than doing a collage of the first page of a newspaper, activity that I had already done in the school when I was 10, a product that was glued to the door of my wardrobe for at least one year.

I finished the text, felt satisfied about it, and got the group to do a brief standing meditation and share it with them. I was nervous. I. interrupted the activity. I saw confused people, and loving ones. I focused on the enjoyment, and I couldn’t see the suffering. Once I finished, I received the hugs and loves of those that had enjoyed it, and I couldn’t realize those that had hate it. I was already envisioning me giving a speech every evening, creating material for the blog, while spreading a word of tolerance, well-being, and thrive around the participants of the project. We had the second reflection group where El. opened herself a bit more, talking about the infinite amount of tension that she held inside and how she wouldn’t attempt to fight a decaying system. Her strategy would be to silently suffer whatever she had to suffer and then at the end give the due feedback. Coping mechanisms. It was the third day; the second meeting and people were already giving up. I was a fighter. I wasn’t willing to let anyone destroy my future, no matter how long or short it was. It didn’t matter that it was seven days, or seven hours. Giving up without fighting was not in my range of options. A. B. kept on justifying our feedbacks, on distancing herself from the decisions that the facilitators had taken, on suggesting us to have a good atmosphere, and applying her blind “let’s all be friends” attitude. I couldn’t stand it, I asked her to write and she argued that she didn’t want to alter our words, to modify our request, willings and desires. She was using writing as a counter argument for the biggest benefit of writing, which is the objectivity of the written words. I couldn’t believe it and I was freaking out. “Write your notes and give them to me” she kept on saying. “I want that A. B. takes notes in our meetings.” Here you have. System hacked. I remember you offered yourself as a secretary. It didn’t feel right to me, it wasn’t your job, but still it spoke wonders about your pacifying kindness. The next day they took action.

During the dinner, I had the opportunity to listen a potential far-right nationalistic voter expressing his fears and his extremely dangerous argumentations. And. had collaborated after a lot of effort to change the rooms and I felt a bit indebted to him. But, he had also that defeated attitude about the project and probably his own life. No matter the fight, no matter the struggle. Take things as they are and do your own. Post-communist syndrome, my colleague F. had named it few months ago. I had jot down “Healthy level of disengagement” during the previous sessions, and I was starting to believe it. And. expressed his uncomforting feelings at noticing that he was alive in his own body, something completely alien to me, but that remind me of a university classmate’s comments during one of our first meditation sessions of the master: “I feel trapped inside my body.” I tried to force compassion, but it wasn’t coming. The conversation with A. B. and the passivity and vengeful attitude of El. had left me in a quite quarrelsome state. I mentioned my views about how all human beings shared a common space for living called Planet Earth, and how if in a shared flat one of the tenants destroys the kitchen and kills the cat, the others consider taking measures. And. mentioned his inferiority feelings by recalling cases of moralizing vegans. “You feel superior, you believe that you do everything right. Let me do what I want. I am not forcing you to do what I want.” I have heard so many times that cheap and empty argument that I am seriously committed to write a proper text about how to argue with non-conscious selfish behavior. And. kept on saying that the Planet wasn’t a shared resource, that each of us would come back to our countries and that the best we could do was having a peaceful time there until the project finished. He mentioned that he would only fight if someone was attacking his personal resources, his territory, his nation. I saw his hand trembling while he bit the apple. I saw his eyes fixed on me, filled with terror, filled with tension and anger. He confessed that all that mediation and yoga wasn’t for him, that for him was a torture to be there standing up, breathing, and that he would rather be outside smoking another cigarette, thinking about football. I couldn’t believe it. Our worlds and mind were so distant from each other that it was going to require all my ingenuity to come up with a common point. I end up asking whether he believed that breathing for few minutes in a room while listening to someone speaking was reducing his well-being more than smoking a cigarette. He agreed. We shook hands and I left.

I found you outside and you saved me. I keep on thinking that you were in the right places at the right moments. I keep on thinking that this whole thing of the project was just a life lesson that was perfectly orchestrated for me to grow. I keep on having this Truman’s Show feelings that you were all actors saying what you had to say at the right moment. I keep on going nuts.

We talked and I could share with you the huge burden that the conversation with And. had left on me. I could share with you my surprise and realization at the fact that there were people that considered that talking about fruits was a personal attack, that inhabiting their body was uncomfortable, I shared with you what I have seen on El., all that tension and suffering that started to somatize on her skin. You listened to me, you reinforced me, you gave me feedback about the text, you made me talk softer, you shared your views that were so similar to mines, you supported me, you improved me, you loved me. Maybe, I was getting so familiar to your love that I was starting to take it for granted. I also told you that if in the following year you thought about finishing your life, you could always contacted me.

Another cultural night on the evening. I didn’t care, because I was there as “another talking ape on Planet Earth”, not as a nationalistic citizen. We had some laughs, we ate, we chilled, we drunk. The party developed and I thought about working for the news of the next day. I asked you while you were writing, and you accepted to help me. We worked together for a bit, but then decided to dance and enjoy. That evening had been the one you had gone dancing naked on the flowers. People was already applying their coping mechanisms and I kept on fighting. We danced, we kissed, and then you asked me to sleep together. Of course, I wanted to sleep with you. Of course, I wanted to share my bed and my intimacy with you. You had mentioned already about your period, and I wasn’t going to force you to have sex. But the idea of sleeping together sounded wonderful for me. You seemed like the best relationship I could have had: intellectually interesting, emotionally supportive, funny, spontaneous and crazy, physically beautiful, and with a healthy sexual libido.

We asked for permission to my roommates, but none of them could complain since it was my room. They all loved me for my intervention, they all liked me for the effort I was putting in the project and for how I was trying to make everything work and everyone happy. They valued me. I felt I was a good caring leader. A leader that had had the luck of finding a wonderful person to lead with, you. We slept for a while until you wake me up with your desires. I satisfied some of them and discover that you were also atypical on the bed. You scratched my back, I entered you body with my fingers and tongue, you welcomed my masculinity with your throat. We listened to the disturbed sleep of my roommates. You bit me, I bit you. I should have come at some point, but I didn’t want to. About an hour of intense shared passion gone by and we fell asleep together again. I loved you. You loved me. We love each other. I was yours; you were mine. We were together on that.

1.4 Censored for democracy (DAY 4 – 2019-07-29)

Obviously, there is no good tale without a change of direction in about the middle of it. Here is where we are.

It all started in the morning, I woke up, you woke up. You left, and I went down, getting ready to spread the “Truth News” of the day. But it was already too late. The fear was winning. Mir. found me and told me that the activity that she has praised the previous day was better not to be repeated again because some people have complained to her and disagreed with what I was saying. I couldn’t believe it. I soon realized that talk about fruits and drinking water was making some participants more uncomfortable than what I could have predicted. It was difficult for me to accept that there was a majority of people that disagreed with what I was saying. Mir. referred to them as “many participants”, or “many complaints”, or “a lot of people” and those were vague and inaccurate terms that I wasn’t going to believe so easily. Besides, she kept on pressing me to focus on their activities about Fake News and use my inexistent free time to try to gather the group and ask their opinion in what I was proposing. I assumed that she was making it really difficult for me to try to make an impact on the program. The day moved forward and that French guy appeared with his toolkit, his videos and his stuff. I was already pretty distant of the whole thing. I didn’t care about the content, I cared about the people. I focused on my text for the evening and make a couple of interesting questions during the session just so no one could complain about my participation or the lack of it on the project. I was getting distant in any case. We did some more activities, but I was still piss by the morning censorship.

At some point I had the idea of the ballots. I wanted to first-hand fact-check Mir.’s words about the general rejection of my morning news and my “Awakening Scoops”. I played St. Thomas and I told to myself that seeing was believing. I made the ballots, spread them, and at some point, got censored again by Mir.. She took me by the arm and drag me outside to ask me what I was doing. “I am defending democracy. I am giving them voice, so they can tell me individually if they like or not what I say and what I do.” “You want to confront people face to face, but many people don’t want that” “Have you seen the world?” I asked, “Why do you think there are many far right-wing movements increasing all around the world? It is because people can only vote once every four years. Ask the population more often and adjust to their needs, adjust to what they want and then you will avoid a really dangerous outcome.” “But what do you want? I don’t want that the journalist come and then people show their red cards.” She was really afraid. “I am just giving them the most efficient non-violent and non-intrusive way of giving me automatic feedback that I can think of. It is just for me, although I would love that we would use it for many decisions.” I repeated that sentence a couple of times along the conversation, but she didn’t quite get it.

I was speaking in my clear and wordy tone, just being cautious about my words, trying not to sound violent, and letting my point clear. I had to repeat several times that what I was trying to do was giving them voices independently. But I assume they thought that I was organizing an uprising. In the organization, no one trusted me. But the participants vote green for the usage of the cards. I could have played more demagogic, and pushed the situation further, explaining them that we could get back the control of the exchange if we all moved in the right direction, but hopelessness, the topic I couldn’t talk in the news, won again on their hearts when the quick free time was over and we were trapped in another annoying and boring activity. K. was smarter, for her the day was great. She went to the mountain. For me, a continuous repression.

In the reflection group, Et. took the role of A. B., first victim. It was obvious that they were trying, that they were making changes and that they were listening to what we were saying. But on the other hand, they didn’t trust on us. They were building the perfect “us vs. them” situation, even while implementing our feedback with 3 days of delay. Et. was a perfect scribe, and he took notes of our wishes and comments. Just to show him that we weren’t against, we all thank him his efficiency.

On the evening, there was that organization fair. Before it started, M. T. let me read the text. I didn’t count with the support of any of the member of the organization, I merely didn’t have their censorship avoiding me doing it. I wasn’t alone because I had you and few others listening to my words, but I felt that I wouldn’t be able to do that for long. I read the political text that you had correct me. I also worked a bit on my voice and the way of communication. I read the text offering people to leave the room when they wanted. Many left, some stayed, and some of those that stayed were distracted. Thank them anyway for the effort.

Later on, maybe the next day, you mentioned that you wouldn’t spend your free time listening to me. That also touched me.

I went outside and meditated. I felt it coming when I visualized the future. I felt it running through my right arm, life was filled of wonderful things waiting for me. The fair started, a fair that I couldn’t care less about. We had talked about the possibility of expanding our relationship and how much you liked other participants. I was all-in to have my personal side-project that would end up in a collective manifestation of hedonism and love. But I rushed too much. I should have notice that not everyone was as open minded as I was, that not everyone was as familiar with physical contact as I was, and that not everyone can differentiate love from sex, and sex from love. I promoted and invited you to go ahead with the idea of including people in our sexual encounters as a proof of my trust on you, of my fidelity, of my personal secure approach at our relationship. Maybe, you took it as a lack of engagement, as a lack of interest towards you as a person. Who knows? Looking at the case with perspective, now is clear to me how I should have proceeded. Anyways, I worked out with O., and then we danced a bit guided by you. I interrupted you, rushed, and made them leave. Somehow, the other participants had prepared everything for us outside, putting the tatami and the blankets there. We went there to chill. I caress and touch Karolina out of caring and not exclusively out of sexual lust. We are all suffering souls in this planet. You were doing your thing with O. and G., and I felt secure by being there next to you, supporting you with my silent presence.

G. was a bit too invasive with me, but I was letting him do, just to keep the vibe cool, relax and growing. Most of the people left, I arranged pretty much all the stuff that was outside because I had the energy to do it, and a good leader takes care of their group. G. played “last dick standing” and we end up kissing among the three of us. Kissing a boy is not the thing that I like the most, but I don’t mind if the cause was going to be bigger. I assume that that was also a mistake.

The sky was beautiful, but the night was over. We said goodbye and we went to our different rooms. I was strange. I wasn’t sure about the direction that everything had taken in only one day. I had tried to give voice to the people but seemed to me that the people had already found their respective voices in their smartphones, drawings, and different forms of entertainment. You, my main supporter, had mentioned that the text I had written wasn’t that good. I had rushed the creation of a connection among the participants, making maybe a retrogression. I was confused. Anyways, it seemed that we had advanced at including G. in the game. I had the feeling that we could do great things if we collaborated properly. But did we?

1.5 Belgians in Strasbourg (DAY 5 – 2019-07-30)

“Flip Flops! Or Flop Flops!” I am surprised about how morning stupidities can be so influencing. I was really sleep deprived and this thought came up to my mind at questioning myself if I wanted to wear the flipflops or the flop flops to Strasbourg. The sneakers might become too hot for the day, and I had the intuition that I would spend most of the time barefoot, as I had done all over the week, and as it was my plan for the rest of the days. I chose the flipflops. I went to the bus and I found you there, with an empty spot for me. I sat next to you, talked for a while, and then lied over your legs and played with your vagina. It was very reassuring to think that we were still together on that. For me, signs of affections were the confirmation of my hypotheses and a pacifier for my fears. You liked me, and I liked you. We arrived at the office where we had our departure five days ago. You kept on thinking about O., and I wasn’t paying much attention to that. I had told you that you could do as you pleased. I still felt secure with you. However, it wasn’t my favorite topic of conversation. In the office, the authoritarian boss of the organization and the journalist leaded the conversation, one of the best of the exchange. However, I quickly was silenced and got bored by the already mentioned topics. I had an idea that I considered worthwhile talking about, but I could only express it at the end, and I didn’t find a clear answer on it. Well, time for training then. I warm up my legs, work out my body, and observed how your levels of energy were constantly decreasing. I didn’t want to invade your life, and I let you be free.

We went to the park, did an evaluation that for me felt meaningful, but for many people pointless. I kept training with my feet and legs with the sticks of the park and participating on the activity from time to time. The boss asked me whether I had managed other exchanges before and offered me to work together. Unlike the other facilitators, in half morning, he was intelligent enough to detect potential and put it on his favor, not against him. However, I didn’t have a very good intuition about that person, and I didn’t show a lot of enthusiasm when he mentioned it. We came back to the office, I played football, and then chilled on the floor, just to be kicked out by Son.. I couldn’t care less. I got annoyed by the 50€ but considering the money in my bank account, the lessons I was learning with my presence there were already paying off.

We went to the Lebanese restaurant. We were all tired, but my tiredness was justified on the lack of food due to the fasting. Thus, after I ate, I recovered much of it. I was amused at seeing you eating on a restaurant after having been together sharing our food with our hands on the grass and knowing how little you could follow social standards. On the other hand, I was trying to not to think about Ma.’s behavior. She is Belgian, and that can explain many things. (I have a pretty strong prejudice about Belgians as selfish people). She has complained about the money of the transportation and the participation fee for about 30 minutes on the hall. She had been bugging M. and G. with her mistake, which I found especially unfair considering that the Croatians had had to pay more because of their association not because of any type of personal choice concerning luxury of transporation. I had also come from Brussels and I had only spent 35€. It was difficult for me to imagine someone expending almost 200€ only on the one-way tickets from Belgium to France. I am not sure how or why, but the organization covered the expenses of Ma.’s mistake, and after 30 minutes of complains that everyone had to hear and no negative consequence to her finances, she decided to reward herself and her great performance with a proper dish on the restaurant, social convention that I also profoundly disagree with. Anyway, I tried not to care. You were there, K. was there, Mar. was there, and I was tired. I thought that it was probably something personal. I have grown tired of listening to people complaining about capitalism without doing anything about it. I have grown tired of admiring people incongruences and then trying to moralize with intellectual ideologies that take individual sacrifices to be performed. I have been writing the whole day this text, and right now I was eating some boiled potatoes with vinegar and salt in a plastic recipient of a soup that I took from the trash the evening before leaving towards France. And still, I support a form of capitalism that distributes the wealth evenly and behaves more consciously with the natural resources. In the past, I consumed lots of information and complain for many years about the problems of our society, but I have discovered that I sleep better when my actions are congruent with my moral ideas, and when I am actively participating in changing the system. Hypocrisy is a bit of a harsh word, but not the most inaccurate one in certain situations. Capitalism stands for personal responsibility and the fact that each individual can make the best of the conditions where we are born. I have lived in Belgium 3 years of my life, and it is a bit of a pain to keep on seeing people that had never struggled accepting and being submissive to a system that devours the world. As we experienced with the chairs game, we in Europe are incredibly fortunate for having what we have. We are the richest of the planet, and specifically Belgium is a pretty wealthy country. The worst consequences of the climate change are starting to be paid by the poorest countries. While Belgium becomes the next Spain, in Chad, the drought keeps on killing thousands, and the typhoons of southeast Asia left millions homeless. Ma. could complain about her mistake buying the train tickets, annoy the Croatians with her pointless miseries, and then be rewarded and saved by an external organization; but buying a nice dish to celebrate it was a bit over the top for me. I learned silence; I learn non-contentiousness. I had you seated next to me with your little salad, and I couldn’t do other thing than offered you all my food. Ma. said that it was disgusting the fact that I sometimes eat directly from a can of beans when I am working on my office. Well, life is also built out of effort and sacrifices, not just nice restaurants and mistakes amended by the system people love to complain about.

After the food, I had energy again. I kept on training and pushing the limits of my body a bit further. Climbing the pillars and jumping like a puma. At some point you asked me what my chargers were, and I behaved transactional, and asked you about money. Obviously, it was a joke, and if you would have reminded me for half a second the number of things you were doing for me, I would have written a list on the spot for you. But you moved away, offended. I kept on training. In case you still want to know, these are some of my chargers:

• Love, water, food, air, meditation, movement, stretching, people, understanding, nature, writing, reading, learning…

I was still a bit affected by the idea of you liking O. and your reiterative comments. It was my mind reminding me about my insecurities and my avoidant attachment. I put it off with more movement, more challenges, and sending you some compassion when I looked at how tired you were. I would have loved to spend the evening together if you would have asked me so. But you had started to manifest or letting me know that you needed some personal space from time to time.

Anyways, the activity around the city started. I was in the group with R. and Li., which were great positive and good energies for me. On the other hand, Et., another Belgian, was the leader and he was clearly annoyed by my attempts of democratizing the situation taking part of their power away. He was also scared of not being able to control me, not only by my endless levels of energy, but by my lack of respect to the authority and rules. M. got surprised that I could shower on a handbasin on the toilet, which for me was the most obvious thing to do. I kept on jumping and moving and then the event of the tram happened. I was playing to say goodbye when Et. realized that he was far away from controlling me. He played violence. I played silent pride and cold revenge. He threatened me with expelling me from the exchange. M. T. supported him whatever they said later. I swallowed my pride, my words, my being. I looked into his eyes asking him to relax while he was shouting at me, holding me by the arm. I asked people to remember the moment he invaded me physically, just so we were all in the same page if the situation evolved. I played it as cool as I could. I took my calendar and save a reminder for the 5th of August that stated my intentions of giving an extreme negative feedback with an explanation of what had just happened. Emotions come and go. As a psychologist I am very aware of that. But the consequences of an action should be maintained until the person has learned their lesson. I put my shawl over my head. I couldn’t do it in the Vipassana when I was feeling hopeless, lonely and depressed but that bunch of authoritarian fearful guys wouldn’t take me away the pleasure of withdrawing from life for a while. I listened to 10 minutes of binaural beats, focusing on my breath and letting the emotions develop and fade away. Mar. kept on interrupting me, because her discomfort at watching at me was more important than my feelings. I asked several times to leave me alone, but she couldn’t. Maybe she was trying to care for me, maybe she was just pacifying her inner turmoil at seeing me in such a strange and distressed way. After the 10 minutes, the record of Carlos and me in the forests of Belgium started to sound on my ears. I couldn’t help myself from smiling, laughing, loving, and glowing from inside. I felt so connected to Carlos, so supported by him, by his thoughts, by his ideas, by the love he randomly sends me from time to time. Carlos is a great human being, and I am incredibly lucky of having him on my life. And he was there in the tram, saving me from my thoughts, from my feelings, taking me away from that negative situation where I was trapped. I loved him so, so much, and I enjoyed so, so much, that it even felt better the realization that I was probably the person feeling the best of the whole tram after such a negative encounter. (Don’t get me wrong “such a negative encounter” means nothing compared to what you have gone through on your life, or to what so many others have and are suffering at this moment on the planet. It is just how the story is being written…).

We went down the tram and it started raining. People protected themselves from the water falling from the sky, and I let it wet my cheeks. Lat. and others got closer and asked if everything was okay, if I should take care of my health because I could catch a cold. I thank them for caring and dismiss their advice. I shared some of my water with mint, and lemon that we have prepared on the restaurant. Another tram came and I laugh at R.’s plastic raincoat. Then, I teased R. and Li. explaining them how Indian people smoke weed in the name of Shiva. Eventually, I came back to my phone and wrote, to feel a bit more at peace, to feel more justice. I came up with this:

I WILL NOT TALK IN YOUR PRESENCE

If you touch me

I’ll get back my space

Listening transparent noise

Wearing the burka in the tram

Feeling the rain on my face

Sharing my holy water

Thanking not needed care

Admiring Milano’s catwalks

And smoking in the name of

Bam Bam bole

A priceless lesson for me

May become an expensive one for you

Forgive them father for they don’t know what they do.

Remain silent in their presence for they attack your words.

Then I prepared some lines in case I was asked to discuss what had happened:

I’m using my right to refuse to talk with violent people.

Until he apologizes and ask for forgiveness, I’ll will not utter a word to a violent person.

If you’re interested in the content of my mind, I will do it outside of his presence.

And I connected again with my warrior spirit.

I don’t eat meat and I am always hungry.

I don’t mind biting; my teeth are trained.

And a witty paradox to lift up my intellectual mood.

I wish I could be extremely intolerant with violence, but violent people don’t tolerate this type of extremism.

I also had the luck of doing some express therapy with Mar.

How often do you appreciate breathing?

She surprised me a lot at her determined belief about me crying on the tram. I hadn’t cry. My eyes might had become red, as my face. Red of anger and unfairness. But I hadn’t cry. I wouldn’t mind admitting it, but it was simply inaccurate to say that I had. However, Mar. was a firm believer of the idea that I had cry and she seemed convinced on spread what she thought she had seen. I realized that miracles are not done by messiahs or prophets themselves, but by blind believers. Mar. seemed to change a bit from her first statement of “I hate everyone” to the one we agreed later of “I love everyone”. It felt superior to realized that I my mood had been transformed so quickly and that I was fully enjoying my walk. On the other hand, the selfishness attitude of Ma.’s wasn’t able to empathize with my mood or my emotional state at all. She even got annoyed by my lack of willingness of interacting and collaborating with the rest of the group. I took the chance to connect more with Mar., Cs., R. and Li.. I got sure to make it clear that I still was the guy with the loudest laugh, and the most positive attitude. They couldn’t silence me so easily. They couldn’t. My ego kept on growing and growing. We arrived at the city center and the group split. Old people on one side (R., Li., Lu., Et.), And. by its own, and young people on the other side (Ma., Mar., Cs.). I didn’t want to be alone. I wanted to be with young people, just to feel young. Ma. tried to escape from me in several occasions. She first started walking with the girls, then mentioned that there were not enough tram tickets for everyone, and finally accepted that I wasn’t going to give up so easily. I also did it to annoy her a little bit. My ego was having fun around. I turned to my phone and my social media. I send message to my friends all over the world, connect on the distance with them, send them love, remind them that I was alive, and I was thinking about them. The girls were shopping, and I was having fun by my own. I felt really powerful. I reminded myself of all the things that were going right on my life: my job, my house, my finances, my friends, my personal development, my creative endeavors, my internet presence. A few kids and some grown-ups with low emotional control weren’t going to shake my foundations. After few shops I got bored, I saw that other people were together somewhere else on the city, and I wanted to meet them.

I went to the cathedral, but I arrived too early. I waited for them listening to the meditation. Send some love to the planet, gratitude to my being and the people of my life, and the rain took me out of the meditation in the right moment. Another of those synchronicities that I couldn’t explain you at the mountain. I saw the group of people that I was supposed to meet, but they hadn’t seen me. I stuck to them until my needs call me back. They were shopping, the rain was getting stronger and there was nothing to be done. I entered a bar, shitted, washed my face and mouth, and remembered that I wanted to buy condoms for everyone just to avoid any logistical limitations screw up a potential sex party. While I was running under the rain looking for an open pharmacy at 20.15, I had the feeling that I was again forcing the situation. The pharmacy was closed but there was a condom dispenser outside. I didn’t have cash. I went to the bank and they changed me a 10€ paper for coins. I think I spend about 12€ in condoms of different types and classes. Most of them are now in my bathroom, waiting for their occasion. It felt right to the extent that I wasn’t doing it for me. A good leader takes care of the members of their tribe. I was doing it for everyone. After my secret adventure, I caught the group back. I didn’t know where I was, where I had to go, when I had to be where, and how I was supposed to go. Logistics, you know. I ran barefoot under the rain, following the live location that Ah. has shared on WhatsApp. It felt like a spy in a James Bond movie. I found them, and then, let myself be taken to the restaurant.

You were there. I didn’t feel like talking to anyone. I wanted to be understood, not asked and questioned about what had happened during the day. My ego was still pretty active, and you comment about O. touched me enough to not wanted to talk more with you. Besides, I was extremely tired. I hadn’t eaten almost anything during the day, just the nectarine that I had taken from the office before our lunch, and the durum falafel. I was on my limits. I tried to drink the tea, but you were talking Russian with K.. Anyway, it was a good excuse to let myself be taken away from reality. You asked me how my day had been, what my feelings were, and I told you: “I will answer in half an hour.”

I played the hypnosis track under the turban. I let my body alone and dove deep inside the dark places of my mind where beliefs are stored. I clearly had said to K. to tell anyone not to interrupt me. I trusted on her. I felt betrayed with each interruption, but I achieved forgiveness. She was K.. I couldn’t get angry with her. I got interrupted several times: the waitress, V., O.. Enough was enough. I learned my lesson. K. wasn’t taking care of me, I had to do it myself. When I hit O.’s face, people understood a bit better that I was a sleeping beast, not a dead mouse. The hypnosis kicked pretty strongly. I got awaked with a huge self-confidence, renewed energy and the impetus of conquering the planet once more.

“You are such a liar”, you said. “You are such a lion”, I understood. I walked away feeling even more reinforced.

I didn’t want to talk with anyone, not even with you. But you had saved the food for me. I said “Thank you”. I wanted to be separated from the group. I wanted to feel different, to feel distant. I was expecting the social committee to appear with the meeting on the back of the bus as we had agreed the previous day. I went to the back of the bus. No one appeared. I reminded O. not to touch me if I didn’t want, being assertive and trying to avoid any connotations of violence. I couldn’t find you on the bus when I got in. I could have tried to sit with you and talk about your day, but fate place me alone. I tried to write, and I wrote. I tried to sleep, and I couldn’t. When we arrived, I tried again to talk with you. I told O. to find you, but you were gone. I recompose myself, and left the bus calmly, still tired, and with the pain of the photosensitivity on my eyes but feeling like a lion walking on the savanna. No predators, only preys. The driver on the bus couldn’t rush me. I looked into his eyes and I thank him the patience. I felt extremely powerful.

You appeared out of nowhere. But it was too late. I wanted to talk with you before. I wanted to know your mind. Still, you had been the person taking care of me, the one that had asked for a container and collected the food. I had to say thank you. But it was a sing of boastfulness more than one of gratitude. It was a cold thank you, not a felt one. You got the message.

I went inside and proved everyone that me and my body were still functioning no matter the conditions of our situations. Only with the nectarine, the durum, and a bite of an apple, after a day of walking and moving around the city, after the confrontation with Et. and M. T. , and after days of sleep deprivation, I did my workout routine. K. told me that looked like a broken computer. To me it looked like the ultimate proof of respect. It is funny how the same situation can be interpreted in such different ways for different people.

I went to the shower, cleaned my clothes, wore my swimming pants and pullover, and went out to see what the people offered me. In. (UK) was there. In. was that person I hadn’t had the opportunity of talking enough with. I had just crossed a few words and listened to her comments on the sessions. It was clear that she wasn’t like the rest, that she was more mature, more intelligent, wiser, and probably also questioned her presence in that charade. I had offered her to participate with us in the social committee. She had politely rejected it twice, and I thought it was enough. However, that day on the hall she was there, willing to talk and mediate, genuinely curious to know about my version of the story. I shared it with them and the rest of you. I played my non-violent passive redundant, overly clear and precise way of communication, just so no one could tell me that I was being too direct or aggressive. I confronted Ma. a couple of times, as well as Mar. about their consumerist behavior. I willingly seek for help and advice from In., who told me things that I have already been told in the past, or that I was already aware of. Empathy, placing myself on the other person shoes, Socratic questions. I know them, but I rarely apply them. I thank In. for the effort. She talked about my social life in Belgium, and whether I had people to talk with. I confessed that the life of an expat sometimes gets difficult concerning fulfilling social relationships. Even more if you are the weird type I consider myself. I was going to start talking about how grateful and happy I felt for having met you and your undeniable role as pacifier and emotional supporter during the exchange when you stood up and left to the hall. It didn’t hurt, it was just bad timing. Deep inside I really wanted you to listen to me indirectly admitting that you were a key piece in the puzzle of my balance. I wanted you to know that I still loved you and that I valued you. But you stood up and left. I told it anyways.

We talked a bit more and then went inside. I kept on praising In. for her social wisdom and made her consider that she the most important person of her life. I made her reflect on the way she talked to others and how she talked to herself. I couldn’t see it coming, but it seemed that those comments were a motivator for her to leave the next day. I was expelling another of my believers from the exchange. She had called me extraordinary, and then unconsciously and unwillingly I had facilitated her departure. Another asset left. We were becoming alone.

It crossed my mind the idea of going to your room and lie with you. But Mar.’s mood and your need of distance made me avoid that option. I had the huge luck of having a deep conversation with In. (Portugal). My ego was still activated, and more than a compassionate and understanding psychologist, I was a pushing coach giving a wake-up call to a powerful dormant being. I showed In. my routines, my affirmations, my mindset, my warrior attitude, my respect towards my health, body, mind, and spirit. I was really tired after the day, the fasting and the workout. I was really sleep deprived and my brain couldn’t have rested. And still, my kindness forced me to stay awake and talk with In. while she shared her psychological struggles. I prioritized her well-being over mine. We talked for at least an hour about my pride, my ego, our relationships (you and me), her relationship with herself, with the project, with her family, and with her life. I helped as much as I could help her at that moment, and she recommended me that morning hugs are less invasive that night ones. I took the advice. We hugged. I was uplifted by the fact that she had opened up to me, that she had allowed herself to be touched and touch a man without any sexual implications, that she was a bit freer and more at peace.

I was extremely tired. I went to my tatami on my room. Lied there and tried to sleep. But two meditation, and several binaural beats later my brain didn’t want to. It wasn’t only the somatization of the dermatitis in my hands; the whole experience was starting to infect my mind. I was suffering from insomnia, that type of negative insomnia that I was advising A. B. and B. about. The insomnia of an untamed mind in a stressful situation.

1.6 The devil at the mountain (DAY 6 – 2019-07-31)

I woke up and did what I was supposed to do. I collected my courage, went to your room, and with my hurt beating as when I approached girls that I like on bars, I opened the door of your room and lied next to you. Mar. complained, but you didn’t reject me. You felt my chest raising up and down, you noticed my stress, my strong heartbeats. Yes, I was nervous, yes, I felt vulnerable. Yes, I didn’t know what your thoughts were after the episode of the previous day. But you hugged me and loved me. You reminded me about the distance, but you still came to me, looking for my body. Mar. came back with her suffering to destroy our encounter, once again. It is incredible how detrimental for our relationships all those interruptions have been. Maybe detrimental, maybe reinforcing, who knows. Things that are difficult are more valuable.

So, we couldn’t connect in the morning as I would have liked it. At that point, I have already taken the decision of taking care of myself and my life. The stupid comment of Etienne about answering work emails during the exchange two days ago had made things clear: I could, and I was going to prioritize my life to that project. During your talk about Stonian language I started to feel anxious and trapped. What the fuck was I doing there? Doing nothing, fighting for what? To what results. Just to be blamed by people, just to keep on confronting them for my good willingness. It had nothing to see with you or K., I know you know. It was all inside me and had to go out. That is why I went out and meditated. I needed it so much.

M. T. came, interrupted me, and after trying my best to not be violent and express my need of solitude, she kept on pushing me to participate in the activity. An activity that I didn’t give a fuck about it. The facilitators couldn’t see what was going on in front of their eyes. Thanks to my group I could keep on meditating and managing my state of mind. They let me the space I needed. They reminded me that I had to take care of myself. After the coffee break, I got to know that In. (UK) was leaving, and I went to her room for talking and saying goodbye.

It was a wonderful conversation. She stated her mind, she mentioned all the things that we shared about the project, how she could have tried to stay if the project could have had any better quality, if the dynamics were better. But they weren’t. She also mentioned how my comment about self-love had influenced her enough to take the decision and choose for her life and herself. Souna supported her and mentioned that she was also willing to leave for similar reasons and that was very appropriate to use In. departure as an excuse. I was shocked. I was sad, I was defeated. People kept on leaving. People chose to leave. People chose to give up, to be defeated, to accept an unchangeable fate. All my warrior attitude, all my attempts, all my fighting wasn’t serving for anything. I had learned about the healthy level of disengagement, and I was applying it, but they were giving me an even better lesson, the detachment and surrender. I had realized that that was an “us or them” situation. Either we learned our lesson and got disengaged and detached from the project, showing hopelessness and perishing during the rest of the project; or they realized what was going on and changed the dynamic. I had already done my best. I couldn’t do anything else. Not anymore. I cried at In.’ room while confessing my need of fighting for my life, and for the life of others. Confessing my unwillingness to give up, to surrendered; confessing that no matter whether it was two days or two hours I would fight until the last second. Expressing my need and will of easing the life of others, of reducing their suffering and making the world a better place. Souna and In. saw me crying with compassion. I broke down in front of them. No matter how strong and alpha I had felt the previous night doing push ups after a day of fasting. There I was getting in touch with my personal defeat, assuming that the healthiest strategy was a withdrawal. I just wanted to make the world a better place, to help people to enjoy their lives more, to be happy making them happy.

After I recover myself, I realized that In. and Sa. were being more intelligent and wiser than me. They were taking more care of themselves than what I was doing. I wasn’t practicing what I was preaching. In Spanish we say that “Una retirada a tiempo es una victoria” ¹ I was starting to believe it. I told In. that I lived with the constant worry that the world could become hell. Although it seems that is evolving into a better place, that we are moving forwards, there are still many fears about humanity that make me lose my hopes from time to time: climate change, artificial intelligence, nationalism, selfishness, wealth inequality. Later on, In. gave me a book named The new silk roads about China’s commercial strategy to become the next world ruler. I told her that that book wasn’t helping my existential fears about the future of humankind. We laugh, I hugged them. I hugged them again. I didn’t want to leave that room. I didn’t want to find myself alone again in a place where I was realizing I didn’t belong. I detached from the room, from In., and from Sa.. They told me to rest, and they were deeply right.

I tried to go down and follow the lecture about Erasmus plus of that woman, but I couldn’t. Sonia tried to talk with me, and I answered one of those sentences that I had prepared: Right now, I don’t feel like talking. Maybe later.

I took the falafel that you have saved for me last night. I ate it on the gym and fell the drowsiness of the after-meal clogging my mind. It was a good moment for a siesta. I went to the room and tried to sleep. I put the binaural beats of 10 minutes. Once, twice, three times, four times. It wasn’t possible. I was deeply sleep deprived, but I wasn’t able to sleep. I was suffering from insomnia again. That exchange was getting into my psychological health. That was deeply unfair. That was a clear signal that I had to change my strategy.

I went to the lunchroom. I wasn’t hungry, I was just fooling around people. Trying to find someone that could understand me. In. (Portugal) told me to look at the envelope, to read the messages. She saved me. I found your note, Maf.’s, In.’, the questions, the support. I had tears on my eyes, and I looked for you.

I went down and I found you outside, taking the sun, enjoying yourself. I came to you, we talked. You were trying to smoke, I was just thinking on lying there, hugging each other and giving us love. I was extremely tired, extremely sensitive, and extremely receptive to words. You mentioned empathy, you mentioned compassion, you mentioned letting go, and you mentioned distance. You propose me to smoke and my dopamine kicked hard. You confessed that we could have rule the world together and that comment sparked my hopes and energies again. The lighters didn’t work, and I climbed looking for one. F. never knew that I saw her sleeping. I found G. in the door and took his lighter. I warned you about how spiritual and symbolic I become when I smoke, but you accepted it. My energy levels were really low, but the cannabis made me feel as if I was strong again.

I smoked and you left me alone. I knew that you were going to come back, I had full faith on you. I stretched, connected with my body, with my muscles, my tendons and my bones. I re-connected with myself. There was a moment I looked into a window and found myself on the reflection. It was like a flashback of those years of teenagerhood when I struggled and suffered so much with the self-acceptance of my corporal image. It was a direct connection to those episodes where, while being high and drugged, I annihilate millions on neurons by looking at the mirror trying to understand who I was, and why what I was seeing was the container of my self. However, that afternoon, I didn’t want to go that deep, I wasn’t ready for that. I avoided the mirror, my insecurities, and that deeper and darker part of my unexplored existence.

You arrived like a savior while I was stretching on the stairs, and we escape the prison together. I was so happy and excited about our re-encounter. It felt so good to have time just for the two of us, away from the project, away from the people, away from interruptions. We were going to the mountain, to the nature. There where we couldn’t have been yet. There where we should have been all the time. You said that you were feeling like walking a pet. For me, it was like releasing the beast. We kissed on the cemetery and it seemed that the passion increased. I stopped myself because of the social norms that have told me that having sex between a church and the remains of death people could make some people feel offended.

I asked why humans venerate dead people instead of alive ones. Fortunately, I had been saved a bit ago by my own veneration envelope and those people that loved me. We moved to the nature. I was following you. We both were barefoot as it couldn’t be otherwise. But I wasn’t expecting it that we were going to go up the mountain, avoiding paths and without any type of shoes. I was really tired, but high, with my brain started to function at thousands of miles per hour, while my body demanded for immediate rest. But you kept on walking, on telling me to remain silent and distant, and pushing my intellectual and physical limits further and further.

It all seemed like an initiatory journey, like the one of Dante going to the hell, or The Alchemist crossing the desert, or so many other tales, where the protagonist is led by a mysterious being that seems to have all the answers and know the main character even better than himself. I was high. You were there guiding the path, taking control over the situation. I was extenuated, suffering from my naked feet, from my failing muscles, while you seemed full of energy, walking along the road and through the forest like if it was a soft carpet. I knew that you had a higher tolerance to pain, but it looked that you weren’t feeling anything while I was continuously holding my complaints. I just wanted to arrive somewhere. You kept on saying that you knew where we were going, that it was close, that is was just a bit further up. Each time I discovered something about myself you answered with an “I know” that made me more and more confused about who you really were. At some point I thought you were an angel leading me to the sky, to the gods. At other points, I thought you were a Nymph of the forest that was going to make a ritual with me on the top. I even thought that K., Marte and others will be there waiting for us on the top, waiting to my arrival for giving me the deserved reward. I thought that you were testing me, that I had to prove myself to enter the realm of the divine. You kept on making comments about reality, about dimensions, about universe, about consciousness. My brain wasn’t ready to accept that. I was going crazy. The whole walk was really archetypical, and you were touching very deep and symbolic parts of my mind. You caught my brain off-guard because of the weed and the sleep deprivation. You were even tiring the self-control mechanism by reminding me all the time about silence and distance. Meanwhile, my body was trying to survive, trying to avoid drinking the scarce water that we had (“You are so unprepared, Carlos”), trying to avoid noticing the pain in the feet, legs, arms and back from the spines and the stones. Trying to function in their lack of nutrients and lack of sleep. I am not sure if this is true but walking next to you that evening is probably the most difficult thing that I have done to date. I was lucky enough I had you next to me, giving me water from time to time and motivating my masculine self to prove my strength and endurance to you. I wouldn’t been able to do it alone.

However, you kept on pushing my limits. You gave me your handbag, and the Sherpa transformed into a lord. I was the servant; I was the one really below in the relationship. More pain, more unfocused attention, more distracted thoughts jumping to my mind, more fears about losing my soul and being on the top of the mountain, more unknown things that I wanted to know. For all the unknown things in life I kept on walking and following you. For the Tao. Higher and up, higher and up. More pain, more stones, more spines. I remember how I get trapped with my t-shirt in one plant. I was about crying of frustration and powerlessness. You were treating me pretty harshly, but I had my own medicine. I realized that I was treating many people in that similar way.

We arrived at the stone, and you accepted to stop. There the angel leading me to the sky became the devil trading for my soul. Your way of communication was too perfect, too prepared, too skilled for me. “Who are you?” and “What do you want?” were the questions that I repeated and repeated all the time. For me, you couldn’t admit that you were the devil and that you wanted my soul. For me, it was the ultimate test to Carlito Fluito. The devil wants pure souls because those are the most valuable, those that can save other souls from misery and suffering. I had been crying about my willingness to save the world that morning. After days of fighting for fairness, justice, and love, and when I kept on seeing people giving up, I had been brought to the top of the mountain by you, a devil disguised like a beautiful woman. It all made sense in my mind at that moment. I was taking you from the head, looking into your eyes while you smiled me, and answered me “It doesn’t matter who I am”, and “I have already told you what I want”. At some point, you stopped looking like a beautiful woman to look more like an androgyne being, half male, half female, blue eyes, small breast, hair on the armpits, smiling at the sun, and with your hair in a bun done by my hands. You were the devil requesting my soul.

My brain was melting from outside by the sun, and from inside by my thoughts. I was going to collapse. You took of your shirt, which I understood as an invitation of sex. It was a really suitable spot for having sex. Middle of the mountain, no interruptions, beautiful vistas. I imagined me asking you for the screams you couldn’t give me in the hostel in our nights together. I really wanted you to cry out all your pleasure to the mountain. But I was on the verge of collapse. You asked for distance from time to time, but then you were half naked in front of me, moving the bottle of water from your legs to your side, mentioning things like “I have taken the bottle away, there are no barriers anymore for me”. I was extremely confused. Was the devil going to trade my soul for having sex with him? Did the devil want my soul in exchange of a life of fame and endless energy and creativity? Was the fact of having sex with you in the mountain the pact of trading my soul? My mind was extremely confused. I knew I had sinned by smoking, and I knew that that was my penitence.

At some point you even turned around, offering me your ass and I thought that what you wanted was a corporal punishment that I couldn’t give you either. We kissed for a bit and you clicked the tongue with disapproval. You were blocking my brain even more. I wasn’t able to fully surrender, and I was begging you to lie next to me on the path. You didn’t concede that either. I tried to get horny, but I couldn’t. Saying that I was tired or that it was the first time of my life that that happened sounded like excuses to me. Facts or not, I didn’t want to excuse myself. I shared with you some secrets in a low voice, and you reinforced my self-confidence making me talk louder. “Aeta!” I expressed my gratitude to you and the mountain. You kept on talking about my lack of empathy, my lack of trust, my lack of compassion, my lack of surrender, my lack of silence, and my lack of distance. Weed makes me unfocused and weakens my impulse control. You were asking me for both.

You decided that we should keep on going up. I surrender. I accepted. I tied my t-shirt on my head to keep my mind together. The topic of trust kept on appearing and appearing again. I was questioning myself all the time whether my reactions to your comments and behavior were signals of luck of trust on you. But so many painful situations weren’t making any easier for my trust to develop. We stopped a bit further to drink water, but not for long. We continued more and more. I was dying, you had killed me, and it felt like you were dragging my corpse around the mountain. It felt like I was succeeding on tasks and test but there was never a reward, just teaching after teaching, and lesson after lesson, test after test. You had asked me before our departure what were my values, and I have answered “Growth”. I should have said “Love”. You kept on repeating that I could take the easy way, but that would mean that I wouldn’t grow that much. You kept on talking like if you already knew everything, like if you perfectly knew my answers and my thoughts. You kept on weakening my body and my mind. When we arrived to the big rock, where you climbed the tree, I was already defeated. I didn’t know when to talk and when to remain silent; I didn’t know when to stay close and follow your steps and when to be distant; I didn’t know when to ask and when to answer; I didn’t know when to quit and when to keep on walking; I didn’t know when to leave and separate from you, to detach from the journey, and when to convince myself that we should go till the end together. It all felt like my life was being that walk through the mountain. You record the conversation, so it would be lovely to come back to it on the future.

We arrived at the big rock. We climbed it and I couldn’t think about anything else than lying there with or without you. I was already abandoning the possibility of you supporting me. You kept on going with your energy, with your games, climbing trees, and fooling around. I wanted to show my help and availability. To offer you my assistance in case you need it, but you reminded me that you were a strong and independent woman. I gave you space. I almost uttered a couple of times those non-invasive warning comments that I had read somewhere. Instead of “Be careful of what you do”, “Be conscious of how you are doing it”. But I was very unsecure, very tired. I wasn’t able to try and fail anymore. You had nullified me. I waited for you to climb the tree while carrying your handbag and being responsible of all your stuff. I was avoiding any comment, but couldn’t avoid thinking that if you fell, I would have to find energies from the deepest parts of my physiology to carry your heavy injured body down the mountain. I was afraid of you, afraid of me, afraid of everything. Fear is so tiring.

I took your photo, still feeling unsecure about whether the quality of it was enough, or you would just complaint and derogatorily reject my attempts of approval, again. I was hopeless. You even mentioned that I talked too much for you, and you said it in a tone that was more determinant than I expected. I had learned to surrender already. Then, I learned silence. I just focused on my body, on my pain, on my vanishing supplies of energy, and kept on breathing and crying my tears in the direction of my soul. Then, from time to time, you started to speak. You spoke about topics that were deeply personal, and important for you, but you had destroyed my brain. You were expecting me to understand and follow every word you were saying, and I was even afraid of telling you that my mind wasn’t working anymore, that my attention, my memory, my perception wasn’t working. 30 seconds of rest meant for me and my body the perfect opportunity for falling sleep wherever I was. It all felt like a cruel punishment, a cruel test that I hadn’t asked for. It all felt like a trap that was leading me down and down to a world of suffering and pain. I thought that it served me to develop my empathy towards others, towards your suffering, but my being was too focus on its own survival for paying attention to other people.

We find a road that went down. I just wanted to arrive, to finish the adventure, to assume that I had survived, but you pushed me a bit more. You had been polishing a walking stick and you asked me to take a shortcut crossing down the mountain because it was shorter. Few meters down, you offered me the stick, which kept me walking. That stick was really meaningful for me. I was becoming Moses; I was a prophet. Later on, you justified yourself telling me that no one forced me to do anything of what I did, and you might be right, but let the anonymous reader decide where the individual free will starts and ends. The way you were offering me the shortcut didn’t seem as an option, but as a duty, as another test to prove myself.

We arrived at the house, and I was just thinking about entering a safe area, get some drink, some water, some food, and some rest. I offered you to try to meet the owners, to talk with other human beings. You accepted to cross the fence. I performed a somersault when we entered the grass and you said: “You enjoyed too much” and crossed back to the spines. It felt horrible to be punished for enjoying myself, but I assumed my lack of self-control and came back to the pain and the suffering. I was too tired to complain, or to express any type of anger or confrontation with you. I had already learned to surrender, to remain silent, and to suffer inwards.

We arrived at the road and you found the blackberries. I could only lie down. You offered me some fruits and I eat them. After few seconds, I realized that it would be selfish to stay there lying down while you collected the fruits and I tried to help you. You sent me to the other side of the plant. I would have eaten them all, but surrender, silence, empathy, trust and self-control were, by that time, accumulated lessons. We kept on walking and at some point, you checked the smartphone. In any moment of the past I would have said that it was a big disrespectful behavior, but patience and ignorance were my personal reminders for keeping myself silent. You mentioned that the facilitators were looking for us, worrying for us, and with the idea of calling the police. I couldn’t believe any of what I was experiencing. I just wanted to arrive and rest, no drama, no anything. I asked you to speak for both, and I wished I was able to remain silent, trusting in your words, surrendering myself completely to you and the situation. I didn’t know what was going to happen, if they were going to expel us both or just me. I didn’t care much. I was hypoglycemic, struggling to keep myself walking. The berries gave me some energy, but not enough to care too deeply about anything. You had shared with me your fears of attachment and closeness on the mountain, and then on the road you shared how you have got to know the feedback of your audition. I was just listening. I was just giving you what you had asked me to give you: space, silence, trust, attention, surrender. I was just there for you. It felt really surprising to get to know later that you felt empty after our walk, when I had given you all the things you had asked me for.

I am not sure whether you were playing with me all the time, or you were being genuine. It could be complementary to know your version of the story. We found the police, and we almost got into their car. I didn’t know if I should talk or not. Remaining silent was uncomfortable and talking would bring guilt. I was trapped in a paradox where both action and non-action were detrimental for my existence. We arrived and luckily, people didn’t want to talk with us.

I went to the shower. Warm water. I cleaned myself and my clothes, dressed up and found K. and In. (Portugal) to explain me how it has been the day in the prison. I couldn’t barely move. There was no food without meat, and I eat K.’s peaches and fruits. You came to the room speaking about religion and God. The whole walk on the mountain had been a painful spiritual experience of growth and self-improvement. Religion and god are for kids, are simplifications of something much deeper, much more human, much more real, than a mystical force somewhere ruling the universe. Sometimes it feels nice to think that everything has sense and meaning that everything is already planned and that we are all part of a perfectly structured game. Actually, that was the feeling that kept on repeating during the exchange. Even Souna had asked me directly that day: “Do you think that everything happens for a reason?” like if she was going ad lib, departing from the script, like if it was a direct call to my being, to what I was experiencing, and to the fact that everything was already plotted. We had also talked about synchronicities, and you kept on squeezing my mind asking for meanings and definitions that I didn’t know, and I couldn’t came up with.

“Do you believe in God?” you asked me. “I believe on you” I said. I assumed that for your smile and renewed energy you had just came from talking with O.. Even, the conversation topic was too religious for having experienced a divine epiphany. There had been a preacher between you and your new beliefs. I have had lots of talks with many religious people from many traditions. Muslims are quite interesting, since they are the monotheistic religion that is surviving and thrilling in times of the advancement of technology and science. Actually, their idea of god is really interesting, and the fact that they don’t humanize it, makes it more powerful and resilient compared with the Christian god that gets angry at humans and sends his son to be killed by us. Muslims concept of god is simpler and more powerful, more encompassing, and the rigorous practices that believers have to practice make them committed and convincing preachers. I am spiritual and poly religious. I believe on human beings, on humankind and on the infinite ignorance that we all have inside us. I am open to new views, but they should be views moving me towards growth, not towards comfort. Religion is easy, spirituality is challenging. I didn’t have any energy to argue at that point. I was just merely surviving in K.’s bed. It reminded me to my Vipassana experience, when, after my first committed meditation, I collapsed on the floor of my bed, just raising one arm, to prove myself that I wasn’t fully dead. Even further, you room had the element of Mar. entering from time to time to complain about my existence. I didn’t know what to do or what to say to her. Helping and caring didn’t seem to matter for her. She wanted something and it was the way it had to be done. No further discussion or argumentation.

I went to the lunchroom. I tried to write, I tried to focus on something, I tried to sleep, I tried to try. My brain and body weren’t working. At some point, I quitted life. I went to my room and fell sleep.

1.7 Surrendering my soul to the world, making love with the universe (DAY 7 – 2019-08-01)

I woke up pretty refreshed. I found you outside, taking the sun on the tatami. I shared with you the story of Paola, the girl I didn’t kiss when I was 11. You spoke about your fears of attachment, your insecurities and your Don Juan syndrome that kept on destroying your relationships. You told me how you get bored often about relationships, and how you end up as soon as you feel they are not contributing anything new in your life.

The sessions started and I had perfectly learned my lesson. You had told me the previous day not to waste my energy during the sessions. I took my laptop and started working on my website, on the things that I had neglected from my life, on reorganizing and bringing back my duties. The session was pretty productive. I kind of interact a couple of times, but the distancing I got from the whole thing felt really good. I wrote about attachment and answered the question that the anonymous participant had suggested me.

I took another look at the envelope and thought that you had written the one with so many teachings that you had told me on the mountain. Empathy, compassion, writing, letting go… It seems that the author wasn’t you after all, but In. (Portugal). Thus, she kept on saving me from the shadows.

My head was still a bit of a turmoil, and you seemed perfectly secure, perfectly fine, perfectly at peace. I was still digesting the lessons from the previous day. I asked you about how to control my attention, but you couldn’t answer. We separated and I end up in the church, where I had restrained my impulses of having sex with you in front of a cemetery. I told my group that I would focus on myself. I entered the church and practice anapana (attention on the breath) for 30 minutes, just listening and attending to my breath. I went out, we filmed the video, and then I started training. Visualizations arrived to me as the correct tool in the correct moment. I was able to land the cork after few attempts. It was incredible how powerful the mind is. All seemed a huge synchronicity. I was feeling strong and energetic again. I went to the hall, skip lunch and kept on training, kept on visualizing. It was wonderful how fast I could advance just by interiorizing the movement before attempting it.

After the lunch, I finished the text, I gave it to In. for correction and proofreading, and publish it on the website together with the slow-motion video she had recorded. A super-productive day. I was feeling thrilled again. I had learned my lesson, got detached from the exchange, do my own, learn and grow. Everything was in order again.

1.7.1 Attachment and spiritual evolution (2019-08-01)

I

Recently, I was asked the following question:

“If I strip away my attachment to relationship and accomplishment who am I underneath?”

I cannot answer who you are underneath, because I don’t know you. But I can try to say what you will become.

The shortest and most spontaneous answer that I could say is:

Free. When you strip away from your attachment, you will become free.

But security is needed.

 

II

For Buddha, attachment was the cause of suffering.

For every human being, including Buddha, attachment is the first relationship we develop with another being.

Attachment exists because we are born dependent. You may have heard that human beings, out of all the known life in this universe, are the animals who are most dependent at the time of birth. Most people nowadays are familiar with neuroplasticity, the fact that the brain keeps on leaning and changing all over our lives and development (cite required). However, more people may be unfamiliar with the fact that the skull, the container of the brain, is not completely closed when we are born (cite required). Apart from facilitating the already painful birth to the mother, the softness of the bones of the skull in newborns allows the brain to develop and expand the fastest during our first years.

Focusing on learning requires a safe environment. When we are unable to live by ourselves independently, the safety of an environment is determined by the people inhabiting that space, that universe. The famous experiments supporting this idea were carried out by Bowlby (cite required). Some mothers and their kids were in a room full of toys. The kids were playing around while the mother was patiently seated. At some point, the mother left the room leaving the kid alone. Healthy kids stopped playing, stopped exploring, stopped learning. All kids cry. They suffered at their realization of their loneliness, of their dependency, of their vulnerability. They expressed their fear, pain, and suffering by crying. Crying for help, crying for support. Crying for love.

Love is the most effective pacifier. Love is built on trust. After a couple of minutes, the mothers entered the room and tried to pacify the kids. The ones that were familiar with the love of their mothers calmed down really fast. Those that couldn’t quickly connect and understand that the mothers had come back and were giving them love, took longer to calm down and return to an explorative behavior.

Bowlby divided the reaction of the kids in several categories: secure, anxious-ambivalent anxious-avoidant, and disorganized. All excepting the secure, are insecure. (You can read more on Wikipedia about this).

Then, the psychological literature made us believe that we are conditioned for the rest of our lives according to the type of relationship we developed with our first caregiver, mostly our mothers.

People with secure attachment are related to better outcomes in many aspects of life. Interpersonal relationships (romantic, familial, friendship), goal achievement, academic success and such a long list of things that I grow skeptic of it (You can read many of these in Wikipedia as well, in the section of Attachment in adults). It is for me difficult to believe that the first relationship that we had is determining the rest of our lives. I agree that it is probably the strongest one that we will ever develop. None of us can remember the first years of our lives. The time when our attachment reaction was being built. Thus, we may underestimate its impact. But I deeply believe in change. I believe that human beings can change. I believe we can learn. I believe we can grow.

 

III

I used to have a pretty insecure attachment (sometimes anxious, sometimes ambivalent), but nowadays, believe me on this, I am doing much better. (You can take a look to my Unfinished Loves if it serves as inspiration).

Personally, spirituality is, among other things, a deeper approach to human psychology, a more evolved one. Evolved and simplified.

Buddha detected that attachment was the cause of suffering. Attachment was developed on us when we were extremely dependent on other human beings. We were completely vulnerable, and if it weren’t for our first caregiver, we wouldn’t be alive today. It’s that simple.

Thus, it is simple to understand that this relationship keeps on affecting most of us after many years and in many aspects of our life.

However, I think that we can grow. I don’t like the idea that we cannot control the outcome of our life, that who we are going to become depends on the type of one specific relationship we had.

I believe in realizations. Realization is a pretty spiritual word. Learning is progressively discovering bits of reality. Realizations are fundamental alterations to the essence of our existence.

Realizations are changes in our soul.

Secure attachment means that we can explore the world feeling safe. Unsecure attachment means that we keep on feeling unsafe and that limits the realm of things that we can experience in this life.

We all should forgive our mothers. At some point somewhere on our development, we needed our caregivers and they weren’t there. We suffer. We learned. We became insecure. The lesson: when we needed caregivers, they may not be there. We cannot trust people. Love is a limited and conditioned resource.

 

IV

Spiritually speaking, we can arrive at a different realization. The realization that love is within us and that depends on us to feel loved and secure. Thus, we will become free.

Maybe this thought sparks fear on you. It sometimes does on me.

This fear is another form of attachment. Attachment to our human nature. It is undeniable that attachment is human. However, I disagree with believing that is the most evolved form of love. Religion focuses on divinity, spirituality on humans. I like to define myself as a spiritual polyreligious person.

Certain religions make us believe that the highest form of love is god. As a spiritual person, I am still attached to the idea that the highest form of love is manifested and enacted by human beings. God is just an easy metaphor.

Letting go of our attachments will make us less human, more divine. The perils are that one of the most successful religions of our time is founded on the idea that a very spiritual person that named himself “the son of God” was eventually crucified. Christianity invites us to believe that proclaiming yourself divine will bring you suffering and persecution from society. Buddhism, on the other hand, was founded by a person that after years of conscientious and continuous introspective exploration realized the truth that attachment is the cause of suffering. Then, he developed a methodology to get rid of suffering and spend the rest of his life spreading it.

 

V

The person writing this is Carlito Fluito. I like to acknowledge my human reality while developing my divine potentiality. I am European, and Aristotle’s thought about where the virtue lies have affected me. We have to progress and collaborate as a species if we want to reach divine levels.

We can change the weather at will, an outcome that was asked by Native American people by dancing around a fire. We are already creating life, modifying it, a skill that is given to any creator god in every mythology. We have huge abilities of destruction and punishment, a power that is given to warrior gods in many mythologies. We are thinking about conquering this universe. We are envisioning ways of creating new ones. If we are not god yet, we are becoming really closer.

And still. We remain so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so human. We still remain so humans that while I am writing these words tears appear on my eyes. We remain fearing each other. We remain hiding our souls. We remain attacking each other. We remain feeling unsafe and insecure in this planet. We remain afraid of death. We remain attached to life.

But humanity is not only negative things. The lesson that we have to learn from attachment is the potentiality of feeling love, of feeling loved. Spirituality is a coping mechanism. Spirituality brings new tools of control to situations that seem infinitely uncontrollable. Detecting love as a tool, and leaving away attachment is, from my point of view, the spiritual solution that human beings need as a species at this historical moment.

So, what will we become once we strip away our attachment? Free. We will become free.

In monotheism, God created the world, the universe, but he was so attached to it, that he kept on intervening. He intervened so much that send prophets, messiahs, martyrs, saints… to keep on correcting and modifying his original creation. Most religious believers praise a God that is still behaving, feeling, and thinking like a human (cite required). I choose not to praise Gods that are like humans when I can directly venerate humans. Spirituality is a simplification, an evolved simplification. Why should I praise God, when I can praise human beings?

If we get rid of our attachment, we will become a more evolved form of spiritual beings. We may stop feeling human, and we may even fear that we will lose our capacity of love and be loved. But I don’t like to believe that. I prefer to think that leaving our attachments behind will transform us into a more evolved form of human beings. Humans that feel free, secure have the ability to love and be loved at will, independently of the behavior of another person, or the outcomes of a situation. Spirituality is the next step in our evolution as species. Detachment is a key step to take.

 

I don’t know who you are underneath since I can only speak from my experience, from who I am, and from what I have discovered on my path. The question about who you are can only be answered by you. With this text, I just tried to mention some of the things you are likely to become when you do if you are willing to try it.

I love to hear your questions and comments.

Danyabad for reading.

For you that read this far:

This is how I feel when I am free of attachment.²

---

My. tried to talk with me for a while. She asked me if I was okay, if everything was going well, and she showed interest on me when she tried to speak about my main occupation in Spain, “I am living in Brussels”. She was surprised, and then she asked me what I was doing. I answered in my funny way of “1 to 5” in level of complexity of the answer. But for her, I told her to choose “1 to 5” among my occupations there. One to four where “Ph.D. student”, “Dancer and performer”, “Yoga teacher”, and “Youtuber”. Luckily and funnily, she chose five:

— I am taking care of a dog. His name is Mortimer.

She was obviously, pretty puzzled.

— But, that is what you do in Brussels, for living?

— Well, it is one of the things I do, yes.

Indeed, I had been living in Brussels for already a year and a half as dog sitter. So, all was good. She tried to continue the conversation, asking me what were the other occupations, but I told her that it was better not to know everything at once. That she could come back later and talk more if she wanted. She was sort of annoyed by my behavior, but I was just being clear and straightforward. She could have come before to asked me who I was. I understood better the importance of inner control vs. outer control, and how I should give to people once they asked for something, not before. I mastered silence, I mastered surrender. I worked hard on my compassion which since the meditation of the previous day, I was starting to feel more clearly on my body.

You did the energizer of killing hearts with the fingers. It was my small revenge to show you that I was back on the game, full mode and ready to play. It kept on confirming my expectations the fact that even Igor, physically fit and older than me, couldn’t touch me even once. I was feeling unbeatable.

I kept on observing people during the sessions, and I found you groggy and tired. I wrote notes to many participants, to spread my thoughts on their envelopes, and I gave one to you with your own lesson: “Don’t waste energy on the sessions, save it for later”. I wanted you to be fresh for the night, just in case. I did my last laundry, and then, I package my stuff in the backpack. I had learned, and I was planning to leave. We share a moment on the bathroom, when I watched you wetting your nape. It was wonderful to be there, the two of us alone, feeling the sexual tension of the moment, and keeping myself on the distance, enjoying the pressure.

I decided to keep on focus on myself. I told And. that if people asked about me, he could say that I had gone running. Telling that to And. would mean no further questions from him, and a disclosure just when the situation became publicly dramatic.

I run up the mountain. I followed part of what we had done the previous day. I was actually looking for you, K. and Marte. I thought you had gone to the castle and I wanted to join. I kept on going up, much easier than the previous day. Barefoot, with high levels of attention and concentration, being very aware of my body, with my t-shirt on my head, keeping my thoughts together. I took an apple. I bit it. It was my jaw protector in case I fell. Also, it worked as a coping mechanism, and tension liberator each time thoughts and fears arrived at my mind about you or about our conversation of the previous day. The stones and the spines hurt, but not as much as before. I kept on running up the mountain, on following the path, because this time there was no need of extra-pain. Running I realized that pain can be a certain type of love for some people. The pain that you caused me while having sex, the pain that you had made me go through the previous day, the pain that your parents had given to you when you were a kid. I was a warrior again. I was a wild animal. I was a sapiens surviving and ready to fight. I took a shit somewhere close to the top of the hill. I cleaned my ass with the nature, just to prove myself that I was one with the environment. I took a shortcut across the hill. Climbing on my monkey style, using four extremities instead of two. I collected some glass, so there were less chances that the whole forest became ashes one day. I reached the castle. But I still wanted more.

The apple had the perfect mark of my teeth. My fears, my rage, my focus was there on that apple. My silence was on the apple. I shouted a couple of times. Cries of monkey, screams of mammal, yells of ape. Once in the castle I devise a route for climbing. I had done few climbing exercises during the day, but I looked for the real experience. I climbed up the wall, higher and higher, like a lizard. I was deeply afraid, fully conscious that a bad movement, a moment of lost concentration, or a loose stone would mean the end of the adventure. I knew I was pretty alone in the top of the hill, that there was no one around, that no one knew where I was, and that a fell from that height would mean my direct disability if not my death. But I climbed anyway, and I observed the vistas feeling my fears and thoughts in the depths of my being. I bit the apple and calmed down. More extenuating that the hiking up the hill was to be there, fighting against my fears. I understood a bit better how fearful people need to sleep so much, why they are always tired. Fear was extremely tiring. Fear is highly consuming. I lied down on the top of the wall, with my hands and feet hanging on the void. I calmed down my heart and breath. Accepted that I didn’t need to go further to prove myself anything else, and calmly descend again to the ground.

I had risked my life. Consciously and willingly. I had detached from life. I was freer, more powerful, stronger, more alive. I was Carlito Fluito. The same that had contained his tears while being beating up to extenuation by you for hiking up a mountain that he never asked to hike. That Carlito Fluito was now a beast, a warrior, a fighter, a survival. I had run up the mountain, barefoot, as you had told me; I had empty my bowels like an animal; shouted and screamed like an ape; climbed like a lizard; observed the horizon like an eagle; and confronted my fears like a human. I was a fully spiritual being. I descended running. Wanting to arrive on time to the reflection group. The word of the day came to my head, clear and translucent. “Silence”. Silence would hack the system. “What was good today? What could have been better? What did you learn? What would you apply for the future?” Silence. My silence to all of you.

The reflection group was extremely ridicule. K. left for a phone call, you started piercing the paper, and when we started reading the objectives and goals, I couldn’t help myself but laugh aloud. It was like coming back to my 6 years old class. By no means, I was going to read that bullshit. I wrote that I had been born there and now and I left the paper.

I was training my climbing skills on the hall with O. and G. when you arrived. I felt superior again. I felt strong. O. was trying the exercises that I was doing with ease. I had been working the whole day on my climbing skills, and we compared ourselves in front of you. We, males, are this type of beings that think that their bodies represent their masculine worth. I couldn’t like winning more. I couldn’t like improving myself more. I felt so strong, confident and secure that I was ready to come back to you. To play a bit and check if you were still the strong and quick minded devil that had caught me unguarded the previous day on the hike up the mountain. I bit my apple and looked at your eyes. I remained silent, smiling, enjoying the feelings of power and superiority. I had realized your relationship with pain. The puzzle had become something much more meaningful. Your games, your willing for playing, your desire of control, your sadistic way of having sex. I had caught you. You mentioned that you weren’t planning to have sex with anyone in that exchange, or at least with anyone that was present there. That meant you had O. on mind. I knew it. But you didn’t know what I had discover.

“I know what you want” I said. “Tell me”. “Not here, come on…”. I had rehearsed that dialogue on my mind while going down the mountain. We excuse G. for his presence, and we left the hall. “I feel like if I am walking my pet” I told you. I was ready to fight back. We looked into each other eyes, I kept on smiling, on playing with your distance, on biting your lips, your neck, on interiorizing the pain when you pounded down your nails on my chest, on grabbing your hair when you bit me on the arm. I got you. We were playing and then you were mine. You weren’t getting bored anymore, you were getting nervous because you were losing, you weren’t sure if you wanted to keep playing. You even broke the rules and threw my apple away. I breathed in and out. I didn’t care. My dick was hard. The same dick that couldn’t have had an erection in the mountain was ready to pierce you in revenge of the pain you have caused me. The same dick that you loved to introduced in the throat, that throat filled with mucous that weren’t able to leave your body, that throat where the sensations of annoyance and boredom manifested, that throat that someone with the minimal knowledge about chakras would identify as an energetic blockage on the Vishuddha center. You asked me if I wanted to hear your feelings. You had already mentioned that you wouldn’t have sex in the exchange, or maybe just with O.. I didn’t want to hear your feelings and how much you liked O.. That is what I feared and that is why I said that not at that moment. You felt deeply hurt for my lack of availability. Mir. and some other facilitators passed by. We moved to a more private location.

We went to the park and you changed the strategy. You were more honest, more sincere, you started to open up. You mentioned your rituals and self-injuries. You mentioned how you saved your cat. I was still in a playful way. I wasn’t sure if you kept on playing or not. I couldn’t know if you were performing another role or you were genuine. I was confused again, and I didn’t know how to act. I was defensive. You asked me for help, but help, control, power, energy, are expected to be found inside. That is my philosophy, that’s my spirituality. I am not a God or a guru giving you the answers, offering you excuses to exert external control over you. I am just a human talking to a human explaining that is all inside, we like it or not. You asked me why you were keep on playing, you told me that you wanted to stop playing, but I wasn’t sure whether I should believe or not. You had reminded me so many times about trust the previous day that I wanted to believe in your words. I tried and then realized that it was you the one that didn’t trust on me. “Am I playing with you?” “Yes.” “Do you trust me?” “Yes.” These two questions were denying each other.

I had talked to you about “The Game”, about all those guys that had envisioned a huge range of techniques of strategies to transform complete strangers into loyal girlfriends. I had told you that with you I hadn’t had the need of doing any of that, that the learning was there on the back of my mind, knowing what to say and what not to say at a certain moment, but that my relationship with you from the beginning had been genuine. That I hadn’t calculated any kiss, that I had exposed myself to be rejected repeated times, that I had looked for you, that I had left you messages of vulnerability, and that I had open up led by trust, not by compromise mechanisms. I had been restless and sleepless waiting for you to appear on my room. You kept on saying that I was playing with you, and I kept on saying that you were not trusting my words. You unlock another piece of my being, a deep and profound one.

I looked into your eyes. I was hanging from the ropes of the pyramid, you were already seated, playing with the wood. “Thank you, A.. I stop playing.” You kept on teaching me all those deep lessons, I kept on learning from you, while you complained that our encounters left you empty. The lesson is on the student, not in the teacher. You had left me extremely full and obstructed after our mountain hike. I remined you of the power of emptiness on the notes of the envelope, you My Sherpa. You seemed never satisfied, never at peace. Nothing was enough for you. On the other hand, I felt like I was continuously learning, continuously growing, expanding, transforming, improving the previous versions of myself. You were there saying that it wasn’t about me that it was about you, that you didn’t even know if you wanted to stop playing or not. As a psychologist, I learned that I cannot convince a person of anything if they don’t want to be convinced about it. I tried a bit of hypnotherapy, but you reject it automatically as well. I didn’t know what to do with you. You didn’t show any signs of cooperation, and I was already assuming that I had learned all the lessons I had to learn from that exchange. I was getting familiar with the idea of leaving the place walking during the next morning.

You told me that I wasn’t cooperating, but I was doing my best, and if my best wasn’t enough, then my best was ready to leave you and leave that place. I was feeling deeply at peace, deeply powerful, deeply complete and finished. I told you again that we could stop playing all together and you kept on repeating that it wasn’t about me. “It is not about you, Carlos.” “I know, but we can start with me.” But you didn’t understand. I didn’t understand. You chew those sticks of wood, that then you buried. You were embodying a regression to a previous version of your self. You were enacting a kid A. that was learning about love. The following night you confessed that you learn love from K., and two days later, I told you my believe about you that you think that the love you give is not “right” or “correct”.

Anyways, you had repeated me many times that you wanted to come back to the hostel. So, we did. We separate again.

I found Mir. and we continued with our previous conversation. The first thing I asked her was that in case I would leave, I wanted to leave walking. That was all, no cars, no confusions, no messages, no calls, no warnings, no anything. She said that no one had threatened me with expelling me out. She said I was spreading fake news. I didn’t want to argue. It wasn’t time for bullshit. I tried once more, with all my peace, all my inner power and control. I tried once more with all my non-violent communication. I tried to let her see what had happened along those days, how the dynamics of the group and myself had changed, how people had left and abandon the project, how they had gotten disengaged, how I had quitted, how I had learned my lesson. I tried to see if she had learned hers. She hadn’t. She told me that I had changed a lot from the first days, and I took that as a proof of my growth. She couldn’t receive my feedback, she kept on excusing herself about the benefits of going to the mountains, of being more flexible with the free time, of being less attached to their project. “Being honest and direct, I think that your fears are limiting your growth.”

She asked me who I was and what did I want. I told her that I had grown a lot, enjoyed the experience a lot and that I was ready to depart at peace. I told her that I enjoyed promoting other people’s growth and that the way to promote their growth the most was to withdraw myself from the situation. I fully believed what I was saying. We agreed that in case of leaving, I could leave walking. We agreed that I hadn’t completely decided what to do, and that I would see next morning. I had completely realized that the organizers hadn’t learned their lesson yet. I went to the room, share my thoughts with the roommates. Went to the kitchen and eat some raw vegetables and fruits.

Then, looked for you in the room. I was on fire, I still had energy for more. I didn’t want to play with you, but just to figure it out when was going to be our last interaction and what was the healthiest level of depth and connection before our separation. I found you on the bed. You were distant. I was pure love and compassion. Mar. kept on complaining, but you protected me. You wanted me there and I stayed there. I lied next to you, offered you my love and support, and at some point, breathing in and out, I opened my soul to the world. I felt the surrender in the depths of my existence, I felt extreme sensations of bliss and peace. I felt evaporating myself on the cosmos. I was so infinitely thankful and recharged.

Mar. came back, and she kicked me out. I was just experimenting compassion for her. There were no side feelings, just a recognition of her pain and sorrows. I thank her and leave you. I spend the rest of the evening saying goodbye to the people that had made an impact on my experience there. I said thank you to B., to Maf., to An., to Lo., to Ra., to all of those that wanted to listen to me. I was calm and firm. Expressing my decision to everyone. “The moment has arrived. I am leaving” (living?). There was no pain, no resentment, no regret. I was just assuming my lesson. I was surrendering to what life and the universe were giving to me. I didn’t want to think much about how to get to Strasbourg, or what to do there for a couple of days. I was living the present moment, being there, enjoying my farewells with all of them. Some tried to convince me. “It is only two days more” But it didn’t matter, the same way I would have fought to the last of my breaths when I was a warrior, I would have surrendered in the last of my seconds when I was a surrender. It wasn’t about the timing; it was about the decision.

I found you with my roommates outside. I had already talked with O. in the kitchen about you and him. He couldn’t have stated me clearly that he had kissed you, whether he liked you or not, whether he had intentions towards you or not. I repeated that I knew, that I had talked with you and that it was okay. I just wanted to know, but he didn’t speak. It didn’t matter much. Whatever you would do when I left wouldn’t be part of my story, of my existence. I laugh with my roommates, we cheered with our glasses of different liquids, and I express my gratitude as I had done with the rest. “None of this wouldn’t have been possible without you”. I really meant it. In the same way that I meant leaving. I had hung the clothes a bit too late and it would take time to dry, but that would be the indicator of my departure. If people wanted me to stay, they could pour water over my clothes.

My roommates showed their loyalty and respect by leaving me alone with you for our last night. I wasn’t sure whether you were going to stay or not. G. took a bit longer in leaving. He kept on dreaming about kissing me again, he kept on focusing on the callings of his gonads. But he understood the situation and left. We lied down and talk. I fell asleep a couple of times and dreamed about you. I had that dream where you were escaping from some beasts, maybe those dogs of your story, the ones you have talked with. In the dream, I realized that I couldn’t offer you anything else than my silent and stoic protection. I didn’t have to lift you up, or to fight your beast for you. I could just hold the beast while you get time to raise up yourself. I was there to protect you. I understood that you weren’t seeking for love, for support, for help. Just protection. To feel secure.

My signals of affection, silence and distance, opened you up little by little, and we let the passion evolved. “Hello again, A.”. You asked me to be gentler with you and you behaved more gently with me. We made love. I went to the room for some condoms, water and to wash my mouth because, green pepper smell like cabbage, you know. Then, there on the tatami and with a couple of blankets we had sex. K. interrupted us for a bit when she arrived in the car of her new boyfriend, which it also made me realized all the things that were going on in front of me and I hadn’t been able to see, like K.’s calls and talks on the phone.

She left us and we continue our love making. I had you against the wall, I had you below me, I had you above me. I wanted to give you pleasure, lots of pleasure. At some point, I realized that I was making love with the universe. I was seeing the starts while holding your head and penetrating you. The devil that the previous day had traded for my soul was now giving me hers. I had already surrendered my soul to the world before on the bed. I had said goodbye to everyone. There was no soul to take. I was experiencing that blissful Taoist emptiness while practicing non-ejaculatory sex with you and the universe at once.

You came and, almost automatically, switched back to selfish, playing mode. But I wasn’t playing. It was too late for that. As I had told you, for me games were over, it was all real, all genuine. I had told you that you had been my most truthful relationship. The most genuine, the sincerest. In a Fake News exchange speaking about truthful relationships and wearing my Truth is non-violent t-shirt, the situation became even more meaningful. I had asked you where you want me to come, and I was saving it for you, for the right moment, as a reward of your collaboration, of our relationship, or your teachings. But surprisingly, your orgasms transformed you back to that old A. focused on herself and her games. It wasn’t anymore the A. I had said hello when we had started kissing passionately. But, you know, I couldn’t care less. I had done what I had to do, and life kept on developing as it had to. You talked in dreams about the piece you wanted to do with your theater classmates and how you had decided who was which animal on your imagined performance.

You were sexually satisfied, and I had the universe above represented on the hundreds of the starts that the mountain was gifting me. All the energy of my sperm was still running through my system. I would use it tomorrow, no problem at all. It felt as if I had broken the wheel of reincarnation. As if I had reached Nirvana and was free of all suffering in the future. We slept together outside, under the blankets, naked, our bodies one next to each other. I would think about leaving the exchange once more next morning, now that I had reconnected with you, reconnected with me, and reconnected with life. I felt at peace, I felt tired, I felt your body, I felt the fresh air of the night, and the endless sky filled with stars. I fell asleep. Deeply asleep.

1.8 Enjoying the exchange (DAY 8 – 2019-08-02)

I woke up several times by the sunrise. I woke up also by K.’s yoga which gave me a wonderful view of her ass, considered as a masterpiece by the most rigorous critics, and the mountain on the background. You were sleeping next to me. I fell asleep again and then I dreamed that I ejaculated on your mouth as you have asked me the previous night. I woke up confirming what I suspected. My swimming pants were filled of semen. I left you and went straight to the shower. Clean up myself, and without anything to dry, crossed the gym wetting the wood that I had tried to protect. The same wood that I had checked the first day. Lessons stuck on my back. I told you that you had missed a good one and got ready to start the day.

I changed myself on the room and went into the kitchen to get an apple. M. T. found me and pushed me on the chest. Just another proof of how things were getting awry. But I couldn’t care less. I had slept with you, said goodbye to everyone, and release a meaningful part of my energy few minutes ago. I looked at her with compassion, thinking how dangerous can be someone that takes apples from the kitchen for self-consumption. It made the rest of the day much funnier, since I had to use my climbing skills around the building to get the food I needed and deserved.

I did the energizer of cooperating and trusting, of standing into each other on groups. People laugh, I enjoyed watching. I realized that I can enjoyed my experience there by being detached, by being a spectator of the show that life was offering me. For the activity of the videos, people made groups and I choose mine when I wanted, based on the people, the venue, and the location where I could place myself to work on my laptop. Eventually, I worked with An. in a text that I tried not to over-direct and control. However, I wanted things done, so I rushed a bit. An. had been lovely the previous day, while we were saying goodbye and she was high. We had hugged and smiled to each other so much that was difficult to express another thing than love to her.

We did the text, and I prioritized my needs. I went around the rooms, talking and enjoying myself with people. I was thinking about taking a nap, but it was almost lunch time. I talked with Lu., Li., and La.. I got to know them a bit better. I told them that I had found my role and place in the project, that I was enjoying watching the performance, that I had become a spectator, free of outcome, and fully detached of the result. I was free. I was myself again, training my body skills, doing climbing exercises, balance, strength and stretch development.

Everything was getting into its place again.

At lunch, we ate together. You fed me from your food, directly with your hands. I knew we both were dirty animals; we were just there enacting it for everyone. We bit and scratch each other for a while, talk about our lives and our relationship, show affection from time to time. I felt secure and at peace, I was enjoying myself and the moment a lot. After a while, I went inside and kept on observing and admiring. I found O. talking with Ab. in Arabic and I asked them to continue for me while I finished all the vegetables that were left. I even drunk beer when you appeared, and played a bit to social games with you, O. and Irene. I was there for myself.

After the session started, I decided to keep on focusing on me. I went to sleep and took a siesta. A siesta that felt amazingly good.

People were presenting their videos when I woke up. I could see mine and be admired at yours. I had the intuition that you had been the main brain behind it. It looked great. Somehow there was no reflection group. Neither I needed it.

Dinner arrived, and we found each other outside under the blankets again, in our spot next to the stairs. Mar. arrived, because it wasn’t enough for her to kick me out of my room, she was feeling to attacked by me getting your attention so often.

Then you confronted us, the positive and the negative forces, one against each other. I didn’t feel like fighting or anything similar, but you kept on pushing us. She proved herself deeply intelligent and deeply hurt, with a dark past that was affecting a promising future. K. joined us, and you proposed us to smoke. I told you to take care of me, but you partly refused the responsibility. You mentioned that, in a similar way as in the restaurant, you couldn’t be the babysitter. That is why I had to protect myself from the world.

I didn’t smoke much, and I had already learned a lot about how to pacify myself. However, it happened what I feared. Once I remain silent, people keep on finding excuses to be annoyed by my existence. People keep on feeling uncomfortable by the fact that another human being is enjoying life so much to realms and to the extent that are unthinkable for them. In parties, people keep on asking which drugs I have taken, and I answer “water and air” admiring their disbelief. Mar. and you complained about my breath, about my most fundamental and unreducible behavior. If people complain about my way of breathing means that my existence is making them feel uncomfortable. But I was willing to take the feedback, to keep on breathing. Mar. mentioned a verse of the Tao and compared my breath with the one of a beast, and reminded me that the purest beings, newborns, breath unnoticeably. I took note.

Later on, I was so focused on myself, on my breathing, on my silence, and on my non-interruption and intervention on life and the moment, that I fully missed the fact that you wanted to lie down under the blankets, and that I had all the pillow for myself. Maybe it was a bit overacted, but at that point, it felt like the perfect lesson at the perfect timing. You and K. were questioning my altruism and kindness and I got revealed myself by showing my selfishness in holding the pillow only for myself. I didn’t know if the whole thing was going to end up in a ménage-a-trois or not. I didn’t care much. I had so much trust on myself and life that whatever the outcome I would be happy. If it weren’t for you two that night, it would be with someone else on the future. No anxiety, no trying, no effort. Just surrender and let things happened.

We gave some feedback to each other. K. mentioned that I had to speak my mind more often, which was in direct opposition to my attempts of remaining silent. I told to Mar. to help the world on a daily basis, to be more helpful, more selfless, more altruist. You said nothing.

K. left. Me and Mar. came back to our performance for you, but the feeling of being your actor, your puppet was too hierarchical for me. I knew your future studies as a director and I gave you a piece of it, but I wasn’t willing to give you the whole cake for free. So, I included you in the performance. After a while Mar. left, and you told me that you were coming back. I could have waited for you, but I wanted to play, I wanted to climb. I had already eaten some tomatoes from the plant, and I was thinking about challenging and discovering new ways around the building. I climbed the wall and observed the people on the gym through the window. K. was intelligent like a dolphin. You were extinct like a lynch, and I was astute like a fox. I went to your room through the window, then open the right windows of the gym for later taking the needed resources, leaving the right things on the right places. But somehow, I found you on the gym, and I found the music there, and I stayed for training and dancing.

People was chilling around and I had lots of things to train and improve. You were moving from one place to another. I didn’t know what where your plans, so I made mines. You played songs that I didn’t like, but I didn’t say anything. I had full trust on you. People joined and danced. An., Maf., In., the Turkish drunken and clumsy one. I was just trying to keep the dance floor as sacred as possible, clean and without interfering objects or liquids, but people are careless, and they like to drink and spill over. Well, what can I do, maybe chaos is what they want? I want chaos within the order, I like sex pure, and I drink water from other people’s mouths. I started having my paranoid thoughts about end up eaten by a bunch of cannibal girls that had fallen in love with my flesh, very much inspired by Suskind. I kept on dancing, unsure of what was my role on that whole thing. I thought that you had every step planned, every movement predicted. You were doing your thing and I just had to let you do. That is what I did, I danced for myself, I danced with the girls. I could have kissed some of them, but I didn’t know about how you would take it, so I refused to do it. I didn’t know where all was going.

At some point the rest of the people entered the room. They were noisy, they weren’t dancing, they were complaining about the music. They were annoying me, but I was focused on myself, dancing and improving my moves. You remained on a side, silent and calm. Receiving some love you didn’t believe on. You went to sleep at some point, almost without saying good night. I climbed a couple of times to your room, to talk with K., to be kicked out by Mar., and to check whether you were there at all or not. I was giving you the so demanded distance, so I even didn’t try to go to your bed. I wanted to sleep with you outside, but I assumed that those weren’t your plans.

I went out and found In. (Portugal). I had told her the day before to go and look for Canberk. She had done it with ambiguous results to my understanding. I offered her the possibility of talking about her emotions. We went outside to the stars. She talked for a while. I fell sleep. She left me. I thank the universe again the opportunity that had given me of being alive and fell asleep deeply this time, at peace, and feeling grateful and connected.

1.9 Getting ready to say goodbye (DAY 9 – 2019-08-03)

I woke up and show an ant downside up. I empathized with its suffering and with a gentle blow I put it back to its normal position. First good thing of the day done. It was the last day.

The moment had arrived. I had survived, but I was still on time for leaving. People kept on asking me why I hadn’t leave, and I came up with the joke of “I am living” as a misunderstanding and to avoid the Fake News terminology all around our heads. Even M. T. interpellated me contemptuously saying that if I wasn’t leaving.

People were doing the youth pass and for me that was the greatest lie to myself that I could came up with. How to put in their words my lessons, how to reduce myself to their sentences, to their wishes. I accepted to do it by filling the shortest sentence in each category. Problem solved. Obviously, I wasn’t going to take seriously anything of what was left.

I spend the morning climbing around, observing people, playing with them and with my body. During the evaluation, I had a really clear thing on mind. I wouldn’t give them the information that had been rejected before. I had mastered silence, and if anyone wanted more information, they could come to me. Obviously, I had grown, I had connected, I had learned, and I had done all those things written in the papers scattered on the floor. But it didn’t matter. It mattered my inner transformation. My surrender, my silence, my compassion, my empathy, my selflessness, my detachment from life. All those things that none of the organizers were responsible for. I had repeated that “None of that would have been possible without you (all”). But it was too much to give them the credit of my change. The credit was mine, for learning, for being always open to the teaching. Obviously, without you, A., it wouldn’t have been possible at all, but this you know it already.

And., Ma. and many others expressed their complaints. Some remained silent, like Mar., who was the perfect negativist. When the evaluation was over, I approached Ma. and shared the experience of my first project in France. She reconsidered hers. I told her that learning depends on us, and we are responsible of our existence in this planet. We are what we get. We get what we give.

Lunch time and I proved my super climbing skills by bringing the fajita through the window. We all eat together, and you were more affectionate than normal. You almost even texted me for a hug. People were cleaning, or sort of, and we were just avoiding any type of collaboration and responsibility. Fair enough.

Some people left to the castle and you and I chose each other. We kiss, we let passion grow, and we start having sex on K.’s bed. Since it was unprotected sex on your room, we agreed that it was smarter to go somewhere else. I showered all the dirt from the day and the climbing, while you were thinking about, I don’t know what. You kept on telling me from time to time to annoy you. You wanted an excuse to hate me, but I wasn’t giving you any, even when I was trying.

We went to the room, have a bit of sex, and then talk about who we were and where we were going. The two models of reality were confronted: my supposedly superficial positive attitude towards life and its challenges; and your deeply and thoughtful approach with constant negative and torturing connotations. You told me about some episodes of your past, some of your self-injuries, the psychopath that you wished to killed you and I reminded you about my intentions of getting a life reminder about the suffering of human beings that want to end their existence at some point of their lives.

People came back. I tried to speak with M. T. for a last time, just to be at peace completely, to close the circle. M. T. was the original cause for me to had been there. She had invited me, and because of her, all those things had happened. I tried but she behaved like a kid. She talked ironically, condescending, avoiding my questions, avoiding seriousness, teasing me… I didn’t know what to do. I was trying to behave like a serious adult, and I found that surrealist conversation that was leading us nowhere. I accepted that there was no fruitful outcome for our conversation, and I thank her for all she had done. M. T. , like you, thought that I was a manipulator. Sad for you and for me to know that whenever I consciously try to manipulate things it merely doesn’t work. She said that I had gone there to find people for my sect, that that was what I wanted, the reason why I was there. I shared my experience and what I had learned and changed. I told her that I enjoyed giving voice to people, developing independent and functional individuals, observing their improvement and growth, helping and facilitating their own masteries. She didn’t believe a word of what I say. For her, and I fear that for some others, I had gone there to take control and power over everything, to manipulate everyone, to put some people against others, and to destroy and boycott the whole exchange. Well, those were her beliefs. I pity her, practice my compassion and let her go.

I came back to the hostel and talked with the participants, offering them activities to give feedback to each other, like the game of guessing adjectives we had played before. I explained my encounter with M. T. and Mir. to some that were still willing to listen and told them what I had been called. Those that knew me a bit better laugh at it and supported me. For a second, I even questioned myself whether I was there to make my sect or not… Receiving their blind support and trust was a bit weird, but I had to get familiar with it.

I talked with A. B. during the dinner. I tried to listen to her feedback. She told me that she liked a lot the Carlos of the beginning and that she didn’t understand my transformation. Well, for me was extremely obvious, and I don’t think she liked that much that Carlos that had written on a piece of paper “I want A. B. to take notes during our meetings”. Anyway, I took the feedback with a healthy dose of skepticism. For me, she was still taking things too personal, still struggling with her insomnia, still missing the main point of the situation. I remember Mir. comment about how I had changed so much in so little time that she wasn’t able to recognize me. I took that as a real and solid compliment. I felt compassionate for her and joined the secret friend revelation.

I teased you once more on the chair by giving you my back. “It would be very embarrassing if I don’t recognize this body.” Maybe we could have touched each other more often. Maybe people could have been more tolerant with public signs of affection. Anyway, I had fun. The youth pass awards were another mocking performance for me.

My mind was already on the next day, on Strasbourg, on my freedom, on spending the day together, far from all that theater that I hadn’t fully understood, all that charade that I had taken so much from. I enjoyed some sangria; I was there for some pictures. I found you on the park. I took my position on the hall and kept on enjoying the show. I didn’t know what was going to happen between you and me, but I was okay with it. The anxiety of the past was completely gone. I obviously wanted to sleep with you, but who knew what the future had prepared. I made fun of Cs. and her drunkenness and laugh a bit at myself feeling like the king of the place. I disappeared for a while. You disappeared for a while. And at some point, you said you were going to sleep. I caught you on the corridor and I convinced you to sleep together. No sex, you said. I didn’t care. We went to the room. We hug. You asked for distance. We kissed. You asked for distance. I was also tired. We fell asleep.

1.10 We got the love (DAY 10 – 2019-08-04)

The moment of saying goodbye. You were kinda horny in the morning, and I am always up to have some sex. You kept on saying that you wanted to be annoyed with me. You kept on playing with my distance. You kept on complaining about me while rubbing my dick. I just let you do. I had surrender and accepted life completely.

We stayed on bed as long as possible, saying goodbye thought the window. You asked me if we were a good couple. I told you that we could become one after a month or two of adapting to each other. Interruptions of K., Mar., E., O. People coming and passing. People leaving in their cars, and you and me completely unknown of the time we were supposed to leave. Enjoying our last moments together on the bed. You were probably thinking, I was surely feeling. I enjoyed giving and receiving affection. I tried to play but you didn’t like it. Who knows, maybe you were liking it too much.

After a lot of snoozes, the moment arrived. You left and I got ready in less than five minutes. I collected all the fruits I could before leaving, and we jumped to the same car. In other projects I was really excited and emotional the last day, the day of the departure. In that one, I was at peace, knowing that I had transformed, that I had grown, that I was extraordinary. That I had made friends, that I had got to know you, that my life was different, and my love relationships had changed forever. I had already said goodbye two days ago, so I didn’t feel any regret or rush for not saying goodbye to anyone that morning. I talked with the girl driving the car to let you space for thinking and feeling whatever was going on in your head. I tried not to flirt much with her, at least consciously. There was no point on that.

We arrived at the train station and bought the tickets. I helped Ir. and Ra. I wanted to spend the day with you in Strasbourg. That was my plan. Irene gave me feedback and told me that things could have been different. I told her that things had been simply as they were supposed to be. I felt tons of compassion for Mar. that was crying. I felt lots of love for all of you that were there with me.

We arrived at Strasbourg, said goodbye to Ir. and E., and walked to the center. I was coming back to reality very slowly and gently. I was practicing all the things I have learnt: my surrender, silence, compassion, enjoyment of what life was giving me. I had that feeling of being the male of the tribe walking around a jungle with my three women.

You asked for mojito and since I had the money, I was feeling altruist, and it would increase the enjoyment of the whole group, I agreed to buy mojito. Later on, we kept on walking and looking for a park to chill. We stopped by at a McDonalds where we almost left Mar. for her endless negativity. The walk was long, and the sun was high. Mar. wasn’t helping and K., you and I weren’t walking without much talking. We teased a bit more Mar., and eventually we arrived at the park. We bought some ice-cream, blueberry and blackberry, great flavor choices by the way. We found a grass, we lied down, we took some pictures, we rest for some time. We talked a bit, and we gave affection to each other. For me it was the perfect thing to do. Share some food, share some time, share some love. I was still amazed of Mar. and her insecurities at asking us for food. I was pitying her inside so deeply. We had some intimate moments, and I reminded you about my reminder. You started building that toroid of hair to put in my necklace. You had told me the day before that you were not a piece of collection and I answered that you already were. Unfinished loves is a book that will never be finished. Humanity should assume this as early as possible.

I still look at your hair with proud and amusement. It is so significative for me. To have a part of your being hanging so close to my heart. You, that have cured my insecurities; you, that have gone to the depths of my mind, that have played with my archetypes, that have taught me surrender, compassion, silence, distance, trust… You, that have shown me that feeling secure depends on me. Some of your bites and scratches are already disappearing. My body is healing. The scars are fading out. However, I have your hair there, waiting for me. The fact that you included pubic hair make the present even more meaningful and enjoyable for me.

As a minimalist, I didn’t have anything spare and meaningful to give you. The only thing that I could think about was the two post-it stuck together. I had taken them as a personal reminder of my attempt of democracy, as a personal lesson of having find my voice in the silence. The colors have mixed and merged, and it looked pretty bad and worn out. The more meaningful, since justice and fairness is a long battle that can worn out the best of the warriors. Besides, nothing is white or black, or red or pink in this case. The mix was the representation of the incredible complexities of life. I gave it to you. You disdain it. Then, burn it in front of me. Well, I tried not to over-react. I swallowed my metaphors giving you the possibility of doing whatever you wanted with my present. I surrendered once more to the experience. We all watched it burn. You took the ashes and put them on my forehead and on my cheekbones. Similarly, as you had done in the mountain with the dust, and then in the road with the blackberries. A Shiva warrior, with my third eye opened, ready to destruct the world once again to make it reborn.

You were horny, you wanted to have sex, and I was always up for some fun on the bushes. It was a bad location. K. and Mar. gave us an hour of intimacy that we spend looking at animals on cages, cleaning up ourselves on the toilets of the bowling bar, and making jokes about teenagers. You shared a bit more of your past, your relationship with your father, and your origins as a suffering teenager. I kept on proposing spots of consuming our love once more. K. and Mar. were waiting for us. We met. We went towards the couchsurfer house. I fixed your backpack. It was funny to transform you into a modern lady, you, that I had seen you photographing dead insects, and chewing sticks from the ground. You that were for me as much of an animal as I consider myself.

We both surrender to the path. We both walked quite silently, being led by K.. We arrived nowhere and there we also find each other. We kissed, we record our love and affection. There was no couchsurfer, no keys, no house. I didn’t look for the keys. I was tired, and I didn’t care much about what was going on or what was going to happened.

I supported K. who was probably the most stressed one at the moment. We went to the McDonalds before heading to the center. I started losing my patience with Mar. when she said that she was hungry. I mean, there are moments and moment. It wasn’t me the one that was homeless at 10pm in an unknown city. It wasn’t me the one that couldn’t stand a night outside. It wasn’t me the one whose gender is considered as weak and vulnerable. And still, her sight was so short that she couldn’t see beyond her stomach. K. talked with El., we headed to the center, where there were the people, as in the Stephen King’s novel: The running man.

We took the tram. Love each other a bit more there. Eventually, arriving to the lights show of the cathedral. We ate some food before it started, and then hug each other. I felt so good, so deeply rewarded, so complete, so fulfilled. I was travelling next to a wonderful soul, an incredibly beautiful Russian-Estonian girl that was intelligent, funny, artistic, sensitive, emotionally mature, resourceful, spontaneous, atypical and unconventional, extraordinary… I was enjoyed a performance next to someone I could share my life with. It felt like achieving a life goal. It didn’t matter whether it was going to last for 15 minutes or 15 years. It was real, it was happening, and no one could take me the feeling away. I kissed you, I hugged you, I loved you, I enjoyed the showed, but infinitely more, I enjoyed the moment with you.

The show finished. I shared my thoughts and feelings with you. We lied together on the net. We shared our breaths, nose to nose, and mouth to mouth. We saw our souls on each other eyes. You told me that you felt safe with me. I told you that that was probably the biggest compliment you could ever give me. The compliment about ruling the world together had felt amazing, but that one meant a transformation on your being. There was no more distance, no more attempts of getting annoyed. You had accepted that I was there for you, that I was there to protect you, that I had surrendered to you. That I was independent to let you go at any moment, and at the same time I could spend my life with yours. I felt our love maturing at the speed of light.

Mar. appeared. But the rules had changed. I wasn’t any more on the hostel, or on your room. I was on the street, I was fee, and I was planning to give you tons of public affection there and wherever we were. Somehow Mar. disappeared as well. I hugged you while the next show was going on. I just wanted to rest next to you, that was all I wanted, all I had looked for since our walk up the mountain. Finally, I could have it. That was my prize, my reward. I had fought so much, suffered so much, enduring so much pain, so much rejection, so much lack of trust, so many games, so many plays… I had been called manipulator, that I wanted to confront people and to put some against others. I had received tons of shit just for trying to improve everyone’s lives. Somehow you had always been there next to me, making my existence easy sometimes, and hard and challenging other times, but always caring directly or indirectly for me. There on the net, I had your love, support, trust for another last time. I surrender to you, I gave you my being, and you hold it and cared for it.

I woke up. I kissed you. I hugged you. I shared my feelings with you. You shared yours with me. We fell in love to each other in a healthy way, knowing that we were going to separate in less than an hour. I told you that your love was excellent and that the quality of what you were doing for the world was fantastic. The clock ticked and we had to move fast. I carried your bag, and we arrived on time to the bus stop just for sharing our last feelings.

I kissed you. You kissed me. We kissed each other. I loved you. You loved me. We loved each other. It was the end of the journey, the end of the adventure, the end of the trip, the end of the story, and it was a fucking happy ending. I was so happy. I was so exhilaratingly happy for having meeting you. I had already confessed that for someone like you the horny asshole that I was could turn into a monogamic male. You had shown me that you had all I was looking for in a partner and probably many things more that I hadn’t discovered yet. You had made me grow so much, and we had share so much our intimacy, that fucking yes, I loved you. You had broken my wheel of reincarnation. I envisioned us creating together, travelling together, growing together, living together, evolving together. I envisioned us ruling the world together. We were separating for an unknown period of time and still there wasn’t the minimum glimpse of sadness or negative emotion. I had surrender to life, I would let life developed and see if I could find a moment to facilitate our future encounter. I kept on smiling, on holding your hair as I had done in the mountain, on admiring the beauty of your eyes and your smile. On knowing that I was letting your leave with the highest joy and peace on my heart. I thank the universe a dozen of times for having meeting you, for having brought our lives together, for letting me know that you existed. I kissed you, hugged you. You kissed me, hugged me. It felt so intense. We hugged each other with tons of intensity, as I hadn’t done since years. But only with joy and hope from my side. No pain, no suffering. That was love. That was unattached loved. That was mature and healthy love. I loved you so much, I felt myself growing and expanding with each breath. I kept on giving you my whole self, my whole being. I enjoyed the goodbye as I had never done. I walked towards the bus looking at you. Before getting up our gazes crossed for a last time.

I entered the bus, looked for a place to sleep. Found it, lie down thanking the size of my body, and collapse almost completely until arriving to Brussels. The trip was over.

1.11 Day… (DAY 11 – 2019-08-05)

I spend the day doing the garden, sleeping and procrastinating my duties. I let my body recover from such a journey and evolution.

1.12 …after… (DAY 12 – 2019-08-06)

I postpone my life, my duties and start writing.

1.13 …day (DAY 13 – 2019-08-07)

After two days of almost uninterrupted writing, I am here. I have some notes to add, but I think that for the moment, I will leave the text as it is. 40 pages of learning and lessons written in 2 days and experienced in 10.

1.14 Reviewing (Day 14 – 2019-08-11)

It has been a week, and it seems an eternity. It seems already so far away and so alien to me. I have spent most of my day reviewing and correcting the text in this bus that is taking me to Vienna, to the next episode of my life. Living is weird, writing is weird, evolving and growing is weird. I am here now, still thanking you for all the things you have done. I hope you have enjoyed reading my experience, and I will be very happy to receive and read yours.

Infinite thanks A. for having become part of my life.

Infinite love and protection to you,

Carlito Fluito

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1. A good timed withdrawal is a victory.↩

2. Click on the image to see the video.↩