I woke up a week ago with my tongue paralyzed and twisted. After having spent a wonderful weekend in the time of things. Respecting the gentleness of my internal movement. Re-learning how to dance I woke up twisted.

In seeing my tongue the doctors called my neurologist and so it was decided that I should be kept in hospital.

And so exams that once terrified starting from blood tests, to MRI’s to lumbar puncture had to be repeated now again 5 years later. I feared them not, or at least not too much.

From the day I came here my cousins came to stay with me, then my brother and Gustavo. And when I pointed to them I was used to being alone and that they could go my cousin offered that I no longer needed to know that. It relieved me from the guts, from the place where makes me keep crossing more and more borders. It felt like I could finally relax.

My parents on hearing about it 2 days later flied back to brazil from their trip. My aunts, and godfather came several days. To caress me, to massage me, to let me sleep. My 88 year old grandmother stronger than all of us stood there with me in hospital calling the 75 year japanese lady to give massages, and reiki.

And so I finally came home last night. I came to my room. I urged the neurologist to let me come home. I needed  to be home..

I dont know what I expected of being home. Maybe some kind of rescue, some kind of relieve,,,I still can not speak, I still have a massive allergic reaction, I am still shedding skin, and with it came a profound and total sadness.  A desire to cry the tears that have been floating inside of me for years on end. So deep and so profound is my sadness that I felt there was not words to write, nor to be spoken.

I watch my skin shed hoping that with the new skin comes a new life. I watch it shed and I attempt a braver attempt to swallowing food as it has been a week I have not eaten. It has been a week that all I felt was poisoned.

But I start to see the glimpses of joy. All the great people I have around me. I feel thankful for them. Even though I can t speak much now. Even though I still feel a sob that feels just as old as the vedic text like once I felt in India more than a year ago.

The cleaning lady in hospital called me little flower. Everyday she came in the morning telling me that all storms always led to to a beautiful day.

I cant wait for the beautiful day to come. I cant wait to be able to once again speak, and sing.  I cant wait to climb and dance. I guess this is already a lot.