How to get out of inner prison?

Today a strong thing happened to me. I went to the organic fair with André and Josélia. As I looked at the ingredients and I explained that I did not know what it was for Joselia, a lady came to talk to me loudly.

“If you don’t recognize these vegetables why are you coming to this fair?”

She said it in a strong way. And I answered delicately.

“I told her that I’ve had 2 comas. I had lost many areas of my brain. If I ever knew, I don’t know anymore. ”

She said strongly.

“You put yourself in prison.”

I was angry. And I started to say:

“You do not understand. In the second coma, I would not open eyes, talk, walk, I was not present. I have brain failures, and you don’t understand. ”

And she strongly say:

“See how you hold yourself. And you likes it. ”

I was angry, and André and Joselia left me to go shopping at the fair, I stay and this lady tells me.

” I’ll teach you something.”

She held my clothes by the back. And she said

: “Julieta, walk! “

I explained that I couldn’t. She tells me.

“You need to learn to meditate and let go of the past”

I explain that I’ve done vipassana, gone go to India, met the Dalai Lama, and done meditation, etc.

And she still strongly told me,

“Do you see you’re still getting stuck in the past ???”

I confess I got mad. And I said calmly but feeling angry,

“You don’t understand me.”

And she said “I am a neurologist and I am 80 years old.”

” What’s your name?”

” What is the difference? I hope one day you will learn not to imprison yourself !!

I got out angry in silence. I left and went to Joselia and André. It took hours for me to understand and be grateful.

The other week another doctor I had mat at the fair taught me how to do something different.

It should be something what I had never done before, that would activate my brain. It was delicate and wonderful.

Today it was so hard, it took hours for me to understand and think that the 80-year-old lady, who gives me her time to make me be present.

I didn’t even say thank you, I ran out and just writing I’m grateful. Why is it so hard to let go of the past and be present? I hope one day we will be able to break free from ourselves.

Love Jules

Lessons of life

It moves me when I read what I had written in the past. Which is still present.

Me telling about Lama Lobsang who became my friend. He was teaching Buddhism in the world. He was from Tibet, moved to India and I met him in London when he was living there and me also. I did not meet him even to learn Buddhism. It was to bring a gift from a new friend I had met in India.

As I was reading now it makes me remember so well.

He became a friend. He used to come to my house. The first time I was invited to go to his house. It was on a hard day. I was very lost, not knowing whether my brain was sick and studying something that led me further and further away from my personal searches. That day Lama Lobsang called me. I felt so lost, and he invited me out of the blue for the first time ever to go to his house. I decided to go, though my whole body did not feel like going. I did not feel like talking about Buddhist theory that day. When I got to his house I went in, and for the first time ever I said something very personal. “Lama Lobsang, I feel so lost. Parts of me search in Buddhism, others in cognition. I am not sure whether I am really sick. I am just so lost.” He did not reply, he just invited me to go to the kitchen. He started to cook something Tibetan made of water and flour. I just sat watching him. We barely spoke. He cooked something like a noodle soup. I forgot my sadness while I watched and completely forgot about it all when I ate it, and by the time we went to the living room I was so relaxed that I felt I was about to fall asleep. Lama Lobsang suddenly said,

“Julieta, you should not feel bad. You are quite blessed. You are beautiful, intelligent, you have a very good life.” “Lama, I don’t know whether my brain is destroying itself or not.” “Julieta, learn this: your enemies are your best friends.” I enquired whether it was in the sense of impermanence and he agreed, but also said, “Your enemies, or any adversities you experience, are the only true things that allow you to practice compassion and patience. Only when you practice compassion towards your manifested enemy will you understand your ‘enemies’ are but a reflection of your internal enemies. They go with you wherever you go. So when you encounter a manifested enemy you have a real chance to practice compassion, and understand that the real enemy comes from within. That is the hardest thing to do, to be compassionate to yourself. And only when you can feel compassion to yourself you can start to be free from suffering.”

As I read this today here in South Africa. I can even remember the place, the food, the details. Just like I know with 2 comas, researches all over the world , we do not know anything.

Today I said to my father he was my strong male enemy and I smiled. Those who are closed make us deal with ourselves .

That is the path of life. We never fully understand. We always prefer to dislocate responsibility.

I will be forever thankfully to Lama Lobsang. I hope one day I am able to really be inner present. To and deal with hard moments without running from myself. And that even with my brain with areas destroyed to not forget the bests lessons of my life. I would always consider Lama Lobsang and Mustapha.

As with doubts to come to travel with my parents Mustapha said he had lost his father when he was 10 and his mom when he was 20.

As I explained about our discussions he said.

“ They will not change, nor will you”

His class was decolonizing the mind.

So when the hard discussions come between members of family we all must deal with our inner problems.

Love

Jules

Vipassana

I have a strong attachment to Asia and a willingness to do Vipassana again. Vipassana is around the world. And I did for the first time in England. I read what I wrote in the past now and it touched me. I try to translate for my friends who do not speak portuguese.

Vipassana is based on the following: the idea that suffering comes from the pattern of our mind from never being in the present. From being thrown from the past to the future by our emotions and thoughts all the time. We always react with an aversion to what we do not like and with attachment to what we want and how everything is impermanent and we suffer. But everything that exists in the present is sensations. That is why they say Buddha believed that if we learned to become fully aware of our senses, and learn to be equanimous (not reacting with attachment or aversion to them) we would deeply break the pattern of the mind’s reaction. Vipassana, therefore, trains you to become aware of the body sensations (heat, pain, tingling, vibrations, etc.) and to practice equanimity (not reacting, observing the sensations “as a scientist” objectively).

Then, during the last 7 days you learn to observe the whole body. Beginning with the head, and bit by bit scanning the whole body and watching the sensations down to the tips of the toes. 3 times a day, there is a determination to sit for an hour without moving by observing what is going on, what is to feel detached, for everything is impermanent. During the retreat he observes noble silence. Silence of speech, gestures, thought, etc …

I had of course many philosophical doubts, cognitive. Being in silence was easy. Once there is a sense of tremendous support, tremendous gratitude. Since nothing is paid to go when you arrive, and as the days go by, and it is observed how everything is well maintained, it becomes increasingly evident that all that is possible because the people who were there before you donated money, so that this opportunity was also given to other people. All the delicious food you eat is prepared by volunteers who, in addition to meditating, wake up early to cook for you.

I was very lucky with the weather. The days were beautiful. Spring was coming and, symbolically, I felt the life coming back. I confess I did not notice the flowers when I arrived. Maybe it was on the third day when I was really concentrating that I noticed that the cherry trees in front of my room were blooming. I fully understood Kurosawa this time in one of his “Dreams.” I understood more Japanese who talk so much about the beauty of cherry blossoms. The festivals (hanami) to see the blossoming cherry trees (sakura) take place in Japan since the seventh century.

There are some precepts that one observes when practicing Vipassana, and one of them is not to kill. In my first three days I was sick, I had diarrhea, and a lot of stomach pain, but observing the silence, and not having much to do, I was silent. My roommate who must have noticed my massages in the stomach, placed a small glass next to my bed. When I returned to the room, without looking at her, avoiding any communication I noticed the presence of an unknown green bottle on my side of the table. I was surprised, I took the bottle and saw that it was a natural remedy for stomach pain.

It’s incredible, as little gestures like these touch you. It had been three days since I was silent and I knew that despite the silence we were there one in the support of the other, and all mutually leaning in silence. I could not say thank you, I could not write thank you, I decided that in gratitude I would put a flower on her side of the table. Since I did not want to kill anything, including a flower, I looked for a flower that had fallen. I placed it next to the table next to Liz’s bed.

The days passed, and every day I looked at the cherry trees to see how they were that day. I felt touched by my retreat to accompany the blossoming of the cherry trees. By the end of the 10 days they were completely in bloom. I finally understood all the Japanese literature I had read. It is not only that they are beautiful, but it is the process that happens every year, an impermanent process, where one day is equal to the other, where petals fly, where everything moves towards perfection, to what may seem like a a fleeting moment of beauty, to which you can not cling. I watched the process, and experienced experientially the beauty of a blossoming cherry tree. The brief, fleeting, impermanent beauty of the cherry tree though “breathtaking” is not its greatest power. The most touching thing is observing the daily process. Perhaps the most powerful is the permanence of the impermanent. Watch the cherry blossoms bloom, and know that although spring is every time different, it is always spring. To observe a cherry tree in bloom is to observe the coexistence of chronological and cyclic time.

On the tenth day, when the silence was raised, Liz came to tell me the flower on her side of the table. I explained to her that I had taken a dead flower because I did not want to kill a flower. She had clearly understood this in our silence. And of course if I had picked a living flower, it would have been killed in the act. However, somehow there, the impermanence of life and beauty of the flower mingled. The gratitude, however, symbolized in the impermanence of the material was dissociated from the material.

Maciek Turzynski Luca Boccia Andrew Tope Isabel de Pastor Giovanni Il Camminatore Saengchan Kotchakorn Alo Pavón Elizabeth Ings

Our memories makes us realise we barely change. To evolve maybe is to accept we usually have different perceptions.

For so many years I have not spoke to my my dear friend Petlis. Pet is from HongKong and we studied at the Hofstra in Long Island in NY. At that time I was there, the year was 2001.

Talking after more than 10 years we laughed a lot. I realised that we have changed almost nothing, even thinking that we have evolved with the lessons, the losses and the aging. 🙂 So we laugh because we talk in Whatsapp in the same style of the past. It has been been many years that we have not talked and we had no face and Whatsapp talks before.

Pet came here to Brazil and I went to HongKong many years ago. We went to college together, to see Paris and London. That happened many years ago.

Pet reminded me that in HongKong I got sick from eating. I did not remember that.

When I told my grandmother who is 94 and she remembered that. She said I had a fever and I was more impressed that Pet and my grandmother remember it. My grandma told me that for over 10 years ago I had been impressed that Pet’s father had bought hundreds of movies, and books for me to see.

My grandmother telling me now and listening to Pet now, it made me remember it. Comes to my memory her house that I stayed in Hongkong. The bed I sat down and laid down as Pet’s father thought and saying I should rest before going out.

I remember now. Films in English, German, French and in other languages that I did not know. I did not know what languages they were. They were all in a Western style.

Today I understand. Having have traveled so often to Asia, I have become accustomed to seeing in letters that do not make sense to many Westerners people. So it was not easy for Pet’s father to give me books and movies.

Imagine how we could by for someone from Laos, from Vietnam, Burma, China, Thailand. 🙂 Of course in their language. So that made me realise how was wonderful kindness of Pet’s fathers had been to me.

It reminded me that I learned not to drink cold water there. I learned to drink tea. And to this day I do not like to drink anything cold. I had never realised where it came from.

And I love tea and coffee. And she tells Pet and my grandmother that I have not eaten for days and I did not remember that too. I know that here in Ubatuba in Brasil, now when I was feeling ache in my stomach and going a lot to the toilet to poop. I just stoped eating.

I resolved to be without

eating one day. I took

juice and fruits on the second day and on the third day I ate a little. So I feel super well.

When I talked to Pet, I laughed a lot. We laugh a lot because of what I remember with her, she does not remember and I do not remember what she remembers. This is deep friendship. Instead of defending yourself and saying it’s different. It is to accept that our perceptions are always different for a thousand of reasons.

When we abandon our vanity to think that we always know better, we begin to laugh and and have gratitude to return to memories and to understand that we always pay attention to different things.

Also here came to me my friend Angela who I also had not seen for a long time and just to see us together, we return to speak with the accent we invented in Itaunas, in Brasil before 2001.

How wonderful it is to return from the contacts of the past. Sundelly came to my mind my friend Maya, who is from Israel.

We met in Asia and I went to her house about 6 years ago in Israel. Now she’s a mother. She’s still with the same boyfriend I met, and I remember that so much.

I confess about my coma losses that makes me forget a lots of things. I tell her I wonder we had gone for them to buy a house on Israel’s border with Lebanon. I remember I was shocked that day. I tell her maybe my memory is a mistake.

She sends me a message on the face and she llaughs. And she says I did not change anything and she remembers this house that I had said was not a good idea.

I think it has a deep feeling. We do not forget.

Yesterday I went to buy a book for my grandmother who loves to read every day. I looked, I looked, I looked and when I saw here in Ubatuba a book of my favorite writer. Instead of buying a new one, I found a book by Dostoevsky.

Writing here I laugh. I love the Brothers Karamasov so much. I did not buy this book because my grandmother knows about it very well. I book another one by him.

I get one and I take a look and I see the story of Dostoyevsky. I knew he had been in jail. I knew he had written many books, I knew there was epilepsy in his book that I love. But I did not know Dostoyevsky was Epileptic.

It made me understand his books much more. His last book is what I love the most. Reading his story made me to see how much his life is there.

I write this laughing because we do not change anything. I still love the same things. Talking and seeing the same things.

My friend Lama Lobsang said that our greatest enemy was our best friend. They were ourselves. It is logical that the people closest to us know our reality better, but by their perceptions.

When we confront what they think they say we are, we become unhappy or angry. I have realized that we imagine that we have changed a lot. The hard part is to accept that we do not change much. Our qualities are the same, and our mistakes are the same.

Maybe evolving is to accepting the perceptions of others and the one of our greatest enemy is the same. It is ourself.

What is happening in the world?

I am coming back. In this way I think and I look. I am travelling in Brasil.

I am not nationalist. I respect the whole world. I have travelled a lot of the world and lived many years all over the world.

I do not know what is happening in the world. It looks like we are going back in time.

Crazy lideres are in power. In Brazil there is election this year.

We see a strong support to a man who is racist, male chauvinist, coming from the army and even have been criticised there.

I am amazed. In Brasil there is law for allowing homossexual to get married.

Well you might believe they respect. Sorrily I have to tell you that there are more gays killed in Brasil that in countries were there are laws of death penalties for gays.

In Brasil they are thinking even to privatise the water. This is not even in US.

As I am travelling I see this more clearly this. I am so amazed to see how many older man with young wives.

As we travel people ask if my husband is my brother. Always young people do that. They become sad that we are married.

Andre and I find funny but we see what is happening.

We come from Sao Paulo.

Sao Paulo is a big city and is the richest city of Brasil. We depend completely of people who came from the north.

As we travel we see that gas and petrol is more expensive than in Sao Paulo.

It is amazing to be told that as we go up we will spend more than in Sao Paulo.

It is hard to believe that were they have less money. Things are more expensive.

Is this really going back? Is it again having colonising thoughts and not allowing people who are poor and black and indigenous to move? To learn? To get out? To study, to have medicine ?

I really cant understand why people who are black, poor are supporting this man of who I am I speaking of I will not say his name…

As I travel I will tell more up of Brasil.&

Hope

I am profoundly happy. I know most of my friends Know I was in coma two times. I want to tell the great things of a fall.

The first time I was in Thailand with a boyfriend. I had an Epileptic attack. It was not my first attack in my life, in Thailand. I love Asia.

Anyway I was then induced to coma. I was abandoned by the boyfriend. I was treated by my family and Dr Getulio.

As time went by I met Andre and we went to Venezuela. We climbed, we traveled, we got married and Andre got a Job in Sao Paulo, Brasil.

I told him we should move to Peru. He got his job there and we moved to Lima.

Dr Getúlio dies and suddenly I started to feel bad.

In many years they were trying to find out why I have epilepsy.

The first epileptic attack was in Marrakesh in Morocco. I returned to London and I told to Haiko, my first husband, and great friend till these day, then in the past he told me to speak to a doctor. They were afraid of my words.

I never knew what was epilepsy. I simply said the truth.

I said

“I was in the bed of the beautiful house of my friend. I put my head up and felt it went going up. I fell in bed. I woke up and did not know what had happened. Was it a dream?”

As I spoke , the doctor told more doctors to come to hear. They agreed and told me I had to go to hospital.

As I went to I was deeply afraid. They did loads of exams and Haiko had to leave. I was so afraid.  As time went by they told me I had epilepsy. I have to take medicine and return.

I left and put it away. I did not want to take it. I started to look for alternative ways.

I did not tell my family in Brasil I have had an epileptic attack. As 6 months went by and I was on the phone with my mom suddenly I was blocked to speak. My mom was confused. I could not speak but I could write what was happening.

My mom desperately told me to go to the airport and to fly to Brasil.

As I arrived in Sao Paulo, as fast as I could, I am taken to Samaritano hospital and it is there that I have the luck to meet Dr Getulio.

He did everything to find out what was behind my attacks. For so many years I came to Brasil to find our but never showed nothing.

I kept doing what I wanted. I did Master, PhD and I decided to abandon it all.

Haiko was great. LSE was great. My friends great. My trips greats. I was selfish and not realist of so much was around me . I quit all and went back to India that I love because once I had been with Haiko and saw HH Dalai Lama because luckily we arrived as he taught a course.

Anyway. I say too much. As I quit it all I once broke my foot in Thailand. Not falling. My brother heard and told me to come back to Brasil.

I came back and they looked my foot in Samaritano hospital and they told me the foot was not broken but I had to have it blocked for a month. I did it 2 weeks and went climbing.

Again decided to do alternative treatment and did not take epileptic medicine and had again an attack.

Went to Samaritano and Dr Getulio told my parents to go out and to speaks to me. Very strongly he said.

“Julieta you choose your doctor, and I choose my patients. If you do not take your medicine you are not my patient. Having more epileptic attacks you will loose parts of your brain.”

I took the medicine   but I had had another epileptic attack and. When they do not know and are afraid of what is happening they induce a person to a coma to try to discover what is happening to a person. As I said for me it happened two times.

Coma is not bad. What it is hard is to return.

I write all of these to hopefully to  help some people.

The second coma was harder. They tell me I stayed for 30 days in coma, returning was harder.   I saw now these videos. Me on the hospital and not able to open my eyes. Not speaking.

First I must say it  is amazing that I am writing these.

I could not talk, speak, to walk, to read, to sing, to remember things, to know numbers. Those are areas, zones of the brain.

I am slowly returning.  Yesterday my Dr Karen told me she could never imagine I could return so much, so better than I was some  months ago.

She discovered I have AutoImune Encephalitis. I am so thankfully to Dr Karen,  Dr Getulio, Dr Laura, Dr Euthimia, my parents, Andre, my grandmother. So many people actually.

I also wanted to say today I wrote half of all these words  in the place I used to love to climb. I was able to clim in the easy level .  As I did it the other weak I was so happy. Today I did a little but let andre did it with someone else and I wrote.

When we fall, we lose and we start to sea we had and we had not given value.

I am still bad at writting and reading. Bad at remembering names, faces , immediate memories. So if I see you and do not recognize you do not be angry or said it is part of my falls.

Today I am thankful  to my hard coma. It forced me to be present. That is the hardest thing there is.

In any problem don’t abandon hope. I do not speak of religions.  Chose your path but try to always use all zones of the brain.  If I had not learned many languages it would be hard to return to speak. If my mom had not showed me  paths of  flexibility when I was young it would be harder to come back to walk.  As for mathematics I was never good. As for music the melodies are inside but the words, I cant sing.

It is hard to accept the losses but from them also come the wining good things.

The harder path

WhatsApp Image 2017-11-11 at 16.25.50It has been a long time that I have not been writing. It is hard to do it. Some years ago I wrote a book. Mosaic the path in between. Ironically my in between is very hard. It is hard for me to read, imagine writing. It makes me think that the brain has many different zones. As you can see, it makes me remember things that I knew and are now blocked.

As you see there is a huge path. And it took a while and loads of problems for them to find out what I have. I’ll tell you. But I’ll tell how it was the path to me.

It is very difficult to. I try anyway, when Fernanda, my cousin said she feels I would be able. She had not seen me in a while…. Like many don’t have an idea of how I am.
I write but I ask Andre my husband, engineer, and more important “Great companion in any situation.

I’ll start by saying that after going back to Asia, and I dreamed to go to Burma. The first time I tried, I broke my foot and had to go back to Brazil. The second time, as I was getting my visa, I had an epileptic attack and was taken to hospital, was induced to a coma, then my parents came to pick me up. It took me a while to recover.

As I got better, I started walking, climbing mountains, and met André. We went to Venezuela, Chile, made friends. We got married, to my party came Leila and Alondra. Both of them are deep friends, they lived with me in different countries. When I couldn’t speak, they helped me to speak in french, in english and spanish.

Being in coma, and losing my ability to speak, made me realize how important it was that I had known different languages. It made me realize that, if you want to have a child, you should let him learn different languages. I say it because I was in coma, I lost my language, the only possibility of speaking was due to the fact that I had learned different languages as a child.

My dear friend Leila was killed, and losing her and Dr. Getulio, moved me so much that I once again ended up in hospital, this time they thought I had Cerebral Vasculitis. As I told before, from there I bought tickets to go to Thailand and BURMA 🙂

I was told I could die. I said I preferred to die in the path that in hospital. I went alone. It was amazing. Burma was even better than I imagined AND I did so many paths. I came back to Brasil. And we moved to Peru. Andre was working there. And I was in my free path to meet people, make friends. As usual found the Chinese, and the path of Tibet.

Well this time the path started to be blocked. I Came back to Brasil and went to a famous doctor which was expensive and said I Had nothing. I did not believe. I stayed in Brasil, because I felt I was not well.

Now, it was told to me, I do not remember many of my months. I am told I stood up, I sat, I didn’t speak, I can barely walk anymore. I am carried to hospital. Once again, I am induced to coma. This time, it was for twenty days. Made me think of what I have learned of the brain.

As I came back to my house, it is not really me. I could not walk, not talk, nor remember. It does not seem nothing of me. I can not remember songs, people, books, anything about religions. All I remember was action and reaction. I need more than ever help with everything. You have no idea how hard it is for me to write now. I have the whole time someone editing… not someone, Andre who have always helped me. Being him always asking to not be credited, but incentivizing me to be independent.

Now last time I saw my wonderful Doctor dr. Karen says: Wow you are back!!!! I ask Please tell me what is the name of what I have!

Autoimmune Encephalitis

That is my path, My disease is very rare, and in my case, it is myself who attacks me. And the truth is that we don’t know, I don’t know how it happened.
I’m honest to say that it is beyond hard to explain what I feel. I feel enormously thankful to my grandmother, to André, to my parents, and to every single friend of mine who has supported me, in spite of how close or far they are.

As hard as this disease is, how difficult it is for me to do all that I did. How hard it is to let go so many things. Obliges me to, wanting or not, meditate and search for a meaning.

Of all that I have to say is that I am thankful, even for this disease, because it allowed me to meet people who go through hard lives, but above all, it makes me learn to do what I do. All I say to you who read me, give value to what you have, to the person that is next to you. Take your time inside.

It made me think with the little capacity I had, as hard as it is, made me remember, we all search for happiness in distractions. When we loose so many abilities, we realize the hardest path is inside of us. It is where happiness is, just like sadness.

 

P.S.:The path is hard, and I am trying to stay on the road. I just received a gift from my mother, who is in Africa. It is a beautiful frame. I looked and I’m moved, I call her. She tells me she bought it, and it comes from Burma. I am reminded of my complicated mind: where is Burma? Burma is Myanmar. In the past I knew the different stories, changes of names. But now I did not remember. I decided to write, to come back to the path, to stay strong. To remember all of us, that if we want happiness, in spite of how difficult it is, to accept our differences, to be thankful for what we have. And to always accept happiness, not the distraction, but really be where we are. I look at the gift of my mother that came from Burma. The country I tried a lot to go, and despite my disease, I went. And in every step it reminded me that the path is in the life of everybody. How we live, how we feel, depends simply of our decision to be compassionate, to be peaceful.

Lots of Love, thankfulness and a deep desire that everybody should always look at everything deeply thankful.