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.

We should have less fear and make a path in the path we believe we are helping all the people in the world.

Rewriting is interesting. Suddenly I come Back to writing it is interesting. Suddenly I am coming back. Writing is interesting. Suddenly things come to my mind.

I remember that Dr Getulio use to tell me that I should write about things about my epileptic that we knew nothing what it came from. To tell how I felt.

Dr. Getulio was my dear doctor with whom I always had conflicts about our ideas.

Dr Getulio died of running. He had a heart attack and went to the hospital and, like me, he was in a coma, but he did not come back.

Dr. Getulio always used to say that every epileptic seizure would make my brain be destroyed.

The first epileptic seizure happen when I was in Morocco, at the house of my friend Mounia (Moon).

There are three people from Morocco who are very important in my life.

Mounia, Leila and Mustapha. Mounia is a great artist, Leila an incredible photographer and Mustapha an incredible teacher in my life. He did the “decolonizing the mind” that class meant a lot to me till today.

I met the 3 in Long Island in NY. I went to college at Hofstra and had won a scholarship from Ibeu.

I arrived 10 days before 9 11. Even in Long Island I could hear the explosion.

That changed me a lot. My friends from Morocco had to explain that they were not terrorists. All students from Muslim countries had to explain and I became more interested in learning what was going on in the Middle East.

I ended up winning another Hofstra scholarship to study international politics in Amsterdam in the Netherlands.

There I met Haiko. Haiko was my first husband. Even today he is my friend. The separation I invented to abandon my doctorate which was at the LSE in London. My doctorate was about Israel and Palestine. I l left and went to travel.

Before my doctorate and master’s degree I lived in London and I went to Morocco to know the country of my friends.

Mounia arranged an incredible trip for me Haiko and our friend Adriana to go to the Sahara desert. It was amazing.

We went to other beautiful places together like Marrakech, Rabat, Casablanca, but Haiko and Adriana had to go back to work and I decided to stay to know the city that Felipe had told me it was beautiful.m

Felipe had won the same scholarship and it was he who wrote me to go to Hofstra. Me as a spoiled person I even though I might not want to go. Felipe inspired me to go to US.

He had gone to Morocco many years before I went. He had loved and told me that it was beautiful Chefchaouen.

I went and loved it. I met two Spanish gentlemen who were shocked that I was traveling alone. They bought things from Morocco and sold it in Spain.

I explained that it was regular to me to travel alone since I was young woman. In any case they offered to give me a ride to go to Spain.

I did not even know it learned that Spain had land in Africa. I accepted the offer.

The lords were very nice to me and made me see many places until I reached the border. I crossed to Ceuta. When I got in the car, no one from the border looked at me. They just looked at my passport.

I was sad and shocked by Celta. I stayed at the hotel and returned on foot to return to Morocco. Then I saw what I have already written and I will never forget.

Too many queues but they sent me to the front. Africans returning to Africa with the face of sadness. The dream of having a a better life in Europe destroyed. When I crossed I went to see those who tried to cross to Europe with the dream of improve their life.

I took a taxi. At the border there were many of them. And I did not even know where to go. I went from town to town and returned to Marrakech.

I saw my friend Leila, I saw Mounia. We walk. And suddenly from my last days in Morocco I go to sleep and I started feeling electricity in the body. Never had it before. It comes in the body and goes up. It made me feel run from myself.

There is no escape from yourself. And suddenly it goes to the head and I fall in the bed where I was already.

Without have ever having been sick in Morocco. Never having been sad or angry. I was in the place of my friends and everything was perfect in my trip.

I remember when I woke up and told Moon she told the lady who worked there . She prayed in a Moroccan way. I spoke to the doctor and did not think it was anything.

Mounia and Leila were my college friends. Mounia came to my first marriage in Holland. Leila lived with me in NY. Mustapha has always made me think of decolonizing the mind. I worked with him in college.

In my first coma Leila would call me to help me to speak French again. Mustapha wanted to know what was happening to me. On my second marriage to my love André, Leila came here to Brazil.

I got married in September 2015. Leila was killed in Ouagadogou in January 2016. Dr Getulio died in February 2016. And I went to the hospital again. I felt bad. They did not know what it was. They thought it was Vasculitis. They gave me cortisone. And I went to Burma alone. Andre and I moved to Peru and again I felt sich and I go to Brasil and I am induced to Coma in Brasil. This time without Dr Getulio and Leila.

I tell all this to say that Dr Getulio searched for years and died doing what he loves. Leila was doing what she loves.

Felipe a great filmmaker is making a movie about Leila now.

Written all this is to tell that we do not know much about our life. The most important thing is to give value to all our actions.

I hope we can all do what we believe is the best not only for us, for the world.

I hope people understand that people have different perceptions. We are all are going to depart from our lifes.

We need to be less afraid. And accept how the path is. Even with my great longing for Leila and Getulio I know they died doing what they love and thinking about the others.

Areas of the Brain

It is harder for me to write. I guess we have to simply accept the mistakes.

When I was a child my parents put me in a French school when I was a child.

In Lycée in Brasil I had to speak most things in french, also english and portugues.

I hated. I went to Lycée in Argentina and there french and spanish. When we return to Brasil as an adolescent I cried, scream to get put of the French school and go to Brazilian school.

Mu father did not want, and my mother accepted.

I moved and was choked how boring was Brazilian school I went.We had to read the same book. We had to classes and for exams we had to write the same thing we had learned. For that we had a great notes.

In Lycee it was the opposite. The same what you have learned you get bad notes. To be good it have to be thoughts after we have learned.

To read we would go to the place of books to choose of the book we think is good. All my friends had different than me. After maybe a week we had an exam. That was to tell others about the book and what we thought. That I started to love reading.

The funny thing is that with my coma now it is easier to write than to read. I realise it is probably in different parts of the brain.

I am writing this because as I had told in my coma I could not do anything I am slowly returning.

As I am in Asia I have to speak english, French, Spanish and I realise that what I learned as a child is more strong after.

I had learned some of Duch in Holland, I lived there and my first husband eas from there, Arab from Palestine, Hebrew because my Phd , Thai because I was volunteer teaching english in a small village where just no one lady spoke English. Italian because when I lived in Australia I was forced to learn another language.

As I am in Thailand I realise it is hard to return to what you learn not as a child.

I also realise that are many parts of the brain. I was always bad with numbers. I am worse now. I also had to learn swimming, flexibility like yoga, music as a child.

As I am travelling to places I know well I can swim , do Yoga, bicycles, walks.

I see this days a women from Thailand adopted a child here in Thailand who was pregnant 18. It was her student, she was afraid. She told her she would adopt her . I thought all people who want to have children they choose learn from my coma.

I realise if my parents had not made me learn languages, movements of body, music, mathematics I realise I would not be able to bagly to write this. Even with mistakes I know it is importanta.

I do not think your kids have coma. I say because my grandmother is 94 and reads in 3 la languages. Have broken legs but it is doing Physiotherapy . Grand ma always did gim.And she says she is old I get books, music for values of life. Values is to live even in losses.

I guess I write this that I realise how profoundly how is important it is for the kids to learn when they are young. Their lives will be better. Getting older will be better. Use all the areas of the brain. Languages, mathematics, art, music, yoga, Swim etc,

I would like to go to Lycée to say thank you for teaching me to have thoughts in relationship to what we have learned. Never to simply say the same you have learned.

And I also realise that I am thankfully to my mother who is 70 and have always accepted my ideas, made me live out of family at 15. To have always to deal with my huge different ideas. I had learned in Licee not to copy, to thin.

Like now. I change my plan and me and Andre are going to Vietnam. This is the place I have never been. I admire my mom did not say “ Dont go” Even Dad once had to came here to take me out of coma in Thailand. Mom and Dad.

She said “ Enjoy” My grandma is the same. “ I am happy you are enjoying”.

Remember now I write and make mistakes. That is ok for me.

I also forget images, faces, memory and the music is harder the melodies.. never the words, the name 🙂

I guess we have to accepts falls but that is not to keep present thinking the past is better. As Dalai Lama says

” when we loose don’t the lesson. ”

Why do I love the whole World?

I am hoping to go back to Asia. Sometimes I wonder why I love so much Asia. As I have already said that I was in Coma two times. On the first time I was in Thailand. I love Thailand. I have been there many times for many months. I was volunteer teaching English in a school where just one lady spoke English. It was Piwatana who told me to call her Pai Mama.

That time I started to see the difference of the school that I knew. They were from the west. The school where I was volunteering was in a small village in Thailand. There where young children that where responsible for cleaning the classes of the school. At first as someone from the occident I thought it was horrible. In few days I saw it was great. I could see how much it meant to the children.

I was not surprised that when children where in cave that as they took them out the first they did not tell who was. I was not surprised that they did not scream, cry, as they came out. This is what I remember of Asia. In Asia they give value of a group. I would imagine that in Brasil the richer would pay to get first that child and know the name. This I really thing of the Occident.

As I keep thinking I remember how much in many countries of Asia they give value to getting older. They value them for the knowledge they get by getting older. I usually kept seeing people going forward positively..

My grandmother is almost 94 and she thinks she is very old in a way of thinking negatively. My grandmother has amazing memory. She reads in many languages, but she thinks is bad to go forward.

Here in Brasil, in the state of Sao Paulo, there are many ladies who do their hair like my grandmother. That are many ladies who are 90 till 100 years. I learned from the lady who makes the hair. There are many women who are 100 years doing that hair with her.

I met a friend of Andre that is of a family that came from Japan. His Grandfather is 107 and he lives alone and is well. Naoko who is my friend and does acupuncture is 82 and is always in the present and loves to learn new courses, new things every day. She is also is a daughter of Japanese family. As she told me, that in Japan they call her Brazilian, and here they call her Japanese. At first, they even gave her the name Neusa. It took years for her to simply present herself with her real name Naoko. In Japan they give a Huge value to get older.

As I was speaking to my friend who was born in Brasil but his family is from India. We spoke of the differences when we feel we are from out. We lived all over the world and travelled the world. That who has lived liked me and Sho probably feels we are of the world.

Our deep friends are not from countries, not families, nor religion, nor politics. It is more about trying to understand the versions of seeing and understanding what the world is. What do we have to learn? What do we give?? We have people of 108 years, this is nothing of the world. Even Human beings are also young in the world. Since we are in this world for a small time. What do we give? What do we value?

I have deep friends all over the world. As I was speaking to Sho we spoke of this huge difference of being present. He also thought in the west we are in a hurry. Why are we???

As I am getting better we don’t know. I know I had an epileptic attack in Morocco in the house of my dear friend Mounia. My epilepsy has nothing to do with Morocco. Morocco will be forever inside of me because of Mounia, Leila, Mustapha. That is deeply part of my life. And now I know that they have tried to understand all over the world but we don’t know.

I asked Andre to not work this year and to travel. We went to travel a bit Brasil before Asia. I was amazed to see that people in Brasil out of Sao Paulo started to tell me they were very old when they were 50. They did not talk about it positively. They thought about it negatively.

I made my parents and doctor shocked months ago. I said I would go back to Asia. I did not know where, but I wanted to go to Asia. And then my friend Pao, my dear friend from Thailand asked me “When will I meet Andre?” I knew immediately. Thailand and Laos. MutMee!!! If you ever go to Thailand, go to MutMee. It is in front of Mekong. How beautiful the sunset is. There you have the luck to meet Julian. His stories are amazing. And with my bad memories I always remember of hearing. And there I always met great people.

I am deeply happy that I will go back and now even my parents, my doctor are not afraid, they are happy. I love Asia and I respect the world, but I try to learn more to be present. Pao as we speak tells me “Don’t be in a hurry. Come slowly.”

I love Asia. I hope it will all be nice and that I do not give problems to other there. I hope Andre will love Mut Mee. I never met someone who just stayed one day. We stop and stayed more there. I guess it was the best to make me be present.

As Sho said we should not hurry for the future. We should accept our problems and try everyday day to give the huge values that we have even in our problems, and mistakes. That is why I guess I love Asia. It is the place where people give value to experiences and the more we grow they have more value. And always more in present. I could not be wrong but that is what I feel.

I just realise that I love Asia, and feel I am from the whole world. It is because my mom and dad always made me learn languages, to travel, to sturdy all over the world. As they are in 70 my mam, and 68 my dad. They keep travelling and doing loads of exercises 🙂

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.&


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.