I almost forgot…

I almost forgot that the whole point is to begin existing from within myself—listening to, feeling, and expressing my breath.

I almost forgot that the whole point of this life is to wake up every morning recognizing my reality: where I have stood before, where I want to stand tomorrow, but most importantly, where I stand today.

I almost forgot that the whole point in this life is to embrace my human body, to nourish it with healthy food, to care for it through diverse movement, and to allow it to experience its forms through different activities—be it a yoga class, learning an extreme sport, or simply taking a walk.

I almost forgot that the whole point in this life is the constant admiration of nature: how the sun rises every morning, how I can get up, take a shower, see my naked silhouette, apply sunscreen, feel the protection of that layer, wait a few minutes, then step outside and feel the warmth of the morning sun. To feel that contrast as if it were the sun caressing my skin. As if the sun’s rays were kissing my body while it absorbs vitamin D, and I recharge with that beautiful energy—as my blood vessels expand, as I feel my blood circulate, and an inner relaxation begins that allows me to think more clearly and prepare for the day I’m about to experience. Accessing these natural processes is part of keeping myself healthy and in harmony with nature.

I almost forgot that the whole point in this life is to feel loved, cared for, respected, valued, heard, supported, chosen—first and foremost by myself. To understand that I must not stay in places or with people where I’m not receiving what I am already capable of giving myself. And therefore, of giving to others.

I almost forgot that the whole point in this life is also the exploration of human experiences and creations: a beautiful classical melody, an expressive album from an artist—understanding their words of expression from a middle ground, not making them mine, because even if the context may be similar, they, like me, are also living their own life. So from my middle, I allow myself to observe and feel, to admire a painting, to give freedom to my mind to explore and imagine the ways that art makes me feel—to experience art in its many forms and expressions.
I almost forgot that the whole point in this life is to give pieces and versions of myself through connection with other human beings, and to find our own dance together, where I am dancing in rhythm, in partnership, where both are present—giving and receiving.

I almost forgot that the whole point in this life is to allow myself to learn new things, to grow, to ask for forgiveness—not as an act of inferiority, but as an act of acknowledgment that I am constantly working on evolving. And so, knowing how to ask for forgiveness is recognizing my own human flaws and communicating that I’ve grown to a point where I can understand how my actions may have hurt or confused others. I feel the responsibility to ask for forgiveness as an act of self-love, as recognition of my human imperfection, and as an open, infinite door to constant transformation and evolution—one that dissolves any wall, any structure, any planet, any form—until I return to my true limitless existence, my true consciousness.

I almost forgot that the whole point in this life is to respect the life process of others—to know how to be kind, how to listen, how to help when I can and when asked, without losing parts of myself or sacrificing myself to the point of becoming uncentered.

I almost forgot that the whole point in this life is to look through eyes of love, to offer smiles of gratitude, to communicate with a calm and respectful voice to my mother and father—to transmit to them my deep gratitude for giving me this extraordinary experience of life. To know that they, like me, like every human being out there, are doing the best they can with what they know, with what they have, and with what they’re striving to achieve. And before recognizing them as my parents, I recognize them as human beings—flesh and bone—sharing the same world I inhabit.
I almost forgot that the whole point in this life is to wake up every morning thanking God for the miracle of my existence and everything around me—for this body, this vessel that holds my soul and allows me to experience this human life.

I almost forgot that the whole point in this life is to know that as long as my heart is beating, everything in this reality has a solution. And that with the guidance and light of God, I will find that organization and those solutions. I trust that even while I’m feeling my own processes—even in my imperfection, in my pain, on those days when nothing seems to make sense—God is always above everything. And as long as I stay honest from my interior to my exterior world, everything will keep working in my favor. My only responsibility is to do the best I can.

I almost forgot that the whole point in this life is the experience of love, of care, of finding that shared world with the man I choose to share my life with—that we both say “forever” and create our own expressions of life.

I almost forgot that the whole point in this life is to create, to work in collaboration with people where we all help each other grow, learn, and achieve whatever personal concept of success we each hold.

I almost forgot that the whole point in this life is to be: the sister I want to have, the friend I want to have, the partner I want to have, the neighbor I want to have, the adult figure I wished for as a child, the professional I hope to meet, the stranger who smiles the way I would want to be smiled at. I almost forgot that by being what I wish to encounter, I am already beginning to create the experience myself.

I almost forgot that the whole point in this life is the experience itself—from the dance of my darkness and my light, letting both have conversations with one another to understand each other, to express themselves, to know from where I am existing, from where I am creating. To know that I can take my time and space to speed up my rhythm, to slow it down, to do everything, or to do nothing.

I almost forgot that the whole point in this life is a human experience of which I have no idea when or how it will end—and for that very reason, waking up healthy and inspired each day is a true miracle. And that makes me extremely humble and surrendered to the will of God—knowing that He always knows what’s best for me. And that within my free will, which He fully respects, lies the freedom to have conversations with Him, to ask for His divine interference, because I trust Him.

I almost forgot that the whole point in this life is to live without regrets, without attachments, without fear. To live listening to my heart first, so that on the day my body no longer awakens, my soul can move forward and return to the true divinity—where all beauty, all love, all truth, and everything I don’t yet know is revealed to me. Where I can return to the home I had to forget in order to walk through this reality. Where I can return to the arms and love of all the art that God in His consciousness is.

I almost forgot that the whole point in this life…
Is to become a good and grateful person for the extraordinary gift of life.