Back in 2012, I remember being in Galicia, with water up to my knees, speaking with someone to whom I wished very well. We were agitating the water with our feet – the waters of the Galician sea are clear and let us see our bodies’ reflection. We argued about the theories of the end of the world that so many people preached.

It’s curious how, every once in a while, the human being has a huge need to announce an end.

On a book from one of the loves of my life, “Death with Interruptions” by José Saramago, he raises the huge question of what is, after all, the essence of life made of, if not of the existence of death.

I’ve always been fascinated by the concept of life and death – when a teacher of Physics and Chemistry, in eight grade, told us about Lavoisier’s law, my eyes sparkled. “Nothing is lost, nothing is created, everything is transformed”. It was exactly how I saw the world, and knowing that someone, centuries before, thought in the same way, inspired me forever.

Later on, while reading Saramago’s words, that feeling returned.

Death has always inspired me to live.

The concept of eternal life, of immortality, has always seemed absolutely boring to me. I don’t want to live forever – if there was no end, how would I feel such need to absorb everything I can while I’m here? What would be of longing, of love, if it weren’t for the fear of never again seeing each other, touching each other?

This way of seeing the world is similar to a butterfly’s life – you go through a process of metamorphosis, and when you finally fly, it doesn’t take long until you die. So you need to live everything to the fullest, with too much intensity. What is living if not exactly that?

Maybe the cycle of waiting for an apocalypse is repeated because we are longing to witness something magnificent.

If we’re going to die, let it be at the end of the ends, right? Witnessing the most extraordinary scenery of Nature. But that’s not what’s in store for us. We still have a very long and stormy way to go. The human being is still a larva in metamorphosis.

While we agitated the water, I shared with my friend that I didn’t believe in such an ending, that I saw all of this as the end of a cycle, like the ancient civilizations described it (more specifically the Mayas). I’m not a specialist, I’m just someone who spends a lot of time thinking and drawing possible outcomes.

I had the feeling that, once again, the filter of a society with no spirituality didn’t allow us to interpret the prophecies of our ancestors as we should have. They talked about the change of an era, the end of darkness, an awakening of consciousness. And I believed that, indeed, it would finally make sense.


My life changed a lot since that year. In some ways, I guarantee without a doubt that I, myself, awoke. After going through the most dilacerating and disturbing years of my life, during which I hit way below rock-bottom, I felt, finally, a rebirth.

I was the cocoon, the larva that disgusts so many people, the pain of body and soul. Until I took off and flew. Many of the things I saw, believed in, and felt, were no longer comparable to what my mind and my personality became after the trauma. It was the rebirth of the fenix from the ashes.

I realized not only my inner peace and light, which have been with me through the last years of my life, but, above all, the peace and light of others.

I write and I shall keep on writing, because my life, although simple – and just because I let myself be led by her – has given me opportunities to see, feel and meet extraordinary dimensions of Humanity.

When I have this talk with more skeptical, terrain people – which I respect, understand and accept with all my heart – I am always looked at and seen as a mad person. I smile, and open my chest to share what best I have inside – love. There’s nothing in this life that I don’t try to answer to with love.

And then I try to explain that, if Lavoisier was right, if there are theories that explain that the whole Universe was born from an explosion of matter that didn’t even exist before, then we are made of that same matter ourselves.

The moon influences the tides; our ancestors, before they were invaded by waves of colonialism and destruction, walked hand-in-hand with the Earth and the Sky. They marveled at the wisdom of the stars, they predicted good crops based on the dots they saw in the sky. If the Moon, that is a moon, can influence life on

If the Moon, that is a moon, can influence life on Earth, if all life on Earth is energy and matter, why the hell shouldn’t I, a daughter of this unity, be influenced by her as well?

I usually ask people what their Zodiac sign is, and unless they belong to the most open and sensitive ones, the answer is usually always the same: “Don’t tell me you believe in those things?!”. I smile.

When we were born, in that unique and exact moment, the whole Universe was alive. The planets were spinning and were in a specific position when I saw the light of day and screamed for the first time. Am I sure? No. Of anything.

But why not consider that, maybe, we are way less and way more than we imagine?

I’m in love with my insignificance, because of how volatile, replaceable we are, because of the disdain with which our existence can simply end, at a glance.

What surrounds us is so much bigger than us. In the last centuries, Man has managed to progress so much technologically: inventing cures to diseases, creating art masterpieces with his own hands, designing machines for everything.

But the questions remain the same. We ask the same questions that ancient Greek philosophers did, we identify with personalities and ways of thinking of people that are now reduced to dust.

Because it doesn’t matter how high a building we can build, we will always be microscopic dots in this huge scenery.


A week ago, while shooting a piece for the newspaper I work at, about illegal fishermen, I was talking with two men, standing on my feet. I was trying to conquer their trust, when I saw a skinny gentleman, with white, long hair, grabbed in a ponytail, looking at me.

I walked towards him.

– Are you also a fisherman?

– No, I’m not. What is your Zodiac sign?

I found it fascinating how, in that setting, someone answering me for the first time came up with that exact question.

– It’s Pisces.

– I know. Mine too. You, child, have all the kindness in your eyes. Pisces are all like that, and beware because I know a lot about the stars.

As I heard this, I sat next to him and asked:

– And what do they tell you about this crazy world?

– Do you think the world is crazy? Do you feel lost?

– A bit. But less, as time goes by. I have met many different people that give me hope.

As we stared at the river, full of people moving to make a living, he sighed and answered:

– Yeah, and you know why? Everything is changing, child. It’s a new era, time to wake up. You know what the ancients said? Times of Light are coming.


In love with life, I've always asked many questions and was never satisfied with easy answers. With skinned knees, typical of someone who enjoys life with body and soul, who grew up traveling in the stories and fantastic worlds of the people with whom I've crossed paths. A fish with a bear’s heart, with a special esteem for nature and for the best in humanity, I've found in journalism a way to bring answers and share stories with the world.


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