1 ~ Introduction: How Did I Get Here?

I’m going to India. I’ve already bought my ticket.

After days and nights of relentless reflection and moments of anxiety, doubts, chaos, and instability.I can still see those dark days in Copenhagen that gently and painfully pushed me, like a small river about to overflow, to make the decision, perhaps one of the most difficult decisions of my life.

I knew what was at stake in this journey. Inside me, I was fighting a battle that had been going on for several years.I needed to reconnect with myself, I felt lost. I was looking for meaning. I kept looking for meaning.

"I need to find myself." My therapist said she didn’t understand what that meant. Neither did I.

Four years ago, I left my home in Argentina.I had always wanted to live in a small town in the mountains. Every time I traveled through the roads of my country, I wondered how those people ended up living there. It was a recurring idea, but I never had the courage.Instead, I came up with the idea of traveling to Europe, to live in a country I didn’t even know where it was on the map.That was the first leap.

Terrified and with many uncertainties, I dismantled my house, sold almost everything I had, and went to seek what I had always wanted: the experience of living somewhere else.

The first few months were beautiful, everything was new. Then I fell in love. That always makes things complicated.We didn’t know how to handle it.

After two years, I returned to Argentina, pretty much broken from love. I recovered, and after a brief lapse, I left again, and came back to where I had left. I went back to Denmark, to reclaim myself as a warrior.I hadn’t left on good terms, so my stubborn ego and I needed to fix it, and we came back for a second round, to try again. At first, it was for me, and then of course, it was for both of us – but it was really also for me and to heal my ego, which had been hurt.

I successfully rebuilt myself, personally and professionally.I rose from the ashes like a phoenix, and of course, after a while, we met again, tried to be together, and failed again...

The second time was more painful than the first (and truly, the first could have been a good lesson!). The second time, like all second parts, was more complex, leaving me more shattered, darker, and angrier. I knew when to step back, not without having suffered enough to realize that I was not doing well there.I was giving it my all, but in the wrong way, and my body began to show it little by little. I wasn’t eating well, sleeping well, or living well either.

My sessions with my therapist had become monotonous. I knew what I had to do, but I couldn’t do it. I had never experienced it so intensely. I watched everything like a movie, but couldn’t escape the hell that was in my mind.

I still don’t understand this story. Was it the greatest love of my life or the greatest obsession of my ego? I can’t answer, I just can’t see it. It’s like my heart shut the door but left a huge mess inside that I couldn’t explain. Fortunately, I stopped searching for it, but I still have the key, and that apartment is still in my name.

I locked the door and walked away, like someone who sees a huge flying cockroach in a small room and takes the smartest solution: walk towards the exit without looking at it, close the door, run out, and put a bomb in the house to blow everything up. No one can fight a flying cockroach, it has all the powers combined, it’s like an evil superhero. In the same way, I ran away from my flying cockroach, which was actually pure love, we just didn’t know how to do it together. This time, it wasn’t an escape. It was a personal battle.

Returning to Argentina, to "home," was a comforting solution, but it wouldn’t give me the answers I needed. I had already tried that, it didn’t work. I needed something stronger, something with a shock effect, like electroshock. I hadn’t been happy for a long time.

What a big question happiness is, right?

A few days ago, I spoke with some men who could communicate with souls ("the dead and the living too!" – my friend told me). They healed family lineages.They asked me what made me happy. I found myself blank, I didn’t know how to answer.

– You’re complicated, they told me – Thanks! Really? , I already knew that. – You should put that question in front of the mirror every day until you answer it.

I knew that too. As if it were that easy… as if everyone knew. As if it were just putting a note on the fridge to remind you what you have to do and simply doing it. Maybe then there would be fewer therapists and more refrigerator salesmen.

I was in a place in my life where I couldn’t even see the fridge.

That’s when India enters the picture.

Lying in bed alone, in a room that wasn’t mine, thinking that if I can’t find an answer to love or to what I truly want in life, I always have the option to go alone to the ends of the earth and try something more drastic.When you already feel like you’re in the worst place, it’s impossible to mess things up further.

India was an easy, predictable answer. The place where lost souls go in search of meaning and spirituality that will bring them back to life. To seek answers or to shake up everything. In my case, it was both. Something that would make me feel again, because I felt anesthetized. Something that would bring me back to life, because I had no idea how to do it anymore...

Since the idea of going to India appeared in my mind, everything started to conspire, organize, and energetically align for me to take that path.The universe began sending me signals non-stop. Messages, energies, imbalances, losses, connections, endings. Suddenly, everything I had built in Copenhagen started to crumble one by one. My relationship, my jobs, my health, my mental stability.

I didn’t want to leave, but there was a force that gently but firmly pushed me to move. I could feel it. Like a father encouraging his child from behind to jump off the diving board, giving gentle pats that bring them closer to the edge.A voice inside me said it like a whisper, soft but clear:

-You have to do it.

Your good karma, the Indians would tell me later.

Leaving everything behind and going to India to "find myself" seemed crazy. I didn’t want to do it, but by this point, swimming against the current was also becoming exhausting. I wanted to wake up from this, like one wakes up from a bad dream, lie in bed, and watch Netflix without many more existential worries. But I didn’t know how to go back to that.

I believe in energy. I couldn’t and didn’t want to ignore it, but I clung to every second of my old life in Copenhagen like a thirsty person clinging to the last drops of water in the middle of the desert. They know everything is wrong, that the water will run out at some point, but it doesn’t matter for that microsecond the sip lasts. They are too scared to take the uncertain road.

That’s how I was. But besides fear, I have courage, and I bought the ticket. A one-way ticket. I had no idea what could happen there.

The moment was coming fast. I had no more time. One of the most important decisions of my life was approaching.

❦

I lived for more than 6 months in India and 3 more in Asia. And then I returned, to India, of course.

Here’s a bit of what that incredible learning experience was like in the land of a thousand gods, for which I am infinitely grateful.