CreaSentisciente

It must have happened on May 27, maybe by that moment it was already May 28. I know it was nighttime. However, it wasn’t until the 29th that I wrote it down. That night I had been crying, and when I finished, I wrote the following in my personal diary:

May 29, 2024. Last night I found sketches of a pattern shaped like a witch. They are the right size for a doll. A witch-doll. I don’t know what I was going to do with them. I think we never fully acknowledged all her creative potential. And after all these years, it turned out that I did remember how to create sublime things. Things that came straight from the soul. I don’t remember if I took the notebooks out of the wardrobe on Sunday or Monday. But it doesn’t matter. After all, almost a whole year has passed, and I hadn’t realized all this.

As I write these lines, I am aware that if I had considered drafting this article with some kind of filter, I would be completely missing the purpose of why we are here and now, reading this. And writing this article has been the inspiration that has motivated my intention to create this website.

Let’s see…

This world is filled with cries (and I’m sure with witches too). No one can escape the fact that this small world overflows with cries and tears. Tears are shed everywhere. We can find cries everywhere for almost anything imaginable… like when my side wins, or when yours loses; for the pain you cause me, or for the harm I do to you; for those who arrive, or for those who leave; for the screams that are given, and for the kisses that are lost… But the most horrible and ugly tears of all that could exist are the ones shed because I was first. What a horrendous thing!

But no, that night I wasn’t crying for any of this. Not at all. I was crying for the Love we felt. Yes, you can cry out of Love. Those tears that arise from the deepest essence of each one of us when a true fact is revealed before your eyes, and you understand that what had been happening was exactly what needed to happen for a greater good. Love and Evolution.

Seven and a half months

That was the time my father took to accompany my mother.

Four years ago, my mother was diagnosed with MCI (mild cognitive impairment). Once a year, I accompanied her to the hospital for psychometric tests to evaluate her condition and the evolution of her clinical picture. During the first three years, I always received the same response from her doctor: ‘The data tells us that your mother will eventually develop dementia (I believe they called it fronto-temporal dementia) but we are not at that stage yet.’ After the last psychometric exam at the end of 2022, she warned me: ‘If next year things remain the same, we will have to discharge her because dementia should have been present in four years; however, your mother is still the same as at the beginning, and we cannot continue the check-ups if there is no deterioration’ (although they never officially discharged her because there wasn’t enough time).

A little earlier than today but in another place, and about this same matter of my mother and her MCI, I had already written:

I am convinced (despite the many discrepancies I may encounter regarding this matter) that this ‘non-development’ is due to ‘interflow.’ Although this is a topic I will leave pending for later. For another place and another time.

Well, this place and this moment are ideal to give a little push to this concept of ‘interflow.’ Born from the pattern of a doll shaped like a witch.

I had been accompanying my mother during those four years, and there were good moments and bad moments; some very good, and others, very bad. But during those times, sometimes, and curiously when we were alone, I would tell her the story of a tale. A tale that was born from my own hand.

But I wasn’t talking to her about the story to help her. No, that wasn’t it. I’m not ashamed to admit it. At those moments during those conversations, it was I who needed to talk about that story, because I was the one who needed to ‘know what I felt.’ Although you may believe it, the truth is that it is not at all easy to know what one feels. And my mother helped me without knowing it; without her knowing, and of course, without me knowing it either. And she did this because she sat down to listen without judging the story of the tale. A story that was not telling any fiction, no matter how diverse the characters may seem. But it was a story in which I was pouring in and infusing all my essence, all my soul, all my energy.

For those who have read the tale, it is unnecessary to say that while the entire story overflows with Love with a capital L, an everlasting Love for each and every one of the magical creatures that appear, the one from the Witch of the Tale is particularly special. Because that’s how Evolution is. I used to tell my mother the story in bits and pieces. And I suppose she felt it that way too, although the fact is she never got to read the Tale. Because she lacked the time. Or maybe not. Who knows.

The thing is…

And this is the reason why we are here, that during all these years of cognitive decline and psychometric tests, my mother, who had been a woman with enormous manual skills, had completely lost the desire and passion for making and creating things, new things that she always loved to do (crafts, sewing, tailoring, cooking…), and had developed an almost complete apathy for life. And this was extremely frustrating and exhausting for me. However, despite feeling like running away, I stayed with her. Until one fine day she fell ill for another reason unrelated to this, and had to undergo a digestive operation, and ended up passing away due to a postoperative complication…

Because, of course, these things are naturally part of chance. Fruits of coincidence.

Although, well, those people who already know me or know what I do and write, understand that deep down, I believe that words like ‘chance’ and ‘randomness’ are just ways of referring to those aspects of Evolution that we can’t understand ‘at the level of detail.’ And this is very important because that’s what it’s about. Of course, we understand things that we can’t explain, but we don’t reach the level of detail. We don’t know how to describe the process. In other words, we are not able to explain the why. And that’s it.

But the why of things is not as important as they tell us…

That night in May, I was crying because I understood (without going into detail) that the ‘interflow’ truly exists. That for years… she and I were mutually fostering an exchange of energy that helped me ‘know what I felt’, and helped her prove to herself that nothing was actually wrong. And her soul will show her this again when she returns. Because we all return at some point.

And so it was that on a day, May 29, 2024, I sat down to take notes in my personal journal about what I had discovered a couple of nights before. And I came to the conclusion that I should share and show this little event to those who feel interested in it.

This website has been created as a tribute to her, and to all the tears born from the Love we feel, and of course, to all the good and beautiful Witches of this world who drive the Evolution of the soul.

Let it be so.

The concept of ‘interflow’ refers to all the energy that is constantly in motion. A coincidence of any nature, regardless of whether it is pleasant or unpleasant, and even if we experience pain or suffering (here lies the importance of ‘non-intention’) is always a window or a slit into Evolution. It occurs with a meeting or collision (this is indifferent) and at that moment, the energy flows in as many directions as there are elements that have coincided. Sometimes, the energy may transform into matter if the evolutionary process requires it. Its operation consists of each participating element in the meeting or collision receiving exactly what it needs to continue the process of Evolution. The ‘interflow’ has nothing to do with what is desired or wanted. It is also not optional; it is an ‘inevitable concession.’

Translated from pages 39-40 of «203 Anotaciones (caóticas) de un soñador entrenado»