.And one day, the infamous illness arrives at our inner door, affecting the body, which is our means of experiencing this dimension. The first reaction is… 'I'm going to die,' 'I wanted to live a little longer to experience this and that…'
It is the disease that comes to wake us up from that dream in which we live like machines, running from one place to another, automatons in the daily routine of work and the character we 'wear'.
And when this "friend" Illness arrives, it's wise to listen to it and get to work. It always comes to tell us something about ourselves, just like the thoughts that arise during meditation. The best thing we can do is be present, open to its messages, observing and acting. Now, as the Tao Te Ching would tell you, it's time to act, but not from the fear of dying, but from calm, faith, and the fullness of your center.
What is this illness telling me? Which organ is affected? What emotion is it hiding? Illness is like being suddenly enrolled in an intensive course by Mother Life, starting the moment we register. It compels us to focus on multiple aspects of our lives. The emotions that may have triggered the illness are the ones we need to consider: feel them, acknowledge them, and release them through awareness. It's a powerful decision to let go of everything that isn't serving us. We must feel it intensely within; it's a profound act of self-love.
Very often, we lead a life that doesn't respect our true nature, or a job we don't enjoy, and sometimes even a partner who seems to have been chosen more by chance than by heart. And what happens? Even though we begin to realize it, we stay there day after day, for months, years, until… until we get sick, if we're lucky! Because illness is that "friend" that life sends us to wake us up, to remind us that perhaps it's possible to live differently. Yes, if we're lucky, because in the worst-case scenario, we continue like this until death without any opportunities for change appearing.
To experience illness in this way, with calm and acceptance of the lessons it brings, a consistent practice is essential—one that transports you to that place, to that inner state. And if the illness limits my movement, I meditate and breathe consciously, bringing oxygen, energy, and presence to where it's most needed. I had a friend who, while working at a port, fell from a great height, fracturing several parts of his body. Immobilized in a hospital bed, he breathed consciously, intending that each exhalation would reach every corner of his body, every broken bone, to promote healing. His recovery was rapid and, according to the doctors, "miraculous.".
Illness often requires difficult decisions. Which path do I choose?
I find refuge in practice: fear fades with meditation, pranayama, and a good yoga sequence; doubts dissipate, and thus I know what needs to be done. Your return home, to your inner self, is a refuge that allows you to remember who you truly are and face difficulties with a smile, hope, love, and compassion. This openness to transformation, to the change that life requires of us, is the necessary attitude for us to learn from illness.
Developing consistent daily practices has the power to strengthen us and prepare us for any challenge or for the attention that evolution requires. In my book, "My Daily Practices," I would like to inspire you to explore a daily routine of inner practices, one that resonates most with you right now. The key is that it feels easy, because remember that the Tao invites you to a life of "effortless effort," which means not wasting energy unnecessarily. A small initial effort, followed by a natural flow along the way. Find your daily routine to face any challenge, or contact me so I can guide you in creating a routine that's more suitable for you.
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