From Childhood Visions to Deep Questioning

I enjoyed a childhood full of adventures and curiosity, questioning everything that felt off within my family, at school, and at the club. When I was very young, I began to see some shadows in the house, but of course, my mother told me I was dreaming — yet I was sure I wasn’t: I saw them while awake. After those early visions, before I turned five, I didn’t see or perceive beings from other dimensions again until adulthood.

I loved reading, and I fondly remember a blue-covered book with golden letters that was at my grandmother Lela’s house, which talked about the creation of the universe. I started looking at it before I learned to read; just the pictures fascinated me and transported me to those planets. Later, I read it several times because some parts about the universe’s creation explained in the Big Bang theory didn’t quite make sense to me. Later, in school, my questioning continued, especially in catechism classes since I attended Catholic schools from ages 5 to 17. I remember a fourth-grade catechism class where we were told God created Adam and Eve, and I raised my hand to say that wasn’t true—that Darwin’s theory says humans come from monkeys. I was called aside during recess and told not to make those comments in class. I still remember the anger and frustration of feeling that what was taught made no sense, but I accepted that, out of respect for my classmates, I shouldn’t question the teacher anymore.

I was part of the last generation to grow up without screens: I played on the sidewalk with neighborhood friends, and also alone. I really enjoyed playing by myself in the yard, always with water games; I was also the first to help at home with chores involving water, like washing dishes, cleaning the bathroom, or any task that might get me wet. I also loved, in my moments alone, to look at the stars. More than once, I would disappear from home at night and climb onto the roof to watch the stars for hours—searching for satellites, comets, shooting stars...

I was always a very good student, with some behavioral problems, but a straight A in other subjects. I had several extracurricular activities, both sports and arts; my schedule was full. Also, in my free time, I loved investigating anything that sparked my curiosity. That’s how, at 11 years old, I started researching Egypt. Later, with a group of classmates, we presented a science project called “The Mysteries of Egypt” to compete in contests; I worked on this project for two years: reading books, studying images, and presenting it at different stages of the national science contest. We reached the provincial stage, where the judges deducted points because we were affirming ideas like extraterrestrial help in building the pyramids, which lacked scientific value and were pure fantasy.

During my childhood, I was a fighter for truth; I had a natural lie detector and didn’t hesitate to tell family members, friends, and even strangers when what they said wasn’t true. I remember, when I was very little, asking my uncle if he smoked; he always told me no, until one day, while looking for something among his things, I found a hidden pack of cigarettes. I was so angry that I broke each cigarette one by one and then put them back in the pack. Later, I confronted him for lying to me.

The rebellion of puberty led me to question the system; I read Che Guevara, Marx, and books of poetry. I began writing poems and stories, which I submitted to contests. In one of those contests, which I won, I presented a poem called “Sun of my days, Moon of my nights,” a prelude to everything that would come after. Later, as a teenager at 15, I began singing, playing guitar, and writing songs. Most of them were love songs, romantic; honestly, I didn’t question Disney movies at that time—I accepted them as the Bible of romantic love. And that’s where a long journey of being a hopeless romantic began: learning and evolving over many years.

Then came university. I moved alone to another city to study Political Science at the University of Cuyo (public) and Advertising at the private university Juan Agustín Maza. I chose Political Science because I wanted to change the world, and Advertising to boost my creativity. I attended both universities. After a while, a Political Science professor spoke to all us leftist dreamers: he told us we were wasting our time, that politics doesn’t need dreamers, and that those who know how to navigate a corrupt world always win. That was my last day studying Political Science; the disappointment and frustration were so great that I never stepped foot in that faculty again. Maybe I also lacked the conviction to pursue my ideas of social change and finding a better way to live.

I stayed with just one university degree: I completed the Advertising Technician program, then a Bachelor’s in Social Communication. Of course, I questioned the marketing courses, saying they were unethical and debating whether marketing helps people choose brands of truly necessary products or, on the contrary, creates needs that don’t exist to sell and profit.

In the last years of university, I started again, at the public university, a Bachelor’s in Latin American Popular Music with a specialty in singing, a degree I pursued until the third year. Tango was the style I resonated with most, perhaps because I had come from listening to national rock, and being urban styles, I felt more comfortable. I performed a few concerts singing tango.

Once I graduated with a Bachelor’s in Social Communication, I felt at peace, like someone who has completed a chapter in the manual of life, and at the same time, I felt free. I put the diploma in the closet and went traveling. When my mother read me Polito the Traveling Penguin three years earlier, she didn’t know what she was doing; it became my favorite childhood book, engraved in my unconscious. As an adult, as soon as I became financially independent, I just wanted to travel the world, live in different cities and countries, learn about cultures, and finally become a citizen of the world.

In my early experiences traveling and searching for existential answers, I encountered spirituality tools for the first time: Reiki was the first energy therapy to enter my life. But that deserves another chapter.