One way ticket to the stars

Last September I bought a one-way ticket to Sao Paulo. I was going to help my father during a very delicate operation in his already mended heart. We wouldn't know how long the recovery would take, how he(and we) would react, and so on.

We spent 21 days there, in between intensive care unit comes and goes, loads of stress and some family matters. Convinced by my elder sister, I decided to see an astrologist, right there, in big ol' Sao Paulo, Brazil's largest city (I think Latin America's largest metropolis).

It was a rainy Saturday morning. I left the hotel early and got a taxi to the lady's apartment. During one and a half hour, I listened to how it was better not to react to this emotional tsunami, it would simply hurt less. The year was supposed to be messed up, with creepy moments still to come, and the best I should do was to just hang in there.

Moons, planets, houses and numbers I couldn't really understand were gravitating there on our talk — when under stress I tend to think strangely, I listen to myself as if I was under water (don't ask) and pay low attention to some info. Among all that, her deep, gravelly voice said: "you should write. I see here you love arts, you fancy languages, you need some expression channel. Have you thought about blogging?" I hadn't.

So here I am. Starting a new project in a brand new year. All due to this one-way ticket to the stars… of self knowledge.