Back in 2020, I visited the slum where I used to live as a child and teenager, as part of my long process to increase the vibration of my city and my country. The experience was transformative and educational, and I was in high spirits through it all, but I still didn't stay very long because I had to visit other places nearby in the same trip. As you may see if you click on that link, I wholly thought that I'd never go there again, but I was wrong. A girl I dated recently did a service for me using a tool for ancestral exploration and told me that I should write some letters to my parents and siblings and also visit the slum again in order to let go of the historical load, so I prepared myself for months and this Thursday, on the second anniversary of that previous visit and under the auspices of that wonderful rainbow you see in that picture, I went there again to leave another, more powerful carving right where my house used to be.
It was a profoundly disheartening experience, which underscores the importance of my decision to do it. Throughout the journey, I was faced with the disillusion, sorrow, guilt, shame and anger of many people. They weren't outward or obvious with it, they simply emanated it. The subway and the streets were immersed in a subtle but deep fog of desperation, of the stubborn stoicism of humans living their looped lives chasing after money and the supposed stability it promises. On the way to the slum itself, I stumbled upon an old friend of the family and I was glad to see him apparently hale, but he was also despondent, didn't recognize me and quickly broke the conversation. As I crossed broken alleys and narrow staircases dimly lit by the overcast skies, I started feeling alienated, an outlander sticking out of the background, so I quickened my step, just wanting to fulfill my mission and get back home.
The slum, particularly the part where my dad's house used to be, seemed to be in an sorrier state than I remembered; mounts of detritus and rubble were now small hills with vegetation growing on them, the streets had fallen slightly more into disrepair and there were puddles of stagnant water in many places, although garbage was surprisingly (and blessedly) absent from the roads. The feeling of not belonging intensified with every step, as well as the sense of failure, shame and guilt. I met with another of my family's old friends, a woman who has lived there her entire life. She seemed glad to see me and asked me not to forget about her and the other people from my past. I promptly said that I never would and moved on to the spot where dad's house was. There's a building there with a garage and part of the original metal roof, someone put money into it but I don't know who. I sat nearby and read every letter I'd written, remembering my parents and my siblings, forgiving them and myself for past events, liberating them and myself from the chains of those memories, and blessing us all to continue on with our lives without such weight. Then I sought for a space in the building to put my carving and left. The silver lining was that I met a friend of my dad's who did recognize me and proudly told me that he was now the area's metalworker as my dad used to be. He offered his service and gave me his number, so at least the slum was wishing me farewell in a high note.
The return home was somewhat more challenging than the visit itself, because the burden of poverty weighed on me. I brushed the pain and sadness of living in a place like that, had to confront my memories and the anxiety for money since I have almost no liquidity right now and my reserves are nearly depleted. Doubts about my purpose and work emerged in strength and I felt like the visit was worthless. On top of that, back home I took a shower and sprayed some cologne just to feel better, and one of my sisters had a coughing fit which she exaggerated a bit for dramatic reasons (we've had a strained relationship of late,) so the guilt peaked for a moment, then decreased. I began the meditation that I do every time I place one of my Runes somewhere and the process of regaining harmony began.
More on that story in a follow-up post.
