El bucle de aprender/The learning loop

Because all true knowledge is carnal, dirty, or palpable: It seeps into your pores like mud, and no theory can wash it away afterward. The senses are bridges and also fires: They burn away certainty and leave fertile ashes.

Unlearning is the only way to avoid dying young. You have to forget the hand that taught you to extend only to greet, and learn to offer it empty, trembling, like someone who doesn't know if it will be received. You have to retrace the map others drew, erase the coordinates with your tongue, and then (only then) relearn to walk without asking where you're going. Unlearning hurts like pulling a healthy tooth; it hurts because it was properly in place, but it got in the way of biting into the new.

Relearning is that paradox of becoming a child again in the face of what you thought you had tamed: The rain, the rage, or the love that returns with another name and the same wound. Learning, relearning, and unlearning form a circular dance, a waltz without music where each step cancels the previous one and celebrates it at the same time.