Inspir@migas, Sacred Whispers by AnaLo

A few days ago, I went to the photocopy shop. I had been there a few times before, but not enough to establish a connection with the woman who runs it. She greeted me with the polite efficiency of someone who has seen many customers but has little reason to remember their faces. As she began to check the documents I needed printed, the air between us was filled with the small talk of strangers. But then, like a sudden downpour interrupting a quiet afternoon, her words shifted. She spoke of how her head was "exploding" from trying to read the Official State Gazette (BOE). Health regulations, she explained, especially those concerning specialist appointments, had become a labyrinth she couldn’t navigate. Her frustration soon turned into something deeper, more personal. She told me about the challenges her eight-year-old son was facing, the struggles to secure proper care for him, and how these battles were consuming her family’s life. Her voice trembled slightly, not with tears...

  There are days when I look at the world and it feels as though something has cracked open inside me. It’s not the sharp crack of breaking glass but the slow fracture of something old, something that has carried too much weight for too long. I’ll be honest: I don’t always know how to name this ache, this quiet mourning that rises in the spaces between conversations and headlines. It’s the heaviness of a shared loneliness—as if we’ve all forgotten how to see one another, how to know one another, and perhaps even how to see ourselves. I think of the times I’ve felt this most. I am the one who walks with my head up, smiling at strangers, letting my eyes meet theirs even when they don’t look back. I don’t do it for the smiles returned, though they are a gift when they come. I do it because I want to feel connected. I want to feel as though, even for a moment, we remember we belong to one another. Some look startled, uncomfortably shifting their gaze as if being seen is too ...

This week, I revisited the  Matrix  saga. I had always known the films were fascinating and profound, but this time I approached them with a different perspective, looking for echoes of  A Course in Miracles  (ACIM) within the scenes and dialogues. What I discovered was nothing short of revelatory: each character, situation, and decision is steeped in symbolism that resonates deeply with the teachings of the Course. It is as if the films serve as a modern parable of spiritual awakening, a story that mirrors the journey we all take to remember who we truly are. The Matrix  is more than just a science fiction narrative; it is an invitation to question the reality we perceive, to dismantle the illusions that bind us, and, ultimately, to awaken to Love. As I re-watched the films, I couldn’t help but see how the characters and situations reflect our own spiritual journeys, journeys in which the Course guides and accompanies us as a faithful companion. The Matrix: The...

A few days ago, I had a session with a teacher of   A Course in Miracles   that dismantled one of the deepest beliefs I have carried for years. From the start, it was a transformative encounter, different from any I had experienced before. His approach was unlike that of other teachers I have met, and this made me uneasy. He did not have the familiar tools that usually accompany me in the healing process. But what happened was an unexpected gift, something that began to dismantle the barriers of my Ego from the very first moment. I have always had an internal doubt about certain aspects of the Course, especially when it comes to psychotherapy. I have had sessions with other teachers, following their suggested practices and guidelines, but I never experienced that transformative peace that so many speak of. It’s not that I doubt the method; I just haven’t managed to see it clearly. Some teachers say this is Ego resistance. These concerns were swirling in my mind before the sess...