A palestra que não aconteceu. (não traduzido)

Egregore.


Please, raise your hand if you don’t know what an egregore is.


OK...thank you!


According to the statistics, I shouldn't be on a TEDx stage right now.


Just one thing: I volunteered with this amazing team, so it’s a great honor to be here.


It’s the first time I’m sitting at this event.


But still working...


According to the statistics for that kind of hemorrhagic stroke, I should be dead or like a cabbage.


A priest was at my bedside for the anointing of the sick.


The prices for the the funeral procedures was checked.

My wife got my clothes from the hospital in a plastic bag.


She heard from a doctor that nothing could be done anymore.


So she asked some friends in a WhatsApp group to visualize me waking up.


It was a group that she created to spread news quickly and easier.


From some friends, the group went over a hundred people.


Over a hundred people dedicated at least one thought to me.


Some of them prayed, others only thought for a moment.


Friends from different phases of my life, childhood friends, friends from university...


...friends from work, friends of friends, friends living in different parts of the world.


They created an egregore.


Egregore is a spiritual strength from mental and emotional energies of people gathered in a group.


In this case, it was a WhatsApp group.


It is the only group I don’t dare to turn the notifications off.


Most of the people are still there in the group.


I Keep sharing all my progress with them.


We even create new egregores sometimes.



A doctor got down in front of my wheelchair, and said: it is going to take a long time.


I tried to escape many times from that crazy hospital;


On my fourth try, I managed to escape without nobody noticed.


I ran as fast as I could to meet my wife near the Mercado da Ribeira.


We were in Lisbon, by the way. She was waiting for me.


We took half of an ecstasy pill each, bought a bottle of wine and went for a walking in the beautiful night of Lisbon.


Yellow and old lights reflecting on the traditional little stones on the floor of the sidewalks. Clothes hanging in front of some windows and balconies.


Ecstasy and alcohol: a very bad combination.


We walked and chatted a lot, went home and fell asleep together.


I open my eyes and wake up in a hospital.


Someone comes up and say: hi, you are in a hospital. You had a hemorrhagic stroke.


Nobody told me that ecstasy with wine could do be that bad.




It was a dream, of course. One of many absurd dreams I had during coma.


But how to explain the doctor crouched in front of my wheelchair if I was dying and absolutely no one knew that I would sit in a wheelchair.


A wheelchair when not even the doctors knew what would happen to me or what the consequences from the stroke would remain.


In fact, one doctor knew: he got down in front of my wheelchair and said: it is going to take a long time.



While this doctor tells me it would be a long recovery, the doctors in this life were waiting for my death.


But the clot in my brain stem not only stopped growing, it started to shrink.


egregore?


just a point out of the statistical curve?


A nurse said it was a miracle. A nurse said that.


I still really don’t know what I believe in.


There were several ischemic damages in the occipital lobe, in the cerebellum and a bleeding in the brain stem.


Today, my body does not tell a true story.


I mean...


My appearance does not tell a true story.

People see a wheelchair but the wheelchair is not my biggest problem.


It's a great solution, actually.


Well, nobody told me that a wheelchair makes the belly grow..


This is a real problem about wheelchairs.


Bigger issues are tetra-ataxia, half-body sensorially turned off- the left half, noises in the head a hundred percent of the time, nystagmus - which means a shaky vision, diplopia - which means an image for each eye, loss of part of the hearing.


I also lost my balance. But when I say I lost my balance, "balance" is the word that comes closest to what I lost.


A therapist said that my problem is lack of cerebellum, not just balance.


Even lying there is no balance. Can you imagine that?


My experience of trying to stand up reminds me of another crazy dream I had during coma.


Again, absolutely no one knew what would happen to me if I survive.


I had strong vertigo while sitting on the edge of a hospital skylight.


It was that same crazy hospital, in which people walked on the walls.


I wanted to walk like that too, but the dizziness and fear of falling wouldn't let me stand and walk.


Someone sits next to me and whispers in my ear: your brain is getting in the way of thinking.


Today, whenever I try to stand up and feel the vertigo, I remember that message.


I don't know if it was a dream or messages from other side. I don't know if an egregore saved me, if it was just luck or a miracle.


But one thing is becoming clearer to me, especially now, after this episode: we don't know much about life. We know nothing, actually.


We invent things to say we know something, but it all may end in a blink.


Your eyes close and the story ends. And nobody knows what happens next.


I could say that I was in some parallel reality. But someone could say "you were just high on medical drugs".


Who knows?




The word life itself is a cliché.


I’m an advertisement guy, I know what I'm talking about. If a sentence starts with the word “life”, it tends to be a cliché, too.


Let's be a bit cliché now.


I would like to ask you to, please close your eyes.


Please don't die.


I'll count to three and say “life is ...” and you, with your eyes closed, will complete this sentence out loud so that I can hear you.


Don't forget: eyes closed, out loud. You will have two seconds to say something and complete the sentence.


Eyes closed, loud voice. Two seconds.


One, two, life is ...


In a book called “The Open Focus Brain”, you can find that quote:


“It will be a watershed moment in human evolution when we are able to pay attention to how we pay attention, and take personal responsibility for the creation of our own realities.”


You probably captured with your attention different meanings for life.


And they are all correct, for sure.


For me, life is what we choose to pay attention to.


In my case, for instance, my body became a daily psychological torture...


...if I allow it.


I could pay attention to the noises in my head.


I could pay attention to all the problems that life has brought me.


You can pay attention to the bad things. Will this make life easier?


We better pay attention to the good things that life brings every single moment.


Like this moment.


It’s magical from here.


It should be a miracle for you, too.


I don't know if I dreamed or if I was in another reality.


I don't know why life brought me the problems I have today.


But I'm pretty sure that life is what we choose to pay attention to.


Danke sehr!


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