When suffering stops governing

For a long time, I believed my sufferings were only mine.

Then I looked more closely at my family history.

Dramas. Losses. Secrets. Deaths.

Invisible loyalties, passed on unnamed, like ghosts.

I call it the invisible pact.

What we carry without having consented. What governs our choices without our knowing it.

Our health can suffer for it. Ayurveda actually sees illness as an imbalance — a loss of harmony with the laws of nature.

I used to think I could "get rid" of my family history. I looked outside myself. That history was heavy, cumbersome.

Today, my perspective has changed. I turned inward. I saw my own fears.

My intention is no longer to shed the past, but to loosen its grip — to stop letting it hold the reins of my life.

That comes through a daily practice. Concrete. To finally live in accord with myself. No longer with my ancestors.

2026 is the year I take my life back in hand. A transformative health journey, which I lead fully.

For a long time, I was at war with myself, in combat mode. That's what I had learned.

I fell. I got back up. Again. And again.

Over time, it became exhausting — for my body, for my system.

My body always knew before my mind. Maybe that's why I took this path of the body.

Neuroplasticity confirms this today: our neural pathways are never fixed. What has been imprinted can be rewritten.

At 14, I had read a book about the mental side of tennis that already said this. I won my match that day, thanks to that fresh idea.

Then my family conditionings took over again. I didn't yet know the strength of the family collective unconscious.

Today, I know we can create new trajectories. Freed from the system.

In my journey, I practice collective shamanic rituals and energetic bodywork. It's concrete.

The brain doesn't tell the difference between a real gesture and a gesture repeated in a symbolic setting — it's the same principle behind mental preparation for elite athletes: visualizing the field, repeating the right moves, before competition.

It also doesn't tell the difference between "don't go that way" and "go that way." It retains the direction, not the negation.

So I choose my directions. Toward what I want to see happen — beautiful, positive, for me and for others. Without settling for crumbs.

I've known the state of grace — flow — several times. Especially in sport.

That's not survival. Survival carries excessive, counterproductive stress. We end up identifying with it — to the point of dissociating from our own body, no longer feeling the tension living within us. We then confuse our personality with our soul.

But the opposite exists too. Under too little challenge, we wither just the same.

I've known both extremes. The middle ground, though, was exceptional. I want it to become a grace in my life.

Continuing to learn, with an open mind. Experimenting with the body.

A pattern once seen already starts losing its power.

I no longer seek to forget my history. I seek to live from what is alive within it.

Because it isn't only suffering that gets passed down.

Creativity is passed down. Courage is passed down. The capacity to get back up is passed down.

I have a firm intention to free myself from the invisible pact. That happens through relationships — those that hold up a mirror to me, and show me where wounds still govern my life.

Not to become someone else.

To find again what, in me, has never been wounded. And to create from that part.