The Listener

Listening and trust are the cornerstones of human communication. Among many other benefits, they enable us to reconnect with ourselves, helping us to feel loved and valued by life, others and ourselves.
The listener closes their eyes and opens themselves up to the other person's voice, hearing it with all their senses. There is no judgement, only humanity in action.
The person narrates their life story in their own words, sharing their life journey, the burdens they carry, the life lessons they have learned, their desires, their secrets, their guilt and their ‘unfinished questions’.
This story is then recorded and transcribed to become the narrator's memories, providing an opportunity for them to recognize and embrace themselves and to offer their loved ones the most valuable gift of all: their life story.
Each person can choose how to present their story: as a written chronicle, audio recording, images, and so on.

Sharing reflections and insights with people facing life-threatening illnesses, their loved ones and the professionals who work with them.
For a couple of hours, I will lead a lively discussion about my life experience with cancer, focusing on tenderness as the cornerstone of my healing. Through the metaphor of three hugs, I will share my story in the hope that it will inspire other people facing similar situations.
The main purpose of the talk is to enable us to share experiences, feel connected, express and receive tenderness, understand the importance of all these four things and learn how to practice them.

My dream

Oasis of Figuig 
(Morocco)

If someone told you to close your eyes and dream, what would you dream of? If someone asked you what dream you would like to fulfill in this life, what would you say? And, if you were told you had three months to live, would you follow a dream?
I haven’t got a clue. In the morning, I usually wake up without remembering my dreams, finding it difficult to get up, and if there is something I want at that time, it is to sleep peacefully, to feel the pleasure of being in bed, tossing and turning between the sheets, indulging myself, without any time constraints, and perhaps dreaming something beautiful. There are several mindfulness exercises that make it easier to sleep. I have practiced them on occasion, and they have transported me to a dreamlike journey.
I close my eyes and ask myself: Do I have a dream? Do I want to have one? Can I have one?
5:42 a.m., I hear the echoing song of the muezzins, it is heavenly pleasant, just like my dream, and I continue peacefully in my deep sleep. I wake up at 6:30 a.m. when the sky is already intensely blue. I am on a terrace in the red medina of Marrakech. I am sleeping on a blanket with three other women, scantily clad, enjoying the coolness of the early morning. My companions are gently tossing and turning with the rhythm of their warm erotism inside their dreams.
The sounds of the waking day arrive: cars, street vendors' voices, and a late rooster crowing in the distance. Then I smell the sublime scent of that mixture of sweet freshness of green tea with mint that Saad, the woman's mother, prepares in the kitchen.
In silence, we pour ourselves a small cup, and I am intoxicated by the aroma. The other women arrive, bringing bread, oil, olives, and honey. What paradise! We share the food, laughter, and plans. Fatima plans to take care of the palm trees and organize the dates harvest. Mariam is eager to start Law school, and Naira is plotting how to meet her love. I tell them about my life as a traveler. Two days ago, I fell asleep in Hebron. I tell them that I didn't intend to spend the night there, because in those lands, during the darkness, the roads change direction, making it incredibly difficult to intuit where life's path lies.
But I was caught by curfew in a house and ended up spending the night there. Over black tea and a mixture of roasted nuts, we talked at length about the value of the land, the sacred olive trees, dignity, and the salty smell of the sea.

Oasis of Faiyun
(Eygipt)

Mariam, thoughtful, asks me if I saw justice there. I tell her that I don't know, that I witnessed how difficult it was for some people to feel dignity and how I think it can be regained with a little tenderness. Amidst shootings and battles, I received hugs and people shared their lives with me. I show her the collection of photographs they gave me so that even though we can't write or call each other, the photos will remind us of their presence.
Today I am in this red earth, with the most delicious sweet tea in the world. I will stay here for a while, long enough to love this place so much that I don't want to leave, and at the same time to love it so much that I am able to take it with me, and then I will continue walking. Fatima suggests I go with her to the palm grove and tells me that if I try her dates, it won't be so clear to me that I have to leave.