Dealing With Contrast(es)
Every song that I release this year is done while I navigate through a big life event; events that we all go though them eventually. Something happens that has a profound impact in us, our lives, even who we are.
Usually these events happen separately, but there are times when life just feels like “one damn thing after another” (a quote usually atributed to Winston Churchill but that’s actually from a poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay), and that’s the perfect description of 2025 for me so far.
My great friend and former therapist had been struggling with cancer for a while. She had bad and better moments, and even though we usually talked by voice messages as we were living in different cities, I could always tell by her voice how she was doing.
When I got the news that she had passed away, exactly the same day as I was exporting the final version of my song Contraste, I played her last voice message, sent one month ago. And there it was, the weakness I had felt, caused by the disease and the supposed cure as well (she was doing chemo).
She got worse at the same time my mom did. As she was struggling with her health, I focused in helping my mom. Part of me feels bad for not being there for her. But I also know I did my best, and that she chose to live her final days surrounded only by her closed ones and herself.
But what I really want to talk about here are not her final days. I want to talk about how special this soul is, and how fortunate I feel for having met someone like her.
In my relationship, things were getting worse and worse. I didn’t know how to communicate and he would just simply not even try. I’ve been asking for us to do couple’s therapy for half a year, but with no avail.
I didn’t know what else to do. So I decided to do therapy myself. Luísa was the partner of a great friend of mine, and she did something called holistic therapy. I decided to give it a try.
At first I had a hard time opening up about my relationship, so I started talking about how I was having a hard time with my dad. Even living far away, everytime we talked on the phone there was tension and I would end up feeling frustrated, unheard and angry. There were other issues going on that were causing this, but I don’t want to get into details. Luísa said a sentence in that very first appointment that shaked everything I tought I knew. Even without me mentioning it, she went straight to what was causing all the issues.
I remember getting out of there confused, with a massive headache for all the information she gave me, but also fully humbled. I understood I had a long way to go, and that she was the right person to help me out on that journey.
She became so much more than just a therapist or guide. Her appointments were bilateral. She would share almost so much of her life as I would share of mine. She told me stories of her Past, life experiences, and we both learned so much with each other. Eventually the appointments ceased and we would just meet as friends.
Looking back now, to the last time I saw her and went to her house, she was already going away in a sense. But we have such a hard time accepting death. We try to stay optimistic, we try to “fix” it, deny it. I saw and felt how sick she was, how weak her body was. But she was saying chemo was getting good results, and I wanted to stay optimistic with her. She was really bored to stay home (she couldn’t leave as her immune system was compromised), so I tried to suggest solutions so she could bring a bit of Nature inside.
I wish I could have been more focused on her, on her journey. Her beautiful eyes. Her delicate hands. Her warm embrace. But we always have so much going on, right? On that time I was dealing with a legal action against a real estate agency.
I guess this was her final lesson to me, her final reminder: live every moment fully, with your full attention. Don’t let your mind contaminate moments with thoughts about other things.
Contraste, available everywhere today. Listen to it here.
