Retales to Demiàn

During the summer I had the opportunity to read a book by Jorge Bucay called "Recuentos para Demiàn". It`s full of stories, annecdotes, jokes and tales, which belong to different backgrounds and cultures and in some cases they are the result of the author`s own imagination. In order to give to all this material a proper context, at the beginning and end of each chapter there is always an exchange of ideas and concepts between the therapist and the patient (Demiàn).
I was hooked by the book since the first page. I practicelly didn`t know anything about Bucay`s therepeutic methods or techniques, so I was surprised (and delighted) to discover that the format of the book wasn`t pure coincidence or just a literary divice, but the way in which the author daily works with his patients.
Demiàn is the character that I liked the most and felt identyfied with. The therapist, on the other hand, is not always easy to follow. He has a sort of code that, even though it doesn`t have anything to do with scientific terminology, it does say a lot. That`s when Demiàn, the esceptic but also innocent patient gets his own conclusions.
I`ve always been interested in psychology, and despite I know that many people don`t believe in them, I do think that they are especially trainned yo be the shoulder that evereyone needs aside from time to time.
In the case of the book, is the professional the one that gives rythm and pace to each session. Demiàn takes his time, but in the end he`s usually able to prove to Jorge -and to himself- that he has learnt something new. And that`s precisely the sensation I experimented trough the book: a sensation of constant growth.
Nevertheless, not everything is perfect; there werw fragments in which Demiàn felt frustrated, and so did I, but I think it`s the kind of frustration that in a way or the other oblishes the you to get over and go on.
Ireally enjoyed reading this whole book that I found so refreshing and I`m looking forward to read something else about Bucay.

How is like to loose a person:

There used to be a person in my life who defined herself as a warrior, and so she was. during her entire life her main purpode wae to love, help and support all the ones who were around her. She had many friends that discovered in her a simple but complete, honest person. For me she was the ultimate person I wanted to be like. She was my friend and in many ocassions my guide too.
This person, my aunt, who had fought in different battles had one left to go through; this was her personal confrontation against cancer.
Since the very moment we found out what was happening to her, we turned into completely different people. We would constantly move around her like ghosts, trying to deliver encouriging messages that sounded (and felt) like ice when they were produced. On those ocassions she was the one who ended up conforting ue. When it became obvious that the end was close and it was inevitable, my aunt was exausted. Now I clearly see that dhe had understood a long time before we did, that denying was much worsetahn accepting.
In the end cancer won; my aunt left us a cold morning in October, 13 years ago. I still remember her last moments alive. She couldn´t open her eyes and I would dare to day that she wasn´t with us any longer. I guess she was making a last trip, visiting faces and places. There was a final moment when she led out a deep sigh and we understood: my aunt had just left this world after 57 years. Even when life had taken away her chances of having children, I know, I feel that her legacy will always be present an all of us: her family.