Seven - I'm just a stupid man

Credits

SYNOPSIS

Seven is revelation and contradiction. Seven is passion and eroticism. Seven can irritate or move. Seven has no rules, except the rule of not having any. Seven has a simple, often intimate language. It can be subject to criticism, opinions and different thoughts.

Or… you will fall in love with it.

A series of synchronicities linked to two letters and a message found in an old book take the hero to Andalusia, as he feels the need to put a distance between himself and the places and the people he knows. This is where his journey starts.

He crosses the whole of Spain on foot, with the curiosity of finding out where a series of apparently casual events will lead him, deciphering a language which goes beyond words.

Every event has a meaning, and in our everyday life there are clues that deserve being more closely observed, as though they were an aid to find the sense of connection between one event and another.

On his journey he meets Steve. Through regressive hypnosis he guides him back to the 1950s and it is thanks to this that he realizes where events are leading him, because the origin of what happens in the present has to be sought in the roots of the past.

He relives a love story which lasted one evening, where the fusion of minds and bodies goes beyond attraction and eroticism, to the point of indelibly marking the soul and wishing to find that passion left in limbo in the past, to experience it in real life. But when and how can it be recognized?

The synchronicities show him other clues. They bring him face to face with people identical to others, so that he learns the legend according to which each of us has seven lookalikes scattered around the world.

Thanks to a meeting with an archaeologist, the existence of manuscripts from the third century kept secret is revealed to him, in which the dawn of this legend is revealed. An overwhelming truth about the origins of the Church which has been hidden to us for two thousand years emerges from these documents. They strongly challenge what until now they have tried to make take root in our minds.

It is a great revelation for the whole world, and could spark off a great rebellion of the faith by the people if it were to disclosed.

Lastly, the two letters, the hypnosis and the manuscript lead the hero to the noblest purpose in his regard :

to the unexpected revelation.

Introduction 

When I am on the road, my thoughts run quickly, strongly, deeply: they are ideas which flood my mind as though I were reading the finest book ever written. Then, when I pick up a pen, it is as though those thoughts were fearful of coming out. The pen makes them shy, whilst life encourages them.

Writing gives me the sensation of walking in the street naked, in particular when I know that someone else will read about me.

I am not a writer at all, but I have made an effort to find the words. Those words which put one after another create a combination of emotions, of states of mind, which usually only life can convey in all their nuances.

To you, whose name is written on a rock on the cliffs of Finisterre

I - FREEDOM

Man believes he wants freedom. In actual fact, he is very afraid of it. Why? Because freedom makes him take decisions, and decisions mean risks,

Erich Fromm

What does every human being aspire to?

Even more than happiness, wealth and love, it is his freedom that he wishes for!

What is its real meaning? When do I associate an emotion with this word? I could ask millions of people and yet their answers would all be completely different. Each person has a concept of their own according to their experience. Some could say the freedom to profess a faith or a belief, freedom for a prisoner, freedom of thought and expression, freedom to act, and for others… to love.

My highest concept of this word is to do and to say, at the exact time when I want to do and say something specific. The freedom of being.

I would like to find the courage to follow my instinct and follow freedom. Total and gratifying freedom. It is a gift that few possess, or to put it better, few have the courage of being. If we have only experimented with it, we are immediately singled out and considered mad, because we have broken out of the usual patterns. I would like freedom that is not given by external success, but internal victories. Those who possess it can be recognized by looking into their eyes, the mirror of the soul, and from what they emanate. What they convey being close to them is a sense of gratification, completeness and well-being.

Freedom is fantasy and creativity. It is forgiveness and truth. At times delusions and at others it is yielding to temptation.

Freedom entails risks and fears to be overcome, in a world that is now full of imposed rules or camouflaged rules, that can instil fear into any of our actions.

Each of us aspires to interior well-being, but often it seems to turn its back on us. It is not like that at all! Unconsciously, we are the ones who turn our backs.

We believe that we think with our minds, but we are overwhelmed by news that guides us, making us believe in free will.

We are submerged by news about the worst that happens in life, and this means that fear increases in facing up to everyday life, creating unhappiness which yearns for a better future. We are manipulated and conditions in focusing on every negative event or on what we do not have, creating in us a sense of latent unhappiness, of delusion and inferiority if we do not have a specific product or are not in a specific situation. We are driven to be dissatisfied, programmed and conditioned by unconsciously imposed rules, on what it is right or wrong to do.

If only we pay attention to the media, there should be a disaster every time we set foot outside our homes. I would not say that they help us to be careful but to be terrified of life.

If we decide to use the car, they make us think about all those people who die in accidents, and this is why it is better to go on foot. But this is dangerous as well, a building could collapse, we could be mugged or breathe in filthy air that is harmful for our health. Only the bravest would dare to leave their homes.

It will be safer to stay at home, but being very careful about what we eat. Cholesterol could be affected, not to mention the carcinogenic substances in our food that we could swallow. If we fell down the stairs? If there was a gas leak or our hairdryer fell into the water? The home is full of dangers and the only solution would seem to be to stay in bed. But if there were an earthquake?

This is pure exasperation, and fortunately few people become so obsessed.

I wonder whether it is possible to be totally ourselves going beyond what is constantly churned out to us and not paying attention to what others think.

We are living in times that go so fast! Days, months and years fly by without a pause in a frenzy of events. Emotions without interruption.

But to go where? Continuously on the move in search of what?

I do everything to get inside myself, to savour, and experience the gratification of my will, thinking that I can approach a sort of serenity, happiness and freedom that apparently only achieving things makes me feel and experience these sensations. Once the result has been achieved, this sensation of well-being ad gratification disappears in no time at all.

Where is freedom, really? Serenity. Above all, it is worth making such a great effort to find it?

I am sitting outside a bar. I am sipping wine with some tapas, while the radio plays vintage Spanish songs.

With my eyes closed, I breathe in the smells that surround me. In the air there is the perfume of peace.

The warmth of the mid-July sun relaxes my body. I like ,moments when I am completely with myself, when I can observe without being disturbed, closely examining the mistakes I have made or my wounds yet to heal.

After all, why should I appear strong if I am not?

Out of habit from how I have been taught, showing your weaknesses is like preventing admiration by others, but that is not at all the case for me. I think that revealing your fragility is itself an act of strength. I have always preferred being myself, fragile and perhaps appreciated, than strong and feared.

They say that by looking strong, you cultivate the courage to face challenges, while weakness has to be hidden and treated.

What I need at the moment is to be far from everything and everyone, as though it were a sort of revenge to abandon places and people to think only of myself.

I left alone. I did not want travelling companions, which was fine for me and all things reckoned, I recommend it to everyone.

I am in Seville, in Andalusia. It is an elegant city and at the same time busy in the streets in the centre.

Before coming here, I studied the itinerary I am about to take. I was attracted by what I read, by the description of these places and the people that you can meet.

It frightens me a little. I have six hundred miles ahead of me on foot.

Many would say it’s crazy, and to tell you the truth, I think it is as well. I have never walked for days on end and consecutively for so long, but I became completely engrossed in the books I read, imagining myself walking through boundless landscapes. Alone! Living with just a backpack and the bare necessities; three t-shirts. Three pairs of shorts. A shower gel, a multi-purpose knife, water, food and a great desire for introspection.

This is what I will live with for a month or maybe more.

According to books and accounts, there is a special energy in these places which lets those who go through them reach an understanding of their most hidden self.

I was fascinated by the legend that accompanies the Ruta de la Plata. It says that anybody who crosses it is offered the chance to meet their true love. I don’t know what that really means, whether universal love for anything and everything or of just one person.

After I decided to come here, a series of synchronicities confirmed my decision.

One night two months ago, I woke up with a start. Vaguely remembering a dream.

I could not remember the events, but only a voice telling me, Go to Castile and identity papers in a name I don’t remember but only the two initials: M.P..

At daybreak I went to find out more and I saw that Castile is part of a stretch of the Ruta de la Plata. I was surprised by this but there was more.

The same morning I bought three books, two of which were by the same author, on the subject of coincidences, but until then there was nothing strange.

A few days later, I went to a junk shop, where there was a section of cheap books. I was attracted by a slim volume on an oriental philosophy and I decided to buy it.

I walked just a few steps. I browsed quickly through the pages and noticed a folded piece of paper with some writing in pencil on it. Curious, I opened it and found the name, surname, address with directions and the phone number of the author of the two books I had bought a few days earlier. What was even more amazing was that the author’s initials were M.P., the ones I had seen in my dream. I could not let such a coincidence just pass by, there had to be some meaning to it. At that point, I decided to call the number of the piece of paper, but an electronic voice at the other end told me that it did not exist.

After a search on the Internet, I found her. She has an institute in Milan, holds seminars on personal, growth, philosophies and spirituality. I also found the phone number and I contacted her straight away. Telling her about what had happened, although she often hears stories linked to coincidences, she was surprised, Something was probably taking place that I had to learn from her, or life was pointing out to me the path to follow. But towards what?

As far as the initials M.P. were concerned, she told me that I should consult a