Editor’s note: In this personal reflection, guest author Leopoldo Gomez Diaz looks back across a lifetime of loss, resilience, and quiet self-discovery. It is a meditation on becoming, and on the invisible presence that, he believes, has walked beside him all along.
The Path That Life Drew for Me
I was born in a humble neighborhood and raised in a lower-middle-class family of moderate size, built upon strong values and guided by a remarkably wise leader: my widowed mother. She possessed a natural inner compass that gently, yet firmly, guided all of us, her children, through life’s unpredictable adventures.
In my mother’s house, we never talked about resilience; we lived it.
From an early age, we learned to live with life’s highs and lows, dancing cheek to cheek with existence itself. Some days moved to the rhythm of smooth jazz; others echoed with the force and intensity of heavy rock.
In my neighborhood, I learned how to play, enjoy life, defend myself, dance, and most importantly, “belong”. I learned what it meant to be part of a community and to grow together with others.
During my childhood, I was shy, timid, and sometimes insecure. Today, I consider myself an authentic, fortunate, honest, self-confident, calm, kind, and friendly person. I rarely say things that I do not truly feel or believe. I do not offer compliments lightly; when I express admiration, it is because I sincerely mean it. I value keeping my word.
Who I am is what people perceive, feel, and see.
Through work, study, and everyday challenges, I learned to grow and to find joy in the present moment. I rarely worried about the future. My world revolved around simple questions:
- What are we going to eat today?
- When is it my turn to help in my mother’s small store?
- When can I go outside and play with my friends?
- At that stage of life, the future felt distant and unimportant. Only the present mattered.
Learning Through Loss
As time passed, I witnessed the deaths of some neighbors through accidents, violence, and drugs. Each loss pushed me inward and led me to ask difficult questions: Why them? Could it happen to me? What does all of this mean?
Most of the time, I found more questions than answers. Yet, without realizing it, I was learning through observation, silence, and reflection. I spent time alone thinking about those losses, trying to understand how to protect myself and the people I loved from similar pain. I followed no philosophy and practiced no method. It was simply instinct: a natural desire to reflect, seek meaning, survive, and grow. I used to play, and I still love to, the “What if…?” game.
Back then, I had never heard of meditation, or of spirituality beyond traditional religion, or of the practice of looking inward. Still, something, perhaps intuition, perhaps common sense, guided me toward silence and reflection. Thoughts about the future only began to appear near the end of high school: questions about who I wanted to become, what I should study, and the kind of life I wanted to build.
The Women Who Shaped Me
Today, I am convinced that I am a fortunate person, perhaps even blessed. Throughout my life, I have been surrounded by remarkable women, and I am deeply grateful to all of them. Their wisdom has influenced me profoundly.
I have listened carefully to their advice and have felt fortunate to learn from their strength. In the course of my life, I admire women’s intuition, sensitivity, and perspective, and the unique ways many of them understand life. I have listened carefully to their advice and have felt fortunate to learn from their strength. In the course of my life. I have listened carefully to their advice and have felt fortunate to learn from their strength. In the course of my life, I have had the satisfaction not only of teaching at the National University of Mexico, but also of sharing with my two children and three grandchildren the simple wisdom I gathered along the way.
In the larger story of my life, I sometimes feel protected by something greater than myself: an invisible force, a mysterious energy, or perhaps simply luck appearing through opportunities, meaningful encounters, and perfect timing.
The Questions I Still Ask
Sometimes I wonder whether losing my father changed the course of my life, and quite often, I ask myself:
Who would I have become if my father had not died when I was six years old?
Would I think differently?
Would I have made different choices?
Would my personality, dreams, and way of seeing life be different?
But perhaps that experience also helped shape the person I became, someone who learned to adapt, to observe, to reflect, and to find strength from within.
And at the same time, another question comes to my mind:
What would I say to my younger self?
Would I tell him not to be afraid?
Would I tell him that life would be difficult at times but also beautiful?
Would I tell him that even in loss there would be growth, strength, and unexpected gifts?
If I had possessed then the experience and understanding that I have today, would I have chosen differently? Would I be living another life? Would I have made other decisions?
Perhaps yes in some moments and no in others. Or perhaps my answer would still be no, because I believe that I lived the experiences I needed to live and learned the lessons I needed to learn.
This was and still is my path. My responsibility now is to transform experience into wisdom:
- To improve my relationship with myself first, then with others, and finally with life.
- To know myself more deeply.
- To recognize my feelings, emotions, needs, and desires.
And above all, to become aware of my thoughts and choose them intentionally.
To imagine what I truly want from life and discover which parts of myself still require attention, healing, and growth.
What I Have Learned in Life
As time has passed, I have discovered something important. Although I live alone at home, I do not live alone. I live with myself.
Most of my life unfolds in silence, in my own company. Today, I live in peace. I enjoy my family whenever we gather, my relationships, my routines, my decisions, and the simple comforts of everyday life. I try to learn something new every day. I continue discovering empathy, compassion, gratitude, kindness, friendship, and the wisdom of letting go: learning to flow with life and allowing life to flow.
But above all, I remain in the process of discovering my true self, step by step, day after day. Each morning, I choose how I want to live the day, and which emotions deserve my attention. Each night, I thank the universe for the events, emotions, and experiences that shaped it. When I fall asleep feeling grateful, I begin a peaceful journey inward.
A Letter to My Younger Self
And once again, I ask: What would I say to my younger self?
I would tell him: You are fortunate. You are stronger than you think.
Growing up without a father taught you inner strength, character, and your own way of understanding life: to adapt, recover, and continue growing through adversity.
Helping your mother taught you responsibility and teamwork.
Playing in the neighborhood taught you a sense of belonging.
Studying taught you possibilities.
Life taught you humility.
The women who accompanied you taught you to recognize the human side of emotions: to feel deeply, to listen with empathy, and to understand that not everything important is grasped by the mind. Some things are only understood by the heart.
If I could go back in time, I would experiment with different ways of thinking, behaving, and connecting with positive people. I would seek those who inspire growth and remain close to them. I would tell my younger self to be bolder and more daring, to pursue what he wanted without fear. To take greater risks. To accept failure as a natural part of the journey and not as a reason to stop. To remain kind, generous, and grateful, even when life feels unfair.
Not to respond to aggression with aggression, but to remain calm, to stay silent when silence is wiser, and to keep his self-control. To understand that true strength is not always found in fighting back, but often in choosing peace. And above all, to keep trying, again and again, never giving up.
I would tell myself that it is okay to have emotions, feelings, and doubts. That it is okay to fail, to cry, and to try again. That it is okay not to know. To let go. To release painful memories. To be human.
Because even now, I understand that I remain in a continuous process of learning and adapting, often through trial and error. That is life.
The True Magic
This journey inward continues. And perhaps that is the true magic: discovering that the person I was searching for has been with me all along. That I have never truly been alone, but accompanied and protected, not only by my loved ones, but by a silent and invisible presence. A presence I cannot see, but can sense.
Whatever its name may be, it has always watched over me, guided me, and walked by my side.
Author bio:
Leopoldo Gomez Diaz is a retired engineer from Mexico City and a guest author for E-Journal Times. He spent four decades at the Mexican Petroleum Institute and taught at the prestigious National Autonomous University of Mexico (UNAM). In his writing, he weaves together stories of his experiences, passions, and insights. When he is not writing, Leopoldo enjoys reading novels, exploring metaphysics, listening to music, playing soccer, and savoring his early-morning coffee.
Read another piece by Leopoldo, A Mexican Mosaic, or search his name to find more of his work for our magazine.
Also read https://a-passion4life.com/the-journey-back-to-yourself-finding-meaning-and-connection/
