I survived a certain death in 2022, and for that, I feel grateful.
It taught me that sometimes all that it takes for you to win is just not to die.
Four times it feels as if someone is pulling you down from unknown sides of you, four times with escalating intensity and a new response every time. It was an event of physical exertion beyond the emotional and spiritual ones. An electric shock, the 220-volt main supply to a new house.
The 1st wave was sudden, a shock. a quick realization that this is serious, the physical feeling of being pulled down very strongly, and the down not only feeling in the physical but seemingly in the spiritual world as your vision goes into a sneak peek into a dark realm, underneath, that felt somehow strangely familiar. The Snap realization that something has started, something that can have a stay in ending you. The 1st spontaneous physical response is poorly coordinated, with a lack of realization of how this works, what is it, and what does it want, exactly?
Since you haven’t yet digested what is going on.
And between peak waves/pulls, there is a fraction of time, prepping a defense for a possible repetition, a powerful wrestling jump, that quickly proves to be useless against such an unfamiliar force.
Another peek into darkness.
Oh, Repeat again, 10x force.
And there and then you realize on a subway style, that it is really a “that’s it?” moment. And just like that, it comes down to that? Now you can have a brief moment with god. Last prayer? “I have responsibilities” was probably mine. Something along the lines of an unfinished mission and people to protect and care for.
And somehow after giving up on your own power, a fourth jump knocks you out of the electric loop, after realizing what you just went through, with first human contact the way you hold yourself makes it difficult to imagine that it was a matter of life or death or to explain the event with its specifics.
Immediately after that, It was a long night of some spiritual exploration (warfare) and some befriending curious souls and having conversations with them until they feel no need to claim the territory, of course after giving them reasons why not to feel the need for that.
They say things about the house when you are the first person to stay in it. There is a certain prayer and ritual, respecting the spirits who had been living in that space and do not expect humans. They will have to go.
Since you did not die, they’ll have to leave. And you make them do it by being firm, commanding, and respectful.
And I thought if we believe this experience in the spirit world, why wouldn’t I continue doing the same, commanding things to leave In a firm respectful language, across all dimensions, from a position of power like surviving an electric shock or even paying my dues.
And yes, I had to stand by the door and declare victory.
I was the only surviving male of 7 pregnancies. So, I’m expected to survive.
Maybe most of the time, these stories remain a secret for some reason.
It feels like a layer of ancient protection, at the very last moment of realization that this goes beyond my limited power, an ancient face slowly gesturing to you that the music still goes on… the spirit of all the mothers and fathers, aunts and uncles and all the grandmothers and grandfathers … celebrating also that our bloodline still comes with a pretty strong heart…
At least that’s how it felt to me.
It was a come-back year for conferences. It’s kind of funny but getting back to business seemed all familiar, with speaking gibberish, around a networking table with a very insightful and particular conversation, it all came down to how come this Egyptian guy has blue eyes? And the hand gestures used by the person answering to explain the diversity of the gene pool here, and the “repeated occupations”, hehe! I didn’t understand why not discuss that in my presence, not noticing that I just moved to the next table, I would have loved to be engaged with the conversation.
You feel kind of disappointed that the memorable thing about our long conversation was this guy’s eye color and genetic heritage. I said some important things on this table. You know!
People in the entrepreneurship space seem to be having some intensity with the shifting economy and collapsing alliances. I ran a brand in that space since 2008, peaking in 2011-2014, oh hell, I represented CSOs/private sector in Egypt at the world bank annual meetings in 2013 in Washington DC. I also tasted a few of these “early shocks” and wrote about them long before it came to the surface. Now, I ceased to be able to ignite any interest beyond an eye roll.
Sometimes it’s better to reset and start from scratch.
My two cents to people in that space would be exactly what my experience teaches: Sometimes all that you need to win is just not to die.
Maybe you can recall your very own ancient faces…and tell us about them as you survive more and more challenges. When you get close to what you’re facing it ceases to scare you, it becomes something you live with.
There is a certain grace in old faces, no matter what race or gene pool they are from.
Bring your own story to the venture and move forth with a powerful connection to your roots. Make it the human experience it is. Recalling beautiful faces and prayers of embrace and protection not from external gods of technology and capital but the deeply rooted connection to family, friends, and tribe.
The “tribe” was the dream of the brand I founded. That warm human connection and respectful dialogue we were able to keep for a while. Life teaches a lot through action and example.
If I talk about an ecosystem of survival for 2023, I would choose to bring Zaynab, my grandmother. Her comfortable face, her grace, and her generosity.
Life could be simple. Just ask yourself who would you choose to bring to your ecosystem? The rest wouldn’t matter, to you at least…
Also published on Medium.