In 1997 I became seriously ill. I had been going through a very oppressive situation and ended up in intensive care.
Many different elements conspired against me – a sense of pressure because of my economic situation, failure to take myself into consideration, feeling contradiction because I wasn’t doing things that made me grow, etc.
I was taken urgently to the Rivadavia Hospital after several days in which I had felt like I was suffocating, with a very high fever, very weak and without vitality.
In a few hours I was in intensive care, about to be intubated, hooked up to an artificial respirator and put into a state of pharmacological coma, because of a pulmonary infection called pneumocystis carinii, within my general condition of being HIV positive.
I have a fuzzy memory of my couple Lea and Tito de Casa, who had come to see me there. To encourage me, Tito was talking to me about Silo’s last talk, in which he said “the human being is an enchained god…” and I remember having said to him that that’s how I felt at that moment, but that I would break my chains and that god would come out on top and defeat those bugs that were devouring my life!
My situation was very distressing. My defenses were very low, and the doctors kept giving the worst view, according to which they said there was no hope, only one in thousands managed to recover.
Considering the evidence, the doctors and my friends began to prepare Lea for the obvious outcome.
But far from accepting this, she skewered a doctor, saying that since I was alive they had to do everything possible to save me. This doctor replied negatively that this does happen every so often and that yesterday in fact she had had a patient who had died.
So it was that Lea and two friends with whom we were spreading Silo’s doctrine set themselves to studying what the virus was doing in the body, trying to figure out how my body was translating my internal state, what could be done from that point of view to counteract that and help me recover.
The my defenses were low, they needed to strengthen them by generating situations that would help in that.
Lea called on a Siloist, a friend we had known for years, and whom we respected very much as a person. She told him about my situation, and said they were reading me the guided experience “The Protector of Life,” because they felt intuitively that there was something that I was not integrating, some dissatisfaction with my body, some situation that was not integrated.
He came to see me in intensive care. I was already sedated and “unconscious,” but when he spoke to me (Lea told me later), his voice rang out, echoing in that place, as if the Guide were speaking.
“José Maria, listen to me!” he said, and I woke up.
He asked Lea to leave us alone for a few moments, and I remember that he spoke to me with great affection and called on me firmly to resist.
“I will be seeing Negro,” he told me. “He is coming to Buenos Aires very soon for a meeting, and I will tell him how you are. Do you think you can hold on?”
“Yes,” was my answer… and I closed my eyes to sink back into that world in which I had been pharmacologically submerged.
When he left the room he commented that it seemed to him from my frown (like when one is preoccupied) that I was certainly trying to resolve something in my head, and that the best thing would be to try to have me move down into my heart, to register things from there.
Lea began calling people with whom I might have had some kind of relationship problem, so they would visit me and speak to me in my ear to reconcile those situations. At the same time in the corridor they were doing experiences with the force, and more and more friends came to join them, to ask for the situation that was consuming me to be turned around. Some of them also read me the experience.
Meanwhile, I don’t know how to explain it, or in what space it was happening, but things were happening to me internally. It was like being awake in a dream world, very much like those dreams in which situations are recreated from daily life in order to discharge or transfer energetic charges that have accumulated or have gotten stuck in certain memories, and seeking to transfer them to more dis-tensing images.
Of the many things that happened to me that I became aware of after several months talking and connecting threads with my couple or friends, I want to briefly relate these two.
Still in that state of vigilic dreaming, I suddenly see Negro pass by through the door to the Intensive Care unit. He gives me a conspiratorial smile.
He looks at me, winks, and disappears down the hallway.
I hear the nurse on duty say:
“Señor, you can’t be here now, it’s after hours…”
And then I hear Negro’s voice, but with a country accent:
“Yes, yes, I’m just looking for a friend who is here…”
“Well, ok, but only a few minutes, no more!” I hear the nurse answer.
I see Negro enter the room with a funny gesture and he stands at the foot of my bed and says to me, “How’s it going, how are you José Maria, are you tired? Do you want to do an experience with the force?”
“Yes, Negro, I’m not tired, let’s do an experience with the force,” was my answer.
Immediately and with a big smile Negro literally put his hands inside my chest and formed a sphere of light that surrounded my heart. He began turning it, making it go faster and faster as if spinning it on its axis.
At that moment a powerful energy began to circulate through my whole body, very intense and gratifying, very benevolent. I felt it acting indomitably in every cell, as if they had plugged me in to a generator.
All the while, he told me jokes and said funny things that I don’t remember now, but everything was in a kind, humorous tone of great affectivity.
Every now and then he would ask me if I was tired, if I wanted to stop, and I would answer no, I’m fine, let’s continue.
After repeating this several times over a long period, at one moment he asked me, “Jose Maria, do you want to live?”
“Yeeeessss, Negro!” was my heartfelt answer. “I feel like I still have a lot to do.”
Then he removed his hands from my chest and told me: “That’s it!”
He winked at me with a conspiratorial eye, smiled, softly said goodbye, and disappeared through the door.
Some time later as I was talking with Lea, reconstructing the experience and trying to integrate and interrelate what had happened, she told me that one day the nurse on duty had asked her if she could stay longer than the schedule allowed in order to soothe me, because I had been very restless and had been speaking as if someone with me. The gadgets I was hooked up to were going crazy, the needles kept moving in an altered way.
Several months after that encounter, that remained very strongly engraved in my consciousness, as if I had really experienced in the waking state everything that happened, I met that friend who had called on me to resist, and after saying how overjoyed we were to see each other and how well I was feeling, I told him about that episode.
He smiled, looked at me and said that has he had told me he would, at one point during Silo’s visit to Buenos Aires, he took him aside and told him about the situation I was going through, and immediately Negro nodded and remained silent for some time, as if he were concentrating on something, as if for that brief period of time “he was no longer there” but was “somewhere else.”
After that interlude, Negro told him, “Very well, let’s continue!”
The second situation I experienced with “Negro’s intervention” happened a few days after the episode I have just described.
The days passed and my recovery was exponential. My defenses grew incredibly, the doctors and my couple and friends were weeping with emotion as they talked about it, and the doctors said, “It’s a miracle, we don’t know what you are doing, but keep doing it, it’s obvious that it’s working, we know very little about the human mind.”
I was still in intensive care and my body had gotten very weak, I had no strength even to move my arms, and I could not speak and make myself understood without difficulty, because they had given me a tracheotomy.
This merits a brief commentary: at the time they did the tracheotomy, the doctors told Lea that I wouldn’t have the same voice. Lea told them I liked being talking on the media and the doctors told her I would have to forget that, because this kind of procedure affects the vocal chords.
Today my voice is intact and I think it’s even better, so much so that I was able to do a series of TV programs for three years called Silo’s Message, completely normally. I also attribute this to the great protection of my guide and master Silo.
And in relation to things that happened later…
And continuing this story, Lea came to see me, and I was waiting for her visit anxiously, because I wanted to tell her many things, but that was impossible for me, I could’nt write, because of my weakness, and I had the tracheotomy. I made the decision to recover as quickly as possible.
Then one day in the accompanied solitude of that intensive care unit, I looked at a bottle of mieral water on my bedside stand, and little by little, with great effort (the long hospitalization had weakened my body) I began to reach for it, and began by just lifting it and holding it. It seemed terribly heavy but I didn’t stop trying and I kept daring myself to go a little further.
Until one morning the doctor came in my room for his routine daily visit, and found me lifting and setting down the bottle with complete agility, as if I were doing gymnasitce, and with a triumphant smile on my face.
It was then that he decided that they could move me to a regular hospital room.
In that room I shared the space with other people and the attention wasn’t as personalized, and because of how bloody the treatment had been, my body and my consciousness began to demonstrate signs of weariness and anxiety.
I couldn’t sleep, or rest, and the fluorescent light that was never turned of seemed like a torture lamp. I began to be invaded by a sensation of suffocation and fear. It was like returning to a state of darkness in which I heard inner voices that contradicted my feelings. I thought I was going crazy. This continued for several days, and I began to think about my death and all kinds of negative thoughts. I couldn’t get unstuck from this state that made me more and more uneasy.
Suddenly and when I was already at the end of my psychic and physical rope, Negro appeared on a brilliantly colored TV screen facing me at the foot of my bed.
Then he told me with great kindness, “Jose Maria, do not follow the path of the negative. That is a tendency you must abandon and transform. Follow the path of the positive.”
To leave that state I had to choose, and make the effort to take the luminous path.
Then I felt a very powerful sensation of calm and relaxation, and immediately when I set my head in this direction, that whole sensation that had been bothering me and weighing on me disappeared instantaneously. It vanished and that first night I was able to rest deeply.
- Jose Maria Constantini