Articles

You don't have to die to cross the realms of the soul.
Every stage of life can become a kind of death:
a fall, a surrender, a door into another way of living.
And yet, we can also cross these realms without dying,
through the body, through landscape, through love and through pain.

That is what I lived on this journey. What seemed like a simple trip through California revealed itself as a map of the soul — a descent, an ascension, a contemplation. And everything was there: the cities, the countryside, the forest, the lake, the rock, the garden. All of it held by an invisible presence. God.

🏙️ The City and the Countryside

We departed from San Francisco, passing through San Mateo, Modesto, Merced… names that ring like litanies. I saw lonely, disoriented people, farmworkers bent and invisible. This was not a social critique. It was a spiritual perception: everyone existed, but no one was looking at each other. And that is the most dangerous fire — the one that burns not in the trees but in the soul, when faith becomes structure, when the other no longer matters.

🌲 The Forest-Purgatory

Further along the trees began — tall pines, meadows, signs of ancient fires. This is the forest-purgatory: the stage of the soul where one begins to seek, but still reacts, still ignites, still suffers. Here one prays with weariness, with clumsiness — and yet, the prayer is more real than ever. The soul begins to take root, seeking humility, silence, presence.

🪨 The Rock

All of this is sustained by something invisible — something the soul senses and the body walks upon. The rock. The granite. God. One day I saw trees gripping bare granite with their roots, no visible soil. And I understood: this is how we are when we pray from the desert, when we believe without seeing. The rock bears no fruit. But it holds the tree that insists.

❄️ May Lake

I climbed to May Lake with my friend Titi. I plunged my feet and head into the frozen water. Tachycardia. Vulnerability. I had to lie down. Breathe. Be held. And I understood: that sky exists, but it is not a place to stay. It is not dwelling. It is revelation. But from there rivers are born that descend to the forest, nourish the valley, water the city. The lake cannot be inhabited… but its water transforms everything.

💧 The Garden: Yosemite Valley

When we emerged from the tunnel and saw the Yosemite Valley, I wept. Not from emotion. From recognition. That place did not demand. It welcomed. Here the water flows, the green does not burn, the rocks do not hurt. Everything is grace. This is the garden: the heaven God gave us to inhabit while alive. Here God is no longer far away. He is incarnate. He is present.

A bee followed us to the stream. It did not sting, but it persisted. And I understood: just before entering the heart of the garden, consciousness faces its final distraction. The garden is both gift and response — God saying: "Yes. You can be here now. Because even when there is buzzing, you no longer flee." The one who has seen the garden can carry it within — as John Lennon did with Strawberry Fields Forever.

🤲 Those Who Descend from the Garden

The one who has inhabited the garden does not remain there. Not from selfishness. From love. They return to the forest to accompany those still burning. Return to the city to look with compassion. These are the incarnate angels: the friends who do not flee, the leaders who act with justice. They do not preach. They have simply seen the garden. And they cannot ignore it.

🕊️ A Path That Begins Again · ✨ Epilogue

Even after the garden, one can fall again. But one can also return to the forest with true thirst. Take root. Seek the rock. Drink from the water. And climb again.

Everything is watered by the water, and held by the rock. And everything — everything — is God.

This journey didn't begin overnight. It has been unfolding over decades—sparked initially by conversations with former distributors who encouraged me to revisit and deepen the findings I had collected along the way. While I try not to repeat what's already shared on hugoaristides.com, I want to reflect on a few key moments that have shaped this path.

It began back in 1997, during my university years, when I wrote my graduate thesis on socially responsible investing. I was also serving as a teaching assistant in Corporate Finance, which gave me a close-up view of how value systems intersect with capital. These experiences became the foundation for my interest in finance beyond numbers—for something more human-centered.

Not long after, I joined Skandia, a Swedish financial services firm known for its commitment to human capital and learning. There, I worked within Skandia University, a program that allowed us to travel globally, researching how corporate universities operated and how education could be a tool for transforming client experience. These insights planted the seeds of innovation—lessons I would revisit many times in later ventures.

My research interests evolved into family financial planning, with a growing emphasis on retirement. One book, Transiciones, became central to my reflections on financial life cycles. At the same time, I was teaching Modern Leadership in MBA programs across Latin America. I encouraged students to explore leadership not just as a theory but as an experience. In teams, they designed ambitious projects—including interviewing political and business leaders in Colombia and even organizing a live university symposium with presidential candidates. That experiential style of learning left a deep mark on me and opened the door to further inquiry.

Later, I launched FinancialGym, a platform that worked with institutions like the Colombia Stock Exchange and multinational corporations to promote financial literacy among employees. When the 2008 financial crisis hit and I was laid off, I pivoted into neuroeconomics research. I started a speaker series and led investor education workshops to explore how the brain shapes financial decisions. On weekends, I facilitated Excel-based planning sessions for families—small acts of empowerment that combined data with human behavior.

After moving to the U.S., my curiosity deepened. I began studying psychology to better understand why so many people—even high earners—lived paycheck to paycheck. I explored The Addictive Brain by Thad A. Polk and The Psychology of Human Behavior by David W. Martin. Slowly, I realized this wasn't just academic—it was personal. I was seeking answers about myself.

That search eventually led to my first eBook, La Bicicleta Financiera, which explores how families can shift from financial survival to self-driven growth. During that time, books like The Murder of the Middle Class by Wayne Allyn Root and The Lean Startup by Eric Ries shaped my thinking about adaptability and resilience—concepts that quietly mirrored my own reinventions.

Life, however, had its own curriculum. Personal challenges pushed me closer to faith. At one corporate event, we were asked to read On Fire by John O'Leary—and he appeared in person. What I witnessed was powerful: colleagues opening their hearts, some crying silently. That experience shifted something in me and made me more curious about the emotional and spiritual dimensions of human growth.

Soon after, I read Finding Peace by Troy L. Love and Love and Respect by Dr. Emerson Eggerichs. These books became companions in my emotional development. Therapists and coaches along the way introduced me to more tools—and more questions.

After my mother passed away, one of my brothers sent me the documentary HEAL, and while looking through her bookshelf, I found Wake Up by Father Anthony de Mello. That book cracked something open. I found myself drawn to Catholic mystics and other authors who, while not always officially embraced by doctrine, offered deep spiritual insights. I wrestled with that—figures like Father Teilhard de Chardin, once silenced by the Church, only to be later quoted by Pope Francis. Still, I trusted the journey.

While struggling with grief, I tried to keep momentum going on the Bicifi App, though it felt uphill. I was reading about the Kübler-Ross model on grief and Viktor Frankl's Man's Search for Meaning when I was invited to take part in transformational workshops in the Colombian mountains. The first one, PSP, explored our early relationships and internal conditioning through meditation, dance, and dialogue. These programs were inspired by the work of Dr. Claudio Naranjo, whose teachings deeply influenced me.

I attended a second workshop based on Naranjo's extensions of the Gurdjieff and Ichazo frameworks. I couldn't help but reflect on how I had dismissed certain practices in the past—perhaps out of fear or lack of understanding. Now, I was open.

That openness led me to Lise Bourbeau's Heal Your Wounds and Find Your True Self, which helped connect many dots. I wondered: why hadn't I been taught any of this in all my years of Catholic schooling? Books like The Physics of God by Amit Goswami and Feeding Your Demons by Tsultrim Allione drew me further into exploring the relationship between science, faith, and shadow work. To balance that, I enrolled in a contemplative prayer course and discovered Biography of the Light by Father Pablo d'Ors—a masterful reflection on interior life.

At the time, I had joined a Catholic group in Boca Raton called Emaús Brothers. Some of the men began referring others to me for conversations when they were going through life's storms. I wasn't looking for that, but I showed up—and perhaps that was enough.

Looking back, I now feel that much of this has been quietly orchestrated by a greater force. A kind of wind, invisible but real, has moved me across paths, books, and people. One day, a cousin gave me the film Finding Joe, based on Joseph Campbell's work. And piece by piece, each encounter added clarity to the mosaic. Not total clarity—but enough to keep walking.

Eventually, I began facilitating contemplative prayer sessions in South Florida. To deepen my spiritual formation, I studied The Interior Castle by Saint Teresa of Ávila. That work—dense and rich—helped me recognize the nature of shadows and the return to inner light.

When It Didn't Start With You by Mark Wolynn landed in my hands (both from my wife and again from my brother), I started to understand how much of what we carry is generational. Patterns flow through families like rivers—with turns, cascades, and still waters.

Trying to ground all this in everyday life, I began studying Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction (MBSR) through the University of Massachusetts, eventually entering the teacher training pathway. It felt like the right time to integrate the outer research with the inner one.

Now, I've stepped back a bit from new reading. I feel full. Almost overfed. Like I've been drinking from a firehose for too long. I need to write. Writing is a way to process. Sharing is a way to live, to expand—and to shine.

I am nothing if I don't help others shine, beginning with myself, my family, my teams, my clients… and even my breath.

I've read many authors, but a few have become cornerstones of my thought. They shape the framework I now propose through hugoaristides.com.

I know it might sound bold to say I've been "researching" just by reading books—but this has been a personal research. If it helps even one person reconnect with their own path, then it has already fulfilled its purpose. What started for me has become, inevitably, something for others.

The Anishinabe tribe called strawberries odeiminidjibik.

Let's get this right. People who ask themselves how they treat themselves, what their purpose in life is, and what happens after life are people who are beginning their journey toward expanding their consciousness. At some point, there's a realization that there is something more.

There's no secret recipe—each person has their own path to living a fulfilled life. We don't need to demonize jobs, societal standards, awakening ways or persistent conditioning. Deep within our dreams and breaths, everyone knows where we stand in our journey.

Consciousness expansion can be achieved through many approaches, but first, let's understand its connection to perception.

Perception

Let's go back to the innovative mindset indigenous tribes had to develop to survive in wild North America before settlers arrived. How did they discover that strawberries were not only edible but also delicious and nutritious?

Indigenous leaders and shamans had to explore nature to discern what was safe. They observed which plants animals ate and which they avoided. They noticed bears feasting on strawberries in the summer until they fell asleep.

The leader had to remain open-minded, becoming a vessel for the tribe's well-being and a magnet for shared wisdom. He followed the bears through days and nights, observing their behavior and health as they feasted on the mysterious fruit. Back in the village, he listened intently to hunters, farmers, and elders, gathering stories and experiences tied to the plant. Through this collective insight, his perception deepened. Only when he felt truly ready—grounded in knowledge and intuition—did he taste the fruit himself. Once he confirmed its safety, he shared it with the tribe, not just as food, but as a gift of understanding born from patience, observation, and trust.

As in the movie Into the Wild, a young man disillusioned with modern society—its materialism, corruption, and superficiality—ventures into the wild. He must rely on pure perception to decide what to eat. I won't spoil the ending, but now you have a task: watch the movie!

From indigenous leaders to those who feel excluded from post modern society, everyone must rely on perception. When we lose it, we're asleep—even at midday. We only see what frightens us. Our fears guide our decisions, often without us realizing it. That's why turning on the light—expanding perception / consciousness—is so important.

75% of entrepreneurs face mental health challenges, compared to 48% of non-entrepreneurs (Source: Forbes).

The Problem

Are we too afraid to make discoveries—like finding new strawberries? Are our creativity and innovation dead? Do we have the time it takes? The effort?

Innovation doesn't come from the outside, it comes from within! We can't teach what we are not. We Gen Xers need to become a new light for future generations!

In indigenous North American culture, strawberries symbolized love, purity, and good fortune. The Anishinabe tribe called them odeiminidjibik, meaning "root of the heart," reflecting their deep connection to this sacred fruit (Source: Goodforworld.com, University of Washington Seattle). Now you will remember this article every time you eat a strawberry ahh? LOL! When you work from your heart you have time, patience, attention, motivation... you are present! Others perceive it. This is a topic for another article... or post...

So, are we going to let future generations ignite their lives solely from their mind? Or will we empower them to do what we've "struggled" with?—ignite their lives from a healthy balance between the heart-mind-body? Many of us have surrendered to ego and archaic society's definitions of success.

The Way to Consciousness

Find what you love—even if it's a Saturday job, like I do here! If you love money and social recognition, you've found a beautiful plant in the wilderness—but it may be venomous. A venom that never satisfies enough. I'm not saying you shouldn't live well—don't get me wrong. But eventually, you'll realize that money alone doesn't help the bear finally go to sleep well. Even the bear can't eat more than it can handle. No one can eat two or three lunches in a day. But that's a topic for another article or post again...

Let's connect from the heart. Let's tune into the body. What is that force that makes you breathe, that fills your lungs with the air of the world—a world where we are all connected through mother nature like the omega point mentioned by Teilhard De Chardin?!

If this is how you want to live, then before you sell your company, donate it, or leave your seven-figure executive job, let's first expand our consciousness and get closer to the God within ourselves. (Read my other post about the Quimbaya culture).

Remember, the ego is clever. It will find many ways to distract you from the path of enlightenment. We all get lost sometimes. What matters is returning to the path. And the path likely won't be just booking a flight to drink a sacred plant or ritual in the Colombian mountains—as a transaction with nature. Nature is not that dumb! But again this is a topic for another article… ufff.

Don't make drastic decisions until you deeply understand why you may be seeking self-knowledge, purpose, and closeness to God. This isn't analysis paralysis—it's waiting for life's impulse to call you, just as Jesus called his disciples. But that's also for another article… ohh men...

Don't leap too soon, driven by ego. Let's first work on expanding consciousness. Let's meditate in silence, let's debate an "imperfect" plan, let's read and discuss marvelous books and movies, and let's pray and contemplate the nature through our body. Ask God to help us understand how to expand our perception so we can become the leaders our families, employees, churches, startups, and communities need to finally understand and fulfill the prayer: "Thy kingdom come." — Our Father!

Find your strawberry in your current role, in a side business, in community involvement. You don't need to dismantle your life like the movie Into the Wild :) One of my mentors once said "There are people who only need a strong coffee." Your strawberry is unique to you, it is not a prescription. Even further you can become the strawberry!

Your way is sacred, unique, precious...

Want to talk about perception and innovation?
Have you failed miserably in your entrepreneurial journeys?
Or you just want to walk along a walker? Or remain in silence?

I've been there, in the desert.

Let's talk!