We learn by contrast: we only appreciate walking when one day we can't because of some incident. We appreciate being independent until someone has to bring us a glass so we can drink water. We value what it means to live in love when heartbreak strikes; or we yearn for stability only when there are wars.

“It all started on the last day of 2005, when I went to the hospital with what I thought was the flu. They examined me and said, ‘You have AIDS, kidney failure, and you have seven days to live,’” Jerome Braggs recounts in a class. “I was in very serious condition and had a near-death experience, similar to what many people experience. I died and crossed over. I can say that at that moment I felt the universal love that has no opposite, as well as a great peace and everything I had always longed for.”

Today, 19 years later, I can talk about it. I realized that illness was a calling from life, a stop along the way, an invitation to learn something I had ignored. Until then, I had forced life to be kind to me; I manifested and worked until exhaustion to fulfill my aspirations.

My body embarrassed me; I wasn't as thin as I'd been taught I needed to be to be loved. I felt ashamed of my sexuality, and given the environment I grew up in, I never dared to express my intuitive abilities, as it wasn't the norm. I always rejected myself, hurt myself, and didn't feel worthy. I wasn't free; I repressed myself to obtain what I thought were love, approval, and affection.

The illness taught me that my body and my essence were starving for not loving or accepting me. And that it was there to nourish me, because what isn't nourished can't be healthy. Like the tip of an iceberg, what was visible was only a small part of everything I had neglected inside. I knew that if I didn't accept that invitation, my life would never result in health, relationships, finances, or joy. If I didn't express my authenticity, I would never feel at home.

It took me a long time to discover that the real secret is love yourself.This didn't mean taking care of my body the way we've been taught: a massage, a green juice, sleeping well, and so on. Nor did it mean that love is a hug, receiving affection, hearing bells ringing, or watching fireworks.

I understood that nothing was against me, that I had to allow life to love me and listen to what that truly meant. Illness wasn't my enemy; it was a sacred calling to be more loving, to be more in touch with my inner self, and to accept whatever life chose for me.

On my journey, I understood that true self-love is freedom, it's feeling valued, it's joy and connection, it's aligning with our essence; it's feeling the frequency of love, even when life isn't perfect and we don't fully understand it. When I have the feeling that 'everything is okay,' it's because everything truly is, and that feeling becomes my compass and my guide.

Listening to Jerome left me with the task of asking myself, with every decision, no matter how small, whether by making it I am moving closer to or further away from myself and my congruence. Does what I'm doing feel right? If not, what alternative, behavior, or thought could lead me to feel that everything is okay?

Feeling universal love has no contrast or opposite. Loving yourself is the only way. By practicing that loyalty to my soul, all will be well, and that feeling will be my compass and my guide.