We live in a time when daily life seems defined by speed, self-imposed pressure, and the constant feeling of not being able to do everything. It seems increasingly difficult to stop and listen to our bodies and emotions. This is the topic of Dr. Noelia Samartin Veiga, a neuroscientist and clinical psychologist, and author of the book... You have come to live (Penguin Random House Grupo Editorial, 2026).

Or perhaps the more appropriate question would be: what are you afraid of? Because there are few emotions like the fear of being so equal and so clearly reminded of our true human measure. From the fear of the dark, of monsters, or of separation from your mother, to pain, loneliness, or the death of those you love and who know who you truly are. Fears visit us throughout life like ghosts that take the most varied forms of loss. Violence, losing your home or job, or dignity; outliving a child or a loved one. All of this upsets us in a way that squeezes our hearts hard, almost physically.

Assassination attempt on Trump. New Israeli bombing of Gaza. Russian drones fly over Poland. Fear. Vox says jobs are out of control. Sánchez calls for a vote to prevent the far right from taking power. Ayuso maintains that migrant minors are becoming more aggressive every day. Fear, fear, fear. The CPI has risen 26% in 10 years. Rent in Barcelona is now, on average, more than 1,100 euros. Fear. And the list could be almost endless.

As the world and its evolution become more incomprehensible, uncertain, and problematic, we feel more helpless and we search in emotional aspects for what we don't find in the rational analysis of our surroundings. There is often a mismatch between what is happening to each of us and how we assess what surrounds us. The typical question we ask when we meet someone we don't see often is "How are you?" And more and more people are saying "Well, if we don't go into details." Everything moves so fast and everything is getting more complicated. Never have there been so many things and tools at our disposal, never have we felt so little like we're getting anywhere, that everything is elusive and unexpectedly fragile. In moments like these, emotions are running high. If you feel understood and are in an environment of trust, you can bring out those more empathetic emotional expressions. And the thrill of being with people who understand you and with whom you share makes you feel good. But these spaces and moments are difficult to find in the daily acceleration and disquiet that unsettles everything.

One day, in the days that now seem so distant from the Process, I met an old colleague again, and we inevitably ended up discussing current politics. I remember that, with a condescending smile, he said to me: "You know, when people vote with their feelings..." It was his way of explaining the election results that he, a member of what should be called the right-thinking left, didn't like. Although I can't say it came to me as a new one, the phrase struck me, and it made me wonder if we could seriously establish a clean separation between rationality and feelings when choosing our vote (or when deciding whether to vote). And even more: how do we decide which votes are the result of applying strict rationality and which are the result of falling into the temptation of feelings? Who judges them, and on what basis? (The criterion can't be, of course, that if you vote for "ours" then you're behaving rationally.)