Hey, friends. How are you?

This first post is to calmly share what Larissa and I have been through since January 2024.
Some of you know a piece of it.
Others can’t imagine what these last 2 years have been like.

In January 2024, by a twist of life, during one last swim in a river on a camping trip in Brunswick (NSW), I cut my foot.
That was the start of my saga through hospitals, surgeries, and recovery processes.

What I thought would be just a “quick 2-P stop” at the emergency room turned into almost two years of back-and-forth.
That first surgery wasn’t the cause of the spine problem, but today it’s part of my recovery story — since I wasn’t able to regain 100% of the movement in my left foot, which still affects my hip and spine rehab.

We finally saw the opportunity to log the hours needed for the graduate pathway working full time and to pursue the dreamed-of road to citizenship.
$1,500 per week, stability, plans.
But slowly, what seemed like a new beginning turned into a nightmare.

Pain began in my lower back and hip.
I went to the doctor in June.
I explained my routine — a father, an immigrant, trying to handle everything.

The solution: a cortisone injection to “get through the routine.”
I rested, went back to work — and I was never the same.

The low-back pain faded, but my hip started locking up.
There were new injections, now in the hip. New promises. No improvement.

After the second injection, I couldn’t work anymore.
If in April/May I worked 10 hours, drove 3, took care of Matteo, and still played soccer,
after that I could barely stay on my feet for a few hours a day or drive for more than 1 hour.

From August to November 2024, my mobility kept fading.
When I finally managed to see a hip specialist in November, he said it wasn’t the hip — it was the spine.
After laughing at the situation, he still suggested one more injection:
“Maybe it will help,” he said — what a jerk.

One more injection, this time for bursitis — on my birthday, 06/11/24.
I thought: “If it’s going to help, let it be my present.”
But it was the opposite.
A week later, I couldn’t walk anymore.

I started relying on opioids every 4 hours to bring the pain down from 11/10 to 7/10.
I used crutches, slept on the couch to avoid stairs, and lived lying down.

On 01/01/25, I decided to quit opioids.
I was turning into a zombie.
I dropped the opiates and went back to trusting only our ancestral technologies. 🍁

A new doctor discovered what was really happening:
my L5S1 disc was completely worn out and needed to be replaced.

Surgery was scheduled for 13/03/25 — 44 days after the diagnosis.

Up to that moment it had been nine months without working, about $50,000 dollars we didn’t earn,
and a surgery costing AUD$20,000, paid with two credit cards — may God cover it, because I can’t. 😂

Two weeks before surgery, we still went through Cyclone Alfred.

Then came the post-op: three months in bed, still hardly walking, with atrophied muscles and the weight melting away — I lost 12 kg I didn’t have.

From Nov/24 to Jun/25, it was seven months without really being able to walk.

In Jul/25, I started walking for an hour and, for the first time, I felt like I was coming back to life — finally learning to walk again.

Since then, I’ve been doing physiotherapy and Pilates, getting stronger and trying to find a new way to work — without overloading my body, but without stopping creating.

While all this was happening, Larissa held every thread together.
She took care of the house, of Matteo, studied, finished her diploma in Early Childhood Education, and became the foundation of everything.

Our plan for residency changed direction and came to depend on her — and even so, she saw it through.

In the middle of it all, we still had a sponsor promise that didn’t happen.
The school changed management and we realized we had believed a lie.

Today, we’re starting over once again — with a new school that opened its doors to us and can, again, change our future.

But the cost is another challenge: AUD$20K to apply for the new sponsor visa by December 2025 and keep our family’s dream going.

And in the middle of that chaos, BE CALM AND KIND was born.
Or, for the close ones, BE.C.K.

A brand that believes in hemp as a symbol of personal, community, and life regeneration.
Just as hemp regenerates the soil, I believe it can also help regenerate people, stories, and purposes.

Drop Zero and One — Learning to Walk Again is our first step.
A way to tell our story and use rock bottom as a springboard for bigger leaps.

Here on beck.club, I want to share longer texts —
things I hope help you think, breathe, and (re)connect.

On Instagram, I want to post the opposite of brain rot and the infinite scroll:
real content about self-knowledge, philosophy, self-care,
and about living outside the algorithm.

There’s nothing left to stumble on
Through hardship we rise
Ready for a new beginning
Learning to walk again

Feel the loss
Rebuild
And walk toward what will come

We wish ourselves strength
Since the worst has passed
May we have the courage
To hold hands

Feel, live, and tear down
And accept what once harmed us

They imploded everything
That oppressed them
They had to remake
Their beliefs

Feel the victory
Rebuild
And walk toward what will come

Even if we almost doubt…
Even if we almost
Can’t accept it…