My father passed away from cancer a few weeks ago, after living with the disease for over fifteen years. It was a long journey, that in many ways shaped the person I am today. His first prostate cancer diagnosis came while my parents were going through a divorce. Suddenly, many of the conflicts that had seemed important became insignificant in the face of death. The illness changed the emotional gravity of our family. Even though the cancer progressed slowly for many years, the possibility of loss remained quietly present in our lives. During that period, I stayed close to my father and supported him through his decisions and treatments. At one point, when it seemed possible he would not live to see me finish college, I decided to learn a trade alongside my studies so he would not have to worry about whether I could support myself. That decision unexpectedly changed the course of my life. It led me toward massage therapy, contemplative practice, Buddhism, and eventually a life centered around service and care for others. For several years, his condition stabilized, and although we never forgot about it, life regained a sense of normalcy. I finished college and worked professionally, even travelled the world. Then his health declined again. After surgery, we learned the cancer had metastasized to the bone. The doctors told us there was little time left, yet even then, he continued living for years with remarkable resilience. Living with cancer or alongside it changes the way one understands time. You realize that no amount of time will ever feel truly sufficient, yet gratitude can help through grief. My father lost his own father before I was born, so throughout his illness I often reflected on how fortunate I was to have known him well into adulthood. I got more time to spend with my father than he did. In the final years of his illness, conversations about death were natural between us. I learned that many people are deeply uncomfortable with mortality, but I also learned how meaningful simple presence can be. Often there is nothing one can fix, no perfect words to say. Sometimes all a person can offer is steadiness, compassion, and the willingness to remain beside another person through fear and pain. When my father passed away in April, I told no one. Yet his death affected far beyond our family. As a respected biologist, his passing reached many people through the news, and I witnessed how deeply he had impacted colleagues, friends, and strangers alike. It was both comforting and overwhelming. Seeing all that collective grief reminded me that a single life can touch far more people than we realize. This long experience profoundly shaped my goals. I am now specializing in chaplaincy and Buddhist studies, as I have seen firsthand how emotional and spiritual support can help people endure illness and loss. Walking alongside my father through his cancer taught me that presence itself can be an act of care. I hope I can offer others the same steadiness and compassion that helped sustain both him and our family through the hard times.

Before finding a Sangha in Mexico City, I lived a nomadic life, moving between interests, places, and possibilities without a clear sense of direction. Buddhism changed all that. More specifically, practicing within a community transformed the way I saw life, and understood creativity, and service. I saw a way to apply all the skills I have cultivated throughout my life, in my travels, in my odd jobs… my brightest and darkest moments, I saw how they could become ways of helping others. As a cultivator in Mexico City, I quickly noticed how difficult it was to find accessible Buddhist materials in Spanish. Many foundational texts have only been translated from English, not their original, are difficult to obtain, or are written in either highly academic language, or Iberia Spanish that can feel distant to everyday in the Americas. I began studying translation with the goal of helping make Buddhist wisdom more available to Spanish-speaking communities, especially through public-domain and Creative Commons publications. Since then, I have published a small poetic book inspired by the Zen Ox-herding Pictures, exploring the spiritual path through contemporary metaphors. I have also begun publishing collections of sutras in Spanish that place an abridged, accessible rendering alongside a traditional translation (composed for recitation, not reading). At the time of writing this application, I am working on the second volume of that collection, along a translation of the Diamond Sutra together with Huineng’s commentary—likely the first translation of that commentary into Spanish directly from Chinese. Alongside this work, I am building a collection of everyday monastery vignettes, and continue writing poetry and stories inspired by Buddhist themes and figures. More importantly, Buddhism gave me a direction beyond my own personal ambitions. It taught me that study and practice are not separate from care for others. This became especially important during my father’s final months due to cancer this year. While accompanying him through pain and uncertainty, I had to put the theory into practice. During such difficult times, the most meaningful thing one can offer is presence: listening without judgment, remaining steady, and helping another person feel less alone. Buddhist practice allowed me to support him emotionally in the leading years, when people did not want to hear the word “death”; and then when it mattered most, when the word materialised. That experience deepened my wish to pursue chaplaincy alongside academic study, so I can better accompany others through grief, and difficulty, be it in person or in writing. After graduation, I aim to continue translating Buddhist texts, writing spiritual literature, teaching meditation, and serving communities through chaplaincy. I do not see a need to decide for only one approach. I believe Buddhism can meaningfully help people facing isolation, suffering, and loss, but for that to happen it must become something people can genuinely approach in their own language and cultural context. I hope to contribute to form local expressions of Buddhism in the US and Latin America, rooted practices, compassionate, intellectually alive, and accessible to ordinary people. If my work can help even a few people find greater peace within their lives, then I will consider that a life well spent.