The room was filled with hope. Not the kind you're probably thinking of—at least, not predominantly. There was a palpable sense of anticipation for improvement and grandeur—hopes for recognition, attention, and self-promotion, all centered around the figure of the evening: the Pilgrim of Life.

This self-proclaimed title belongs to a coach, perhaps the most well-known coach in Portugal. The event was more crowded than the last time I attended, which I once considered the greatest show on earth—according to the Pilgrim’s perception, of course. One must feed the ego.

This time, the children of the attendees were allowed into the same circle. On the surface, one might argue that including the next generation in this “movement” or way of thinking promotes values like courage and self-challenge. After all, what parent doesn’t want the best for their children? The flagship ideas of the Pilgrim’s group—knowing oneself, overcoming personal challenges—seem positive. But beneath these ideas lies a more sinister objective: the harvesting of young minds through a convenient entry point—family. A young teenager, brought by their parents, might naturally assume everything is normal.

And so, the harvesting of minds begins, with the added benefit of securing future paychecks, as long as the current parents remain invested in this Improvement Simulacrum. While the Pilgrim’s movement is not as dangerous as some other groups I’ve mentioned, the mechanics are undeniably similar. Groups like The Children of God (also known as the International Family) from the 1960s and the Twelve Tribes from the 1970s also used children and teenagers to spread their central message. The Pilgrim isn’t quite there yet, but one must begin somewhere.

Moving on. We stood there, some facing upcoming challenges, others simply watching the show unfold. The Pilgrim wasn’t alone this time. To enhance the effect and immersion, he brought company—trendy and, in one case, well-trained in the art of soul-harvesting. We were introduced to Kalid (David Gabriel Viegas) and Maria Gorjão Henriques, an alleged expert in Family Constellations—a topic I’ll address in a future article.

The event began with the usual shenanigans about self-improvement. Don’t get me wrong; I’m in favor of self-improvement. So why the vitriol? It comes down to the essence of the message and, upon reflection, its delivery.

You see, the Pilgrim of Life is deliberately vague about what kind of improvement is needed. His broad and non-specific rhetoric is a convenient strategy for someone with little to offer. At my first event, the format was straightforward: attendees shared their experiences, and the Pilgrim responded with vague, clichéd phrases and pseudo-clever perspectives. His answers lacked detailed plans, either in group settings or one-on-one mentorship. Offering specific guidance would undermine the image he strives to project—one of a wise man. By keeping his message subjective, he ensures that the audience can interpret it as they see fit, which is better for business.

As P.T. Barnum once said, “There is something for everyone.”

The Pilgrim’s message promotes self-reliance through self-shame, encapsulated in the roughly translated, trademarked motto, "Have some shame." The essence of the message is: You must do it. You must overcome yourself, or else, what are you doing with your life? Don’t complain when everything falls apart.

Silly and insubstantial. A bunch of self-evident sentences that don't really help.

As a coach, he has the luxury of merely questioning others, making them think, which is uncomfortable for them but convenient for him.

Let’s move on.

The Pilgrim has introduced a new element into his message—a prelude to his pursuit of broader, more profitable audiences.

He aimed for a universal cash cow—God.

Throughout the event, the Pilgrim mentioned God fifty-nine times directly and twenty-two times indirectly, referring to every technical difficulty as “the enemy.” This expression is commonly used by evangelists and religious cults worldwide, particularly in Brazil. Perhaps this hints at his future direction—towards a more religious, evangelical audience.

He alternated references to God with mentions of his late daughter—too young, in my opinion, to have passed.

As a parent myself, it’s inconceivable to even imagine such a loss. But the issue here isn’t his grief; it’s his continuous use of that tragedy to bolster his authority over the suffering of others.

No one, it seems, has suffered like he has—except a woman who lost her entire family in a tragedy. You can see him holding back with her, which suggests a darker intent. The shyness of his bravado has a purpose.

By carefully directing his dialogue, he uses her pain to validate his position, weaponizing her story, with an inherent message of pain and loss, against the audience.

If caught off guard, you’re forced to concede to his authority, even if only through silence.

Arguing against him would be too messy, potentially casting you as someone with unresolved issues. Even others with a mindset similar to mine might think, “Why bother? He’ll fall on his own.”

But we should bother. We must bother.

We’re talking about the hopes and dreams of other human beings, and the Pilgrim is exploiting them for self-indulgence, ego maintenance, and financial gain, both short and long term.

The presentation continued, repeating the same theme. The unchanged, ever-present message reflects the stagnation of its deliverer—merely a facade and a medium supported by a poor marketing machine.

How? It goes beyond my imagination.

During the presentation, the theft of awareness revealed a glimpse of his smirking smile.

Let me provide some context.

This was the fourth class produced by the Heroes coaching program.

In the room were the third and fourth generations of “Heroes.”

I pause here to ask an important question, following the above-mentioned loss of his child.

What is common to all heroes? A cape? Super strength? The ability to fly?

No.

They were all ordinary people until tragedy transformed them.

The Pilgrim of Life was born from his daughter’s suffering and unfortunate death.

To clarify, he was already immersed in coaching, attending Tony Robbins’ program while his daughter was in the hospital.

Enough said.

The show continues.

With both generations in one room, the atmosphere felt excessive and overboard. The fourth class noticed the Pilgrim’s rudeness in his private life, his desire for power over others, and his pretense of “you must do this or think that to evolve.”

This applies especially to his inner circle—the staff who support him with little to no payment in return, while he indulges in fancy cars, leisure travels, and luxurious tastes.

In summary:

Arrogance as a reward for those who help him.

Minimal or no payment for those who support his infrastructure.

A sense of superiority towards non-staff members.

I understand that the Pilgrim needs to make money, but respect is better earned through delivering what you promise and treating clients well.

A prostitute delivers the product and treats the client better than the Pilgrim, and for that, it deserves far more respect.

The Pilgrim’s metamorphosis was noticeable to those who accompanied him during the fourth Heroes edition, and this happened for one reason: time.

The fourth class was with him before and after his recent turning point.

The line of change is not blurred; it sharpens.

The fifth generation doesn’t care as much as the fourth, focusing more on “what can you do for me quickly so I can gain prominence.”

Ironically, this could be seen as karma, a reflection of the Pilgrim’s behaviors and choices. The fifth generation seems more focused on taking rather than learning.

Almost poetic. The inventor gets killed by his invention. Mary Shelley, anyone?

A brief reference to his ex-wife is worth including in this article.

In a social media post, she allows the reader to catch a glimpse of what I have been suspecting all along. The Pilgrim is a coward.

In this facebook page that belongs to the Pilgrim’s ex-wife, you catch a glimpse of the Pilgrim’s (that goes by the name of Vincente, there i said it) false persona, and what’s behind it’s ugly face. I will put an image of the said post, but only enough for you to search for it.

The rest is up to you.

and it’s english translation:

(sic)...I would have loved, LOVED, for "Vicente" to have truly been for Nonô everything he dreams he was...

I would give my life so that today I wouldn’t have to hear the “stories” that "Vicente" tells people, stories that, sadly, only carry half the truth most of the time.

Nonô's mother, ME, VANESSA, never hid behind “stories,” never hid her name, and never allowed Nonô to be or feel alone, not for a single day of her life.

Nonô's mother never afforded herself the luxury of "Vicente."

She couldn’t…”

Let’s pause.

I don’t recommend suffering.

The purpose of life is to diminish suffering through pleasure, happiness, and love. But I’m not the one telling others to be ashamed of themselves while lacking the authority to do so.

The Pilgrim’s image is dark, corrupted. It’s built from the unfulfilled desire of what he wished he could have been for his daughter and wife, reliving it out of time, turning it into profit, and becoming an instrument of bullying. He numbs his pain by inflicting it upon others through gentle—and sometimes not so gentle—manipulation. His motto of “Have some shame” is a message, not for others, but for himself, that he will repeat again and again until his final hour comes, persecuted by shadows that only cowards know.

And he knows this.

Moving on with the show.

This manipulative streak became visible when he said, “I feel that we are not a family anymore, not like before, and this is due to some of you—some bad apples. Make no mistake, I created this family, and just as I brought you here, I can remove you. I won’t hesitate unless I feel we are all thinking the same way and are a family again.” This sounds remarkably like a man trying to manipulate and dominate his family. I wonder if he got the experience from his previous real family.

He surely has the hang of it.

This is also ego masturbation towards his followers. Worse still, it’s aggression towards those he’s supposed to help—people who sought him for guidance, solace, and comfort, only to find a hollow little man, full of fear and trembling for recognition, at any cost.

A cult leader.

Even if we ignore the human dimension and the damage this can inflict on the most sincere and sensitive of his followers, one fact remains—they are his customers, paying large sums of money for guidance, not insults and threats. The aura of tough love is expected when the motto is “have some shame,” but tolerance toward rudeness and harsh words grows until the line between coach and guru blurs.

And blurred it is.

To reinforce one last, loose suggestion, made previously: those who followed his evolution can see a clear trajectory towards Brazil and a broader, more profitable audience. I place a bet with the reader that he will use the loving memory of his daughter for something even uglier than now.

If you concede that the best way to ensure financial success in Brazil is through religion and spirituality, the logical step is to embrace the mannerisms, message, and atmosphere of an evangelical pastor, albeit with the Pilgrim of Life twist. He may claim to communicate with his daughter, promoting her memory as a guiding spirit to help others.

This would be shameful and obscene, just as it is now with his current exploitation of her memory to gain the upper emotional hand.

#HaveSomeShame.