It had been a difficult day at work. Among several problems common to the daily life of a company, I was dealing with the growing demands of Fátima, a talented illustrator of a series of children’s books written by various Brazilian authors, still unpublished. It was her responsibility to create the images that populated the narratives of the different dreamlike universes. She did so with rare skill. She held several awards for her excellent work. The first published titles had been a great success. Many stories were still waiting in the pipeline of editions. Texts that needed refinement, drawings awaiting creation. From the original idea to the final work, there is a long and laborious journey. The fact was that, each day, the talented illustrator became more demanding, interfering in the functioning of the publishing house in sectors that were not related to her field of activity. She argued that everything in the publishing house was interconnected and, therefore, affected the way her work was seen by the public. Thus, in her understanding, she was merely exercising a legitimate right. She demanded changes in methods and attitudes, always with the threat of withdrawing from the project already underway if her guidelines were not followed. She imposed changes in the texts, in the font used in layout, in the type of paper used for printing, and much more. These were responsibilities that did not belong to her to decide. Although all sectors of the company were connected, not all decisions were pertinent to her. Other professionals were responsible for their respective areas, according to their specific skills. As she had great prestige and was sought after in the market by several publishers, out of fear of losing her, even though I considered her demands unfounded, I always gave in. In the routine of employees and collaborators, an unconscious care to always please her took hold, even if it displeased everyone. Despite the success, I was not well.
I was thinking about this as I walked through the cross streets lined with trees in Gávea, heading toward Bárbara’s café, the barista who had given up her psychology clinic without, however, abandoning the mysteries of the psyche. Located in an old and well-preserved mansion, it served espressos, cappuccinos, and frappés with unique flavours. Although there was no sign or lettering on the door, the place was always filled, with tables occupied in its various rooms, decorated with bookshelves and harmonized with the sound of jazz, soul, and bossa nova, audible yet soft, so that no one needed to raise their voice to be heard. The inner garden, with sofas and armchairs shaded by a leafy mango tree, was the perfect setting for afternoons of reading. Twice a week, in the early evening, without any academic formalism, but with the simple and necessary depth within everyone’s reach, Bárbara gave brief talks about the pains and pleasures of the soul. At times, at any hour of the day, upon noticing an anguish on the verge of eruption, she would sit at a table to offer words capable of awakening flashes of clarity and doses of serenity. No matter how complicated a problem may seem, where there is lucidity and balance, there will be a good path. However, it was not possible to request a consultation. The barista chose the interlocutor. She brushed it off by saying that this was not a clinic, but a café. In truth, it was much more.
There was no free table. I went to the counter to wait. To my surprise, I ran into Maria Clara, a school friend of one of my daughters. She smiled when she saw me. It had been years since I had last seen her. The young woman said she was married to Gabriel, a doctor she had met when they were both students in medical school. They had three small children. Although she had also graduated, she had specialized in general surgery after a difficult training period in the emergency room of a busy public hospital, she had left her career to dedicate herself to her family. This allowed her husband to devote himself more intensely to his profession. In addition to being intelligent and charming, he had become a sought-after ophthalmic surgeon. They had acquired a beautiful apartment in Leblon, one of the most upscale neighbourhoods in the city. The children studied at an excellent school, and every year they travelled abroad. She had the life of a princess, she said.
“Princesses usually have a sad joy,” we heard from a voice behind the counter. It was Bárbara. The barista served us two espressos as a courtesy for the wait and, before I could make any mention of the evident contradiction in the expression sad joy, she explained: “I refer to the joy of living the dreamed world, contrasted with the disappointment of not finding within oneself the feelings expected upon arriving at the desired destination. Then, an incomprehensible pain arises”. Maria Clara said she did not understand. The barista clarified: “Outwardly, everything perfect. Inwardly, nothing satisfied”. The young mother admitted that, in fact, there was in her a senseless sadness. She suffered from depression but was medicated. Although she knew there was no pharmaceutical capable of curing the pains of the soul, she claimed there was no reason to feel sad. She would soon be well. She had a perfect life. Bárbara shrugged and reflected: “Perhaps you are missing from yourself. Then, everything will be too little”.
The waiter interrupted us to inform that a table had become available. He asked if we would sit together. We agreed. That conversation needed to continue. Bárbara joined us. After we were seated, the barista went straight to the point: “Princesses choose their clothes, shoes, jewellery, the brand of the car, and the restaurant where they will have lunch with their friends. In some cases, even where the family will go on the weekend. In short, they have enormous power to decide about existential trifles”. Maria Clara asked her to explain better. The barista clarified: “The issue lies in the power to decide about one’s own destiny. I am not referring to the destination of summer vacation. I am talking about living according to one’s own perceptions and choices regarding the direction one wishes to go beyond appearances and superficial decisions. In the person one plans to become and the internal revolutions one needs to carry out. I am speaking of emotional balance, mental clarity, and material autonomy. The maturity of the soul requires the rupture of all types of dependency. Until that happens, the mold will be someone else’s model, never the choice of one’s own way. The fear of losing something or someone we consider fundamental to our well-being inhibits the growth of who we originally are. We end up yielding beyond the limits of personal identity. We become someone other than ourselves. The insistence on a lifestyle that does not align with the essence that animates and expresses it, although often within a socially desired and considered ideal standard, is also a cause of depression”.
She took a sip of coffee and commented: “If I have a wonderful life, why do I feel sad? Princes and princesses ask themselves this every day. Feelings that seem to make no sense are messengers of unknown truths. What so perfectly completes one person may not fit another. It is not a matter of number and size, but of seasoning and flavour”.
Maria Clara seemed uncomfortable. She said the barista was flirting with rudeness. Bárbara asked that her words, although hard and strong, not be received with any trace of aggression. That was not her intention: “I merely propose lines of reasoning that, by opposing ideas, concepts, and standards previously accepted without much questioning, tear the colourful fabric of a reality with pleasant features. However, behind it hide contradictory feelings, incapable of sustaining deeper moments of happiness. As long as the origin of the pain remains misunderstood, despite a life with perfect outlines, this sad joy will persist as a reminder of the forgotten essence”.
The young mother shook her head in denial. She loved and admired her husband. She loved her children and lived the dream of a perfect and comfortable life. She lacked nothing, she assured. Bárbara fell silent for a few moments. She recalled the teaching of an old alchemist of souls who said that until you have yourself, nothing will be enough. However, that had already been said in another way during the conversation. She slowly took a long sip of coffee, as if weighing the power of her next words, and finally decided on the necessary blow: “You went through sleepless nights of study for college exams, you interned on the brink of despair in the emergency rooms of public hospitals, only to, in the end, merely find a husband and become a mother..”., she paused deliberately before finishing the question: “…or is there something equally valuable that was left behind?” There was a silence like a confession. Without waiting for the suppressed answer, the barista reminded her: “It is necessary to reclaim what was abandoned within yourself. No one abandons a gift in vain. We all have a gift. Yours is to heal. Every gift reveals the sacred love of a soul for life and better equips the individual to climb the mountains of existence”. Then, referring to the apparent conflict between family and profession, she concluded: “Does one choice cancel the other, or, in many cases, is there room for a harmonious coexistence between interests of such important value?”
As if her soul were laid bare, Maria Clara looked at her, unsettled. The barista continued: “Each individual must trace the map of their spiritual development. It is not easy, for the sacred must manifest itself in the ordinary situations of daily life, not only within churches and temples as many imagine. A person evolves by what they do, never by what they think or feel, no matter how noble their thoughts and feelings may be. The degree of difficulty increases when we realize that there are no two identical maps. If perceptions and sensitivities are different, and they always are, the routes must also be. Therefore, no comparison is sensible”. The young wife asked her to speak a little more about this so-called map. Bárbara explained: “The map of spiritual development is an original project of self-construction. There is nothing wrong with those who spend their mornings by the seaside, between Pilates classes, conversations with other mothers at the school gate, and the reading of good novels or delightful teas in the middle of the afternoon. They can follow their children’s development more closely and are always well-disposed at night. Not without reason, many desire the routine of these peaceful days. Not for lack of good reasons would they consider it madness to give up this wonderful tranquillity in exchange for the stress and daily anguish of trying to save lives bathed in blood, bodies pierced by bullets or broken in accidents. However, what is hell for many is the true gateway to heaven for a few”. She looked seriously at Maria Clara and concluded: “There are souls forged to bring light to those lost in the darkness of deep pain. They will not know authentic joy while they remain distant from their original purpose”.
Maria Clara’s coffee had gone cold. I made a gesture to ask for a replacement. She looked at her watch and declined the offer. She said she needed to pick up the children at school. A bit embarrassed, she thanked us for the conversation, said goodbye, and left.
Bárbara looked at me as if to say that reaction is common when one glimpses the destiny waiting ahead. She asked the waiter to bring two more espressos. Doubles, I added. I needed to think. In some way I still could not understand, that conversation had affected me. The barista smiled and provoked: “How about talking a little about the sad joy that overflows from your eyes?” I was surprised. I said I did not know what she meant. Bárbara explained: “When we set aside choices out of fear of consequences or losses, we allow a weed called dependency to take root, capable of suffocating the soul, provoking sadness and, over time, giving rise to depression. A product of fear and the mistaken belief in one’s own inability to overcome the inevitable difficulties inherent to existence, dependency brings along another illness of the soul: stagnation, which makes one’s spirit, life, and dreams rot. A grave loss. Even if, apparently, everything around is perfect, the heart is not satisfied. It is necessary to react. Every dependency makes us less when we could be more”. It was not difficult to associate those words with the growing demands and absurd interferences of the illustrator of the publishing house’s children’s book collection. Although I considered Fátima’s behaviour abusive, I was afraid that, by opposing her wishes, I would no longer have her talent in the publisher’s works. An unhealthy relationship that, as a natural consequence, left me unwell, despite the excellent financial returns.
I commented that any interpersonal relationship must deal with the factor of the other. There will always be before me a person different in many aspects from who I am. Perspectives and intentions, perceptions and sensitivities, choices and desires. Bárbara did not disagree, but reflected: “Differences can be highly positive elements of interaction, provided they serve to teach and indicate unthinkable possibilities for growth. Each person is a certain way. Therefore, every relationship involves two distinct universes that coexist in search of healthy coexistence. The intersection between these universes will never be total, it will always occur in part, with greater or lesser interaction, depending on the harmony and affinities they share. However, this is not a problem. On the contrary, when well handled, it will drive unlikely solutions and mutual learning. For this, no one should settle in another’s shadow. It is necessary for each person to learn to walk with the clarity generated by their own light”.
I said I could not fit those words into the situation with the illustrator. The barista explained: “I am referring to the dilemma between coherence and convenience”. She took a sip of coffee and continued: “Coherence is the exact action aligned with the understanding of one’s conscience. Doing what is right without fear of material consequences. Coherence is the foundation of selflessness, the virtue that prioritizes spiritual values over worldly advantages. Convenience, in turn, dialogues with fear and complacency, accepts dependency, and allows itself to be corroded by stagnation. When convenience abounds, coherence is lacking. Where there are privileges, there is no justice. Coherence demands risks and sacrifices, while convenience signals comfort and the illusion of security. Genuine joy is never in the pleasures of the world, but in the dignity of the spirit that animates, identifies, and expresses each individual”. She emptied the coffee from her cup and concluded: “Coherence is one of the pillars of ethics, the art of nobility in virtues applied to all situations of daily life. On the other side of the coin is opportunistic, deceitful, and cowardly convenience. It offers shortcuts that lead us back to the starting point, in a sad repetition of vicious cycles. Coherence is the narrow door of evolutionary refinement, of the dignity in making the right moves, of the freedom in living without fear, and of the inner peace gained on a journey carried out along the tracks of conscience. Without coherence, love is shallow and happiness will remain a mere fiction”.
We were interrupted by the sudden and abrupt arrival of Maria Clara. With swollen, reddened eyes from sincere and irrepressible tears, she gave a gentle kiss on the barista’s cheek, opened her purse, showed a stethoscope as if revealing a secret and a decision. She whispered thank you very much and left. An inner revolution had begun that afternoon. We smiled.
Then Bárbara stood up to return to work. Without needing to say a word, she left me with an unusual content, full of stimulating elements for me to reflect and decide between the coherence and the convenience of my recent actions. The fact is that, after we understand the meaning and reach of certain behaviours, choices are reduced to freeing the soul or keeping it imprisoned in fear and dependency. The decision is defined between the joy or the sadness of our days. When the choice matures, it becomes simple and inevitable.
The following morning, some changes took place at the publishing house. I had a frank conversation with the illustrator. We wanted to continue working with her, but she should restrict herself to her professional field. Understanding limits is essential to living with respect. With the same inconsistent arguments, Fátima refused to accept the new conditions. She resigned. We had to look in the market for a new illustrator. As it took longer than expected, the project was delayed and we suffered a considerable loss. Nothing that affected the well-being of living in harmony with the principles and values that guided my conscience. With coherence, without yielding to the temptations of convenience. Despite the losses and the uncertainties that awaited me due to the necessary course corrections, which always take us to unknown places, I was at peace. I felt a joy that would seem strange if I had not been given to know its true origin.
Just as no one is the same as anyone else, the style of two artists is also different. When we hired Jonas, the new illustrator, the solution found was to divide the collections. The new collection brought unpublished texts, now illustrated by another artist. A different title was necessary to register the difference in styles. As habit and taste can become a paralyzing addiction, it is worth noting the absurd habit of comparing differences: what is unique fits within itself, with its own sorrows and beauties, and it is inappropriate to use the same measure to evaluate something extraordinary precisely because there is nothing else like it, like you and me, at first, the public found it strange and rejected the lines they did not know. With time, and little by little, talent, quality, and dedicated work end up flourishing. Until one morning, after a few months, upon arriving at the publishing house, I was surprised by the news that the new collection had matched the previous one in readers’ preference. Sales reflected this. Certainly, the lucidity that life never abandons those who move toward its authentic meanings. Certainly as well that the café in Gávea offers far more than delicious espressos, cappuccinos, and frappés.
Translated by: Cazmilian Zórdic
