Nádia worked with us at the publishing house. An excellent employee, she was in charge of the financial department. Accounts payable, receivables, accounting with bookstores and printing companies. There were countless numbers and details. She performed her duties impeccably. She was a kind and attentive person, except on the days when she had an argument with her husband. Then, with swollen, reddened eyes, she would not leave her office to interact with the other employees, whether over coffee, at lunch, or even during those brief moments of rest and relaxation that are indispensable to good work. On those days, work served as an escape, a way of putting her problems on hold for a while. She would usually remain that way until, a few mornings later, she appeared smiling and cheerful, as though the recent sadness and troubles had never existed. Without anything needing to be said, we knew she had reconciled with Mauro, to whom she had been married for more than ten years. Perhaps because of their recurring arguments, perhaps because of the lifestyle they had adopted, the couple had chosen not to have children.
Their disagreements were constant. Over the years, the distance between them grew slowly and gradually. With each passing day, they became accustomed to a relationship devoid of care, tenderness, and affection, as though growing apart were something normal and commonplace. It was striking that Nádia was always dressed in extremely expensive designer clothes, carrying designer handbags and wearing designer shoes, in addition to driving a luxury car and taking international trips during her vacations. There was nothing wrong with that. Yet it was clear that their spending was incompatible with the couple’s financial means. Still, that was a matter concerning them and no one else.
Unlike usual, Nádia did not come to the publishing house that Friday. She had spent the week hidden away in her office, signalling yet another of the couple’s endless disagreements. We noticed her absence. We called, but she did not answer; we sent her a message, but received no reply. Worried, I went to her house. I found her emotionally devastated. Mauro had ended the marriage for good. Since he worked for a company headquartered in São Paulo, he had requested a transfer there. They were getting divorced. Resolute, he had told her that he needed to start a new life and adjust his standard of spending to match his salary. The couple was drowning in debt. For some time, he had been talking to his wife about her avalanche of purchases and their recurring trips to expensive destinations, habitual practices of an increasingly overwhelming addiction. Nádia argued that she wanted to be happy and enjoy life. Since dialogue had proven insufficient for them to find a point of light where different perspectives could align within a common and healthy space of coexistence, he packed his suitcase and left. He would start over without her. If he stayed, he would succumb to the erasure of his own will and personality, he explained to his wife.
I tried to talk to Nádia, but her despair made it impossible for her to listen. She loved her husband. I prepared her some lemon balm and chamomile tea and let her cry until she fell asleep on the sofa. I wrote her a note advising her to take a vacation so she would have time to put the shelves of her life in order, placing each idea and feeling in its proper place. And, if she believed it necessary, to chart a new course. It is never too late to make the necessary adjustments. At first, she agreed. A few days later, she appeared at the publishing house to work. She was a little better. Although she relied on phrases about overcoming adversity, typical of those used during difficult moments, her expression could not conceal how far she still was from being able to use those concepts as tools for transformation. Glimpsing a different reality is not enough to live it. One must move according to that new perspective. Otherwise, they will be nothing more than striking phrases filled with empty effects. Before long, she would plunge into the abyss of her own misunderstandings.
Without question, at that moment work would serve as occupational therapy, infinitely more useful than idleness. Yet Nádia needed to adjust her course if she wanted to move forward. Otherwise, she would continue walking like someone with no direction. In cases like this, chaos takes possession of our destinies, leaving no good place to live within ourselves. I had always been clumsy when it came to conversations of this kind, not to mention that she was immersed in a very dense psychic atmosphere. Her thoughts were defeatist, and her feelings were eating away at her. I suggested that we go and speak with Aunt Francisca, the folk healer from Madureira. I argued that a good prayer accompanied by some good advice, even if it did no good, certainly could do no harm. She agreed immediately.
For those who do not know her, Aunt Francisca is a thin Black woman with white hair, possessed of uncommon wisdom and refined speech. She lives on a quiet, tree-lined street running perpendicular to the train station, in the same simple and humble house where I first met her when I was still a child, brought there by my father, who was concerned about that disruptive and absent-minded boy. Seated in her worn blue armchair, “the colour of Our Lady’s mantle,” before the altar bearing images of “Master Jesus, Mother Mary, and the Holy Warrior,” Aunt Francisca would welcome me affectionately and pray over me with faith, words, and herbs. At the end, she would embrace me and whisper in my ear that I should not worry. Time would show everyone that my behaviour was not a problem, but a path. It took me a very long time to understand that. As usual, she had been right. She could see what most people were incapable of seeing. I had always regarded her as a beacon for navigation on foggy days. Her age is a mystery no one dares discuss. The clock keeps running without the hands of time ever catching up with her. They say things like that only happen in Madureira.
The waiting line was long. Sometimes, that is a very good thing. Exercising patience calms the soul and brings clarity to one’s vision. We were the last to be seen, already late in the afternoon. Aunt Francisca’s energy, enthusiasm, and affection remained untouched by fatigue or the passing hours. She welcomed us with a beautiful smile and a warm embrace. I introduced Nádia and said I would leave them alone. The healer said no. She asked me to sit on one of the small white wooden stools. My participation in the conversation was important so that I could remind Nádia of what she could not afford to forget if she wished to transform the dark atmosphere within her own heart.
With her customary sweetness, Aunt Francisca asked, “When did everything begin to fall apart, child?”. Nádia replied that it had begun when her husband left for São Paulo. Mauro no longer even answered her messages. The healer responded, “By then, demolition had already given way to destruction. Let me ask the question again. When did the walls of the relationship begin to crumble? In romantic relationships, growing apart usually precedes the rupture”. The young woman searched through the drawers of her memory for the day when the distancing might have begun. With each compartment she opened, she remembered an earlier event, in a succession of incidents that seemed endless. Despite her effort, she could not determine when the first brick had fallen from the wall. Aunt Francisca reflected, “You probably did not give the event the attention it deserved. After all, no house collapses because of a single brick. In many cases, neglect becomes routine, details lose their importance, and differences grow enormous, until intimacy and living together begin to resemble a punishment. These are clear signs that something very serious is happening. We close our eyes so we do not have to see what we are unwilling to confront. That does not stop the bricks from continuing to fall from the walls. Until one morning, upon waking, we realize that the house has collapsed”. She paused and added, “Love is healing, never suffering. If love truly exists, but there is also pain, it means that harmful feelings or behaviours are suffocating love, just as weeds damage the most beautiful gardens when the gardener is careless”.
Nádia confessed that she and her husband had recurring arguments because of the enormous amounts she spent on clothes and travel. She said she had no regrets. She was a beautiful, young woman, full of life. She was hungry for life. She wanted to be happy and enjoy the best the world had to offer. Although she was suffering from the breakup of the relationship, she wanted someone beside her who shared the lifestyle, standards, and habits she considered essential in order to life not to be wasted on routines of too much work and too little pleasure. Since she worked hard, she needed to have fun and enjoy life even more. She admitted that perhaps the separation was the best thing that could have happened. Apparently resigned, she shrugged and said she had no doubt that she would find someone else who would make her happy.
Without saying anything, Aunt Francisca prayed over her with devotion and faith. A few minutes later, without abandoning her customary sweetness, she said firmly, “The young lady may go. What was mine to do has been done”. Taken aback, Nádia said she had expected comfort and good advice from the visit. The healer replied, “Child, you were welcomed with affection. Yet you diagnosed your own pain and said that you know the medicine that will cure it. It is not my place to tell you that you are wrong. After all, the life is yours, as are the consequences of the course that, through fortune or misfortune, you have chosen to follow”. She picked up a mug of coffee resting on the floor, took a sip, and added, “Advice is useful only to those willing to reflect upon the truths that guide them. As for everyone else, it is my duty to respect their perspective and their decisions. The young lady’s convictions seem unshakable to me. The right to decide the course of one’s own life is inalienable”.
Those words had a profound impact on Nádia. She fell silent for a few moments, gathered her thoughts, apologized for her impulsive manner, and said that she was interested in hearing the healer’s perspective on what she was going through. It was a humble and sincere request, she assured her. Aunt Francisca’s lips curved into a gentle smile as she explained, “The journey of healing the soul usually begins when suffering becomes unbearable or, in rarer cases, when we pay attention to discomfort and unease and resort to prevention before the illness can take hold. In either case, inner movements must precede outward ones. For the latter to be firm and properly directed, they must be the exact reflection of the lucidity and balance of the former”.
She paused briefly before continuing, “Humility opens the heart to transformation, an effective healing elixir. Sincerity, in turn, pulls us out of sameness and creates the courage indispensable for dismantling obsolete habits that have long kept us stagnant in comfortable or imperceptible patterns of vice. There is no vice more harmful than a way of seeing that is incapable of glimpsing different colours, landscapes, and paths while standing in an orchard of fruitless ideas”.
Nádia said she felt trapped in an energetic snare. She confessed that she needed help. Aunt Francisca furrowed her brow and remarked with a mixture of seriousness and tenderness, “The harmful energies have been driven away temporarily. Yet they may return at any moment. The trap that holds you captive has existential roots. We do not attract and emanate what we desire, but what resonates with who we are. There must be an understanding of the elements that compose us. Each person is expressed through thoughts, feelings, choices, and actions. The energies that accompany us have an affinity with us. Good or bad, we live with the consequences of this composition. To alter our energetic frequency, we must change our way of being and living. Thus, each person defines their own path and becomes responsible for their own destiny”.
Nádia commented that her husband had been a coward. He had broken a pact. Ever since they had met, they had agreed that they would enjoy everything the best that life had to offer. In the beginning, everything had been wonderful. But now he seemed more concerned with money than with being happy. Mauro no longer seemed like the same person. When she had met him, he had been a man full of dreams and ideals. He had changed a great deal. It was true that they had accumulated many debts, but there were more important things. He had grown old too soon. Aunt Francisca listened patiently and, when she had finished, reflected, “Remaining young does not mean living a life of recklessness, but being willing to undergo endless change. Especially because recklessness comes at a price, often one that is far too high. Youth is not chronological, but behavioural. Those who dare to renew their perspective and their choices whenever they recognize the need to be reborn through successive deconstructions and consequent inner reconstructions remain young. It means being willing to become someone else when one’s way of being and living no longer has the strength to carry one beyond where one currently stands within oneself. Life demands dynamism. I am not speaking of wandering aimlessly through a universe of shallow purposes. I am speaking of movement with meaning and direction, breadth and depth. To grow old is to remain static in the face of the ceaseless existential metamorphoses proposed by life. Perhaps Mauro has not grown old. Perhaps he has matured. Because you did not understand this, you reached the wrong conclusion”.
She placed her mug on the floor and continued, “Maturing is the only safe and effective method of rejuvenation. It teaches us to accept the consequences of our own decisions, learn from setbacks, and improve ourselves through every experience. It does not allow us to give up searching for different seeds when the trees wither or the fruits turn bitter. It means relying primarily on oneself as a means of reclaiming power over one’s own existence, making use of whatever tools are currently available, without ever complaining about the existing conditions presented by life. It is the opposite of complacency, discouragement, and recklessness. It means seeing the beautiful face of learning offered by difficult times. No one matures while maintaining the same habits, choices, and routines. When something changes within us, it eventually becomes reflected in our way of being and living. These are extraordinary experiences of regeneration and rejuvenation. All maturation translates into evolution. All evolution unfolds through infinite beginnings without ever knowing an end. Failing to understand this journey reveals immaturity. Repeating obsolete patterns reveals the true face of aging”.
Unconvinced, Nádia argued that she was a woman who valued elegance, unlike Mauro, who over time had developed what she called a poor person’s mentality. He seemed to have given up on the good side of life. Aunt Francisca furrowed her brow and replied, “True elegance has nothing to do with money, luxury, or sophistication”. The young woman said she did not understand. The healer explained, “Perhaps Mauro has discovered the value found in simplicity, a virtue whose power lies in revealing the wealth found only in the essence of every person, thing, and situation. The refinement that so seduces the multitudes is, in truth, equivalent to the rubble concealing the diamond beneath the surface of existence. The superfluous functions like curtains and ornaments that prevent the light from passing through. Remove the excess, and what remains is the wealth contained in less. It is not about what we wear, but where we are going. Thus, although it is neither a rule nor something quite so luxurious, an afternoon in Madureira can be more meaningful, chic, and pleasant than one in Montmartre. Meaning, elegance, and joy reside in details invisible to immature, hurried, and inattentive eyes. The substance of our inner movements and the way we move through our days bring more meaning, beauty, elegance, and wealth than the opulence of our clothes or our surroundings. Authentic elegance is not found in the brilliance of sophistication. It resides in the light of simplicity. Elegance does not speak in prices. It reveals itself through actions of value. No one can buy what can only be attained through consciousness and behaviour”.
Nádia reminded her that Mauro had broken the couple’s pact. She felt betrayed. They had established and agreed upon a model of happiness. Little by little, he had become unrecognizable. They had lost their harmony, she said. Aunt Francisca nodded. “Without question, the affinity is no longer the same. It is not his fault. With every purchase or trip, another became necessary in the vain attempt to replace something undefined that was missing. An emptiness impossible to fill with possessions and excursions. Everything was nothing, and nothing was enough. An insatiable hunger. While you remained obstinate, Mauro came to understand that this lifestyle would lead him nowhere. When understanding changes, tastes and flavours change with it. The pact needed to be adjusted. A transformation was waiting. He understood it. You did not”.
The healer looked affectionately at the young woman and said, “Once he understood the futility of the lifestyle you had adopted, he saw where that habit would lead you. Yet you insisted on continuing”. She waited a few moments for Nádia to follow the reasoning and continued, “Countless times, Mauro tried to explain what he had already begun to see, but you were unable or unwilling to see it. He showed you that there was an abyss where you believed there was a paradise. Mauro did not give up on happiness. He merely understood that he would never find it that way. He never betrayed you. He simply refused the precipice. He chose to leave rather than plunge into the emptiness of existence”. Nádia insisted that her husband had not needed to leave. Aunt Francisca corrected her. “He did not leave. He merely moved forward. You are the one who insists on remaining where you are. Evolution is the rhythm of life”.
The young woman nodded and fell silent. A rebellious tear escaped from her heart. The suffering was still there, but a previously unknown light had kindled in her eyes. A change in perspective transforms reality. At that moment, Nádia had managed to understand why she was surrounded by so much suffering. Lucidity brings balance, granting direction and firmness to our movements. It is not the truth that hurts, but how far we have strayed from it. Truth makes us uncomfortable because it reveals the deceptions and lies we love to believe. As if that were not enough, it also invites us to undertake the enormous effort required for an indispensable reconstruction. Not everyone is ready for the truth. That is why they avoid it. Yet only truth illuminates and transforms, heals suffering, and frees us from behavioural prisons. Once the cause is neutralized, the effect ceases. For the soul, there is no other remedy. In this way, and only in this way, new paths appear, different routes are forged, travellers rejuvenate, and destinies mature.
Enveloped in a lightness she had not felt for a long time, Nádia joked that she had gone to Madureira in search of a prayer to drive away dense energies, yet had received a lesson in elegance. Not the kind found on the pages of fashion magazines, but the kind concealed within the intricacies and essence of life. True elegance is wrapped in simplicity, virtues, and truths. It dresses itself in humility, respect, and courage, without any need for expensive clothes, costly journeys, famous hairstylists, or neon-lit runways. Value is elegance, maturity, and discretion; price is insecurity, vanity, and ostentation. Value is wealth; price is money. Elegance is the reflection of genuine power over oneself; ostentation is the manifestation of the illusion of a non-existent power over others. Discreet, sensible, and gentle, elegance carries within itself the seed of restlessness as transformation, never as recklessness, harshness, or disorientation. Elegance is averse to superficiality, arrogance, and fanfare.
Affectionately, Nádia thanked her for the pivotal conversation that afternoon, kissed Aunt Francisca on the cheek, and offered to pay for the consultation. The healer’s lips once again curved into a beautiful smile as she asked, “Go to the altar and give thanks to Our Lord Jesus Christ. To Him, all honour and glory. Nothing is owed to me”.
Inside the car on the way back, wearing an enigmatic smile, Nádia remained silent for almost the entire journey. Many ideas from that conversation were waiting to be metabolized into tools for living well. Important decisions also awaited her. Once we reached São Cristóvão, near the publishing house headquarters, she broke the silence to remark that although she knew Paris, London, and Milan, she had never met a woman more elegant than Aunt Francisca, the healer from Madureira. Nor one so wealthy. I smiled with satisfaction. It was true. Nádia had understood far more than I had imagined.
Translated by: Cazmilian Zórdic
