I was not well. When that happens, one of the alternatives I resort to is climbing Pedra Bonita, a huge granite massif overlooking the Atlantic, next to Pedra da Gávea, with a view of several neighbourhoods of Rio de Janeiro. I avoid weekends because of the large crowds. I go there to meditate, pray, and reflect. Silence and stillness are essential. On sunny days the beauty is stunning. The blue of the sky blends into the blue of the sea, mixing tones until they merge into infinity. The idea of infinity has always fascinated me. Love and infinity are concepts that merge within me. I think there is no one without the other. I refer to love that is sown, without necessarily forcing anyone to accompany us. Love is the flower offered or received. Never a plant dependent on another because it considers itself incapable of developing on its own. Love is the pot of fresh water from which we drink half and leave the other part for whoever comes after. There is no love without respect, commitment, and concern that goes beyond our needs, interests, and desires. Love is the foundation of spiritual evolution, present in all virtues, as well as in the understanding of truth, upon which each individual builds their own reality.
Once, in the monastery, while studying the indispensable Sermon on the Mount, we came across the passage in which the greatest of masters addresses the crowd with the following phrase: you are the salt of the earth. Faced with the difficulty of the group in understanding the meaning of those words, the Elder, the oldest monk of the Order, explained: “Sacred texts have several layers of interpretation. All valid and true. One of the ones that most enchants me is the following: salt is the most important of seasonings. When we are offered a delicious dinner, we praise the flavour of the foods we see on the plate. Because it is invisible to the eyes after cooking, we never remember to exalt the qualities of salt. However, in the absence of salt, the food becomes bland, the flavour disappears. So it is with love, the seasoning of life”. He paused before concluding: “Live in such a way that, even if they do not see or recognize you, the joy of many has been seasoned by the hands of your love, invisible to the eyes of the world, yet essential to the taste of life”.
Let us return to the story I need to tell. This happened a few years ago. That day, it rained a lot. The climb was difficult. That moment was no different. The publishing market was in crisis. People were reading less and less. I am talking about the reading of books in which authors and readers share the same journey to fantastic places and universes. The writer shows scenes, offers characters and plots; the reader lends their imagination to add images to the words. Something so fabulous that I thought it would never end. Not even the beauty of cinema had tarnished the prestige of books; on the contrary, the same story has deeper contours and contexts in books than in films. However, everything had changed. The reasons were many. Powerful international platforms allowed the publication of digital books at zero cost. Self-publishing dispensed with the work and knowledge of editors, without caring how much quality would be lost. The profits from sales would be shared in different percentages, only between platforms and writers. Both would earn more. As if that were not enough, the technological ease of producing high-quality homemade videos and the existence of viewing platforms, along with the support of social networks for necessary promotion, converged to change the public’s taste. Short videos, just a few minutes or even a few seconds long, were taking the place of stories that stretch over hundreds of pages. That symbiotic journey between author and reader, after centuries, was numbered. Market, trend, and finance analysts were unanimous and relentless: the publishing house I had founded and worked in for a long time, the source of so much joy and professional achievement, would no longer exist in a few months. Everything changes, I always knew. There is no evolution without transformation. There was a need to reinvent myself. Now and always. I needed to find another path. I just didn’t know how or where.
I leaned against a rock, with the ocean a few hundred meters below, the cloudy sky ahead. I admired the landscape for a few moments, then closed my eyes. I ignored the rain. I needed to think, pray, and meditate. Intuition, inspiration, and reflection were indispensable to point me out of that existential labyrinth. Not only do ideas need to find their proper places on the shelves of the mind for there to be clarity; feelings also need order and understanding to serve hope and serenity, never despair and fear. I stayed like that for some time I cannot measure, until my attention was drawn by the increasingly close cawing of birds. When I opened my eyes, I found myself face to face with Cléo, the witch, surrounded by seagulls, walking toward me. With dark skin and hair, a slender body, graceful movements, and a flowing dress, that beautiful woman was an urban legend. Many had heard stories about her, few knew her. I had met her at Pedra Bonita a few times. The meetings never depended on my will, but always on her whims.
Without waiting for any invitation, she knelt by my side. As if she knew the causes of my agony, she said: “Reality is the truth we live. Truth is the farthest frontier ever reached by consciousness so far. In its composition, there are important doses of perception and sensitivity, the structural foundations of consciousness. There are also other elements of enormous influence on the formation of truth: general knowledge, feelings, emotions, intellectual resilience, scattered information, scientific concepts, opinions from people of great reputation or whom we admire. This is how the so-called beliefs are formed. The quality of these aspects can broaden or dull perception and sensitivity. When it intoxicates, it robs consciousness of free thought. Clarity of discernment is lost. The personal view is distorted by undue and harmful influences. One abandons the singular truth built from one’s own experiences and conclusions to adopt the world’s beliefs. Whether out of sincere conviction or mere convenience”. She paused to let me connect the philosophical arc and said: “If truth establishes the parameters of reality, by accepting a borrowed truth to live by, the individual will spend their days in a rented reality, under which they will define route and direction, make choices, and set the destination of their journey”. She shrugged and added: “No complaint is valid if disembarking is not where the purchased ticket indicated. The one who sold it to you didn’t know either. Life deceives no one”.
I confessed that I had never thought that way. Using a borrowed truth makes me entrust the destiny of my life to someone who perhaps does not know the truth or is not moved by the best intentions. Cléo smiled and argued: “Something like living in a house you didn’t build. The walls are painted, there are flowers in the window. Everything seems proper and perfect. However, you don’t know how it was built or how the electrical, rainwater, or sewage systems work. You don’t know the depth and strength of the foundations that support it. They say the roof is firm and the river that runs beside it is good for swimming and fishing. They guarantee you that the house is safe and that the resident will be happy there. The tenant trusts the good faith of the broker or the landlord. There may be no incident during the entire stay. However, the river may overflow with the summer rains or there may be termite nests in the hidden woodwork of the structure. Living adrift in a rented truth is called belief. Building your own house is called truth. We adopt beliefs to fill the voids of ignorance and to answer doubts more easily. We prefer to believe in theories and versions that speak to our immediate needs, conveniences, fears, and desires. Gradually replacing beliefs with truth is a journey of self-construction in search of balance and driving force to then move forward”.
I commented that truths were neither definitive nor static. Rather, they were dynamic and ever-changing. Cléo nodded in agreement and added, “Knowing oneself is an indispensable prerequisite for accessing the truth. The journey of self-discovery has no end”. Then she continued, “Just like virtues, truth is part of the art of evolution. The rhythm of spiritual refinement is marked by the deepening of truth through a consciousness whose perception and sensitivity are sharpened with each well-lived experience. In this way, truth is a destination that one reaches gradually, but never fully arrives at”. I considered that some beliefs might be at a more advanced stage than truths still in their primary formation. The witch agreed again, “Without a doubt. When that happens, they help sustain us for a while. Never for all time, since they are fleeting and inconsistent, being notes from someone else’s journey. Soon enough, the moment will come when beliefs will prove insufficient to answer questions and point the way. The reason is simple: each person has their own elaborations, doubts, and needs. We are unique. Be grateful, but know when it’s time to let them go. However, do not belittle them. Remember that they were useful at the time and, often, provided valuable elements for understanding the truth, like the first steps of a great climb”. I asked if it was normal for beliefs to become mixed with truths. Cléo explained, “Beliefs are like lenses. They serve to enlarge or distort your view. But they are not your eyes. Therefore, they do not represent your truth. Lenses synthesize the views of others. Beliefs carry with them the mistakes and successes, the good and bad characteristics of a person, a community, or a culture. The question is whether you are behind or ahead of them in order to understand how they help or hinder”.
I argued that believing in the power of love is necessarily a good belief, regardless of where I might be on the evolutionary path. Cléo smiled as if speaking to a child and explained, “There’s no doubt that love is both the path and the destination. However, like any other belief, it also needs to be experienced in order to become a truth. A good belief becomes truth when it can answer questions, point the way, foster overcoming challenges, and spark creativity toward transformation. Even the best lenses have limitations. Truth cannot do without the infinite aspects that refine one’s vision. Love is capable of all this and much more. However, it requires learning. The belief in love as the solution will only become truth to the extent that we live the exact love as the perfect equation to all problems. It is not enough to believe; it is necessary to use truth as a factor of change to bring forth a new and different reality. Like love, truth is not speech. It is action”.
She then emphasized the need for respect and gentleness in relationships: “As strange as it may seem, we live in different realities within the same material, physical, and urban surroundings. Different views explain multiple personal realities that intertwine and mix in relationships, sometimes converging, sometimes diverging. Unique universes intertwine with smoothness or roughness in a world shared by all”.
She looked at the horizon for a few moments, as if searching for the right words, and said, “The heart of the matter is that reality is shaped according to each person’s beliefs and truths, building bridges or walls, constructions or ruins, regenerations or abandonments, mistakes and successes. Understanding the power of truth in creating reality lays the foundation for an important personal power: we create and destroy our own reality through changes in perspective that occur through intrinsic transformations. As truth evolves, we gain the ability to reshape reality in countless other ways. Imagining the thousand possible creations from an internal and redemptive restructuring is fascinating and enchanting”. She gave a beautiful smile and whispered, “Everyone can, few know how”.
I asked how to know when it’s time to change. The witch explained, “Truths and beliefs form the existential ground on which we walk. When they no longer provide the necessary solutions for us to move forward, it is as if the ground opens up. We collapse. The level of crisis will depend on how long we insist on using models of being and living, thinking and feeling, that no longer allow us to advance. At the last stage, chaos sets in to sweep away the poorly built structure, incapable of sustaining personal growth. Although it may seem bad, it is actually a gift. Only this understanding will allow regeneration, rebirth within oneself, as the only way to redesign a new reality. Otherwise, you will remain imprisoned in the bars of your own misunderstandings”. She furrowed her brow and warned, “Revisiting truths, virtues, and habits, as well as seeking serenity of feelings so that clarity in thinking is not lacking, is a daily necessity. We will only find in the world the beauty that already exists within us. I do not mean beauty as scenery for photographs, but as essence and driving force”.
The witch looked at the sky. The rain had stopped. The clouds were drifting away. She asked me if that conversation had helped me answer the longings that tormented me. I said no. The doubts remained. I told her what was happening. How the internet was changing business relations, creating and destroying businesses. My publishing house was near its end. In a few months, I would be bankrupt. If I closed it now, I would have some money left to invest in another business. Cléo looked at me seriously and asked, “The idea that printed books will soon disappear, is that a truth or a belief?” I argued that experts were unanimous in declaring the collapse of paper literature. They pointed to the decline in reading habits; short videos entertained and demanded less effort. The internet and the digital world had changed the world and life forever. Entire libraries fit inside a two-hundred-gram tablet. I remembered that landlines and typewriters had disappeared. Resisting this change would be like drowning in an unstoppable wave. It would be smarter and wiser to ride it. Even the way people relate to one another had changed with the emergence of social networks. Meetings and relationships were increasingly virtual. That was when Cléo made me think: “Connections shorten distances, and instant messaging has retired the habit of writing letters. There is nothing wrong with this. On the contrary, it has brought people closer. The digital revolution offers countless tools which, like any other, are neutral in polarity. How we use them determines whether they are positive or negative. Just as they make life easier in many ways, bringing joys and wonderful discoveries, they also serve as a means for intrigue, fraud, and malice”. She paused before questioning, “You said technology changed the form of relationships. Despite all the digital conveniences for people to see and talk to each other, could we say that the ancient habits of hugging, kissing, and talking in person have been buried forever?” Immediately, I said no. Physical presence was irreplaceable for the best encounters. Then she asked, “Is the pleasure of reading books on digital devices the same as reading on paper?” “Absolutely not,” I replied. Printed books, especially those well-edited and well-designed, have a sensory magic that is hard to describe. Even if, years from now, I had to go to museums to read paper books, I would never give up this old habit, I assured her. Cléo’s questions continued: “Are there other people like you?” I said many. Even among the youngest, one could notice a preference for printed books. However, I added, short videos were replacing books in the public’s preference. She asked, “Can a short video, even with great ability to summarize ideas, take the place of broad and deep reading? Could one dive into the reflective universe of The Merchant of Venice by Shakespeare, or Ethics by Spinoza, in just five minutes of images and captions?” Without fear of being wrong, I said it was impossible. Expansive reflection is a road without shortcuts. It requires dedication and time. Cléo made an interesting and obvious observation: “There is an audience for every kind of taste, interest, and entertainment. It is not about right or wrong, but about the ability to build the reality in which each will soon live”. Then she asked the final question: “Returning to the opinion of the experts that led you down the tracks of despair and fear, and without discrediting them, are you building your reality on beliefs or truth?”
I fell silent. The seagulls approached. Like in a mystical dance, Cléo twirled, slowly moving away, until she disappeared. I couldn’t say goodbye or thank the witch. The clouds moved on. A few rays of sunlight signalled the arrival of a new time. Or a different reality. I remained seated for a while, I don’t know how long. I was about to make pivotal decisions, not through my own view, but based on the lenses of the world. I had let myself be moved by the beliefs of others because I did not trust my own truth. Both offer room for mistakes and successes; there is no guarantee. Life demands risks and daring. Living by beliefs is to deny individuality; trusting one’s own truth is the first step toward freedom.
Without abandoning technological progress, I converted all the publishing house’s books into digital format. But I did not give up the good old traditional paper book. More needed to be done. I produced editions with layouts, illustrations, and covers like I had never done before. I revived classics and philosophers long out of print. I brought forth books for those who loved to live among books, just as living alongside others is essential for those who are moved by love. The result was surprising. Although the acceptance of videos and digital books is an undeniable and irreversible trend, printed books will continue in the lives of many, many people. Sometimes, the new does not come to destroy the old, but to give it value.
Some time later, I returned to Pedra Bonita. I wanted to thank Cléo. I waited for hours, but she did not appear. I sat facing the sky and the sea where the blues met in the distant infinity. I dove into myself. After some time, the voice of silence asked me, “With beliefs or truths, how are you building your reality?”
Translated by Cazmilian Zórdic.
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Gratidão