I was very upset. Disappointment perhaps better depicted my state of mind at that moment. Friendships are one of the most powerful manifestations of the sacred that exist, given their welcoming and transformative aspect. Friends help us get back up after falls, serve as a beacon to guide us out of darkness, and share in the smiles and tears inherent to existence. In some situations, they were like lifeboats from the coastguard rescuing me from the shipwrecks of the days. I have few, but good friends. I would say the best anyone could wish for. However, Leonardo was not one of them, as I had always imagined. A few years ago, he had gone through extreme difficulties. His company was on the brink of bankruptcy. With no credit at the banks, I lent him a considerable sum so he could restructure the business. I did this without any formal guarantee or signed document. Just on his word and with no deadline for repayment. When he could, he would pay. Almost two years later, Leonardo honoured the commitment. We celebrated his good professional moment at a memorable dinner. A friendship for life. At least that’s what I thought until the situation turned around. About a decade later, in a similar moment, I needed money. With my credit limits maxed out and no chance at the banks, I went to Leonardo. He welcomed me warmly, listened attentively, and, in the end, said he would lend me the needed amount. Provided my apartment was put up as collateral. More seriously, with a fixed deadline for repayment. If I couldn’t pay off the debt in six months, he would take the property, which was worth more than the loan. To my astonishment, I was not facing a friend, but a shrewd negotiator.
His argument was that he didn’t believe I could revive the publishing house. Indeed, the arrival of digital books, online sales, and the closure of many bookstores had turned the market upside down. From large publishers to artisanal ones, everyone was seeking unexpected routes to understand where we would go and how. Giving up was not an option for me. I have always considered crises akin to storms; if we understand the movement of the tides and the changes of the winds, we will reach unknown paradises; otherwise, it is also a fact, we will know shipwreck. I had chosen the first option. However, I needed the coastguard to save me from an imminent disaster. I was adrift. Despite sending SOS signals, no lifeboat came to help. I had the feeling of being threatened by a privateer. The books are finished, the publishers too, Leonardo declared as if telling me to give up the business. No one will be interested in spending days involved in reading if they can learn the same subject after watching a two-hour video, he predicted the next trend in human behaviour. If you close the company now, your losses will be smaller, he prophesied in a tone typical of those who believe they know tomorrow, and the designs and destinies of all people.
As I often do when I’m upset, I climbed Pedra Bonita, a huge granite plateau atop a mountain by the Atlantic Ocean in Rio de Janeiro. The good telluric vibrations, combined with the dancing sound of the winds, always seemed to facilitate my connection with the Highlands, offering intense intuitions, perceptions, and rare sensitivity. It was my Place of Power, as Starry Song taught me. After a few minutes enjoying the beautiful landscape, I leaned against a rock facing the sea and closed my eyes. I needed clarity in my thoughts; otherwise, I wouldn’t find any way out. After a time I can’t specify, ideas weren’t advancing. “Resentment is blocking all the passages,” I heard someone say beside me. It was Cléo, the witch. Dark-skinned with a slender body, black hair and eyes of the same colour, in her multicoloured flowing dresses, she carried with her the mystery of appearing and disappearing without warning at the top of Pedra Bonita. She sat down beside me without asking for permission. She had the gift of transforming reality through ideas. Without a doubt, this is magic.
I asked her what she was talking about. The woman explained: “Dense emotions, like resentment, obstruct the development of thought. Ideas get stuck; the doors to evolution close. Unlike subtle feelings that stimulate the wings of thoughts to take us beyond where we currently are.” She paused before continuing: “It doesn’t matter what city we reside in; we live within our consciousness, in which ideas and feelings have a symbiotic relationship. They either sink or fly together.”
Cléo continued: “Just as a clear mind dissolves the harshness of emotions, murky ideas pollute the heart. Wisdom needs love to find the hidden passages through the poisoned fences of suffering. As long as you are dominated by resentment, you won’t find a way out of any problem. You will encounter ideas of conflict and an unconfessable desire for revenge. Even if you do nothing against anyone, this poison will sicken you a little more each day. There’s no point in complaining; you are the one who distilled it.” I said she was mistaken; it wasn’t resentment. Ingratitude was the correct feeling. Leonardo had been ungrateful to those who helped him in a difficult moment. There had been a lack of reciprocity. The witch shrugged and clarified: “It’s the same hatred. Resentment, disappointment, frustration, or any other word we seek to deny the hatred we don’t like to feel, much less admit, won’t help us because it distracts us from the truth.”
I wanted to know what truth she was referring to. Cléo explained: “How much you know the aspects and personal values with which you relate to yourself and the world. This defines your personality, which in turn will reflect your way of being and living.” I argued that each person is born with their personality. Some are extroverted, fun, and sentimental; others are shy, serious, and rational, I cited some of the countless possibilities. They come to the planet this way; there’s no way to change it. The witch shook her head and said: “A common misconception. Personality doesn’t narrow down in that reasoning, nor is it static. For there to be evolution, everything needs to transform. Personality is no different.” She looked at the sea for a few moments, as if seeking inspiration, and explained: “A proud person will have more difficulty dealing with someone else’s refusal than a humble individual; while the former will feel offended or hurt, the latter will understand the reasons or difficulties of the interlocutor. The thoughts and emotions that will involve both will be different and also decisive, both for well-being and for the solutions each will find. Modifying what needs to improve within oneself, whatever it may be, is a necessary aspect for anyone who wishes to move forward.”
She frowned and said: “The subject is broader and deeper than most people realise. Thus, they don’t see how they themselves influence the calm or storms of their days and define their own destiny. Less by the power of will, more by the capacity to think and feel. Perception and sensitivity are primordial to guide action; they form the helm that directs the vessel. Will is the engine that propels it.”
Because she noticed the attention I was giving to her words, she became excited and continued: “The fearful will see difficulty as an obstacle, while the courageous will find in it a reason to overcome. The same problem is viewed in various ways depending on each person’s perspective. The way we think, the way we handle emotions, and our personality either shorten or expand our capacity to see. This defines personal truth. Perception and sensitivity become structural factors of consciousness.” I remembered the famous quote from the Sermon on the Mount: when your eyes are good, the whole universe is light. Cléo smiled in approval and added, “Good eyes mean a clear mind, a serene heart, and a personality willing to transform at any moment. Every day is perfect for becoming a different and better person. Consequently, reality changes in step and rhythm with our eyes.”
I couldn’t disagree with the witch. However, none of those words served to dissolve Leonardo’s ingratitude, to whom I had helped in a similar moment of difficulty that I was experiencing. Cléo didn’t agree with me. I was taken aback by her explanation: “The problem is yours, whether financial or emotional. It isn’t fair to transfer it. Leonardo has no obligation to act the same way you did. Otherwise, accepting your help would make him a hostage to the needs you might have someday. He would be trapped by the eventualities of those who helped him. No one should live like that.” She looked at the blue sky as if praying for good words and said, “Help everyone, but do it for yourself. When I help someone, I should never do it for the other, but for my own good. For the love I have in my heart, for the light that guides my soul. Just that. If I do it for the other, I will create a complicated debt of repayment, just like absurd emotional obligations. Both love and light are a commitment; they are born within us to live in the world; they are sources of joy. Obligations are impositions that come from the world to live within us; that’s why they cause discomfort and never find a place.” She then concluded, “If you have to help someone, do it for yourself; never for anyone else. Otherwise, you will find yourself in the ridiculous position of being a creditor to the world.”
I needed to internalise those words. As if she could read my mind, the witch helped me: “Ingratitude is the behaviour of one who does not recognise the grace received. In its original meaning, the word grace refers to a sacred movement that helps us in times of distress. Ingratitude reveals that someone was not graced with love and light in a particular situation. Therefore, ingratitude belongs to them; it has nothing to do with you. Yes, foggy eyes might lead you to feel abandoned by Leonardo, without the reciprocity you once practised. However, if you have clarity in your gaze, you will understand the invitation that life is making for you to go beyond where you have always been. The immature people believe that only money solves financial problems. The mature rely on their own strength and balance. This gives them the power of creativity—a tool capable of creating doors where everyone sees an insurmountable wall.”
I interrupted to say that stimulating my creativity hadn’t been Leonardo’s intention in refusing help. Cléo shrugged and said, “It doesn’t matter.” In light of my astonishment, she deepened her reasoning: “When we live according to other people’s choices, they limit our joys and spread our sorrows. This is called emotional dependence. A nefarious, parasitic way of being. Something inconceivable to happiness and peace. There is nothing wrong with asking for help; at various times and for different reasons, everyone needs it. Without exception. However, it is essential to understand that someone else’s refusal cannot have the power to prevent you from moving forward. Progress depends only on your strength and balance. Nothing more. And this is between you and yourself. No one else.”
The witch suggested, “Have compassion for Leonardo. Your loving understanding of his difficulty in comprehension and acceptance will cause the hatred, which you prefer to call ingratitude, to subside until it completely dissipates. Although many do not understand, this says a lot about freedom, much more than merely wandering freely through the streets or carrying a backpack to travel the world. The harshest prisons are those imposed on the mind and heart when they are shackled by hatred.”
She then stood up and twirled in a dizzying dance at the edge of the cliff. Gradually, she moved away until she disappeared among the seagulls that, in flight, blurred my vision and seemed to merge with the witch’s flowing dress. Alone, I absorbed her words to deconstruct some concepts and build many others within myself. Ingratitude had been a characteristic of Leonardo’s attitude. Allowing it to become an emotion possessing me was a permission I could not grant. Perhaps he did not view my business the same way I did; perhaps he was not willing to risk what he believed was doomed to failure; perhaps he doubted I would pay him back if the publishing house closed. There were many variables. However, in truth, it didn’t matter. The reasons were his, not mine. What mattered was accepting that he had the right to any of them. I needed to maintain my axis of light. If I did so, nothing in him could prevent me from moving forward.
It was up to me to have compassion for Leonardo’s choice, which initially contradicted my interests. However, I could never lack the willingness to continue building myself; this, indeed, would always be my best business. Regardless of what happened with the publishing house, I am much more than any company. We all are. What ennobles is dignity, never business success. By enveloping Leonardo in sincere compassion, I accepted that he had no obligation to me. No one does. Unlike obligations, in friendships commitments matter, as they speak to the will that arises from the heart to blossom in consciousness. That is why they are gentle and joyful. They have the language of love.
As I metabolised this reasoning, I was filled with a pleasant sense of lightness. It was my heart that smiled and danced, simply because my mind overflowed with clarity. The softness of feelings guided my thoughts to unknown places. Beautiful landscapes. It allowed me to think without rush, like those who carry peace within themselves. Then, in a rhythmic sequence, I was visited by fantastic ideas. Creativity is the secret passage to beyond the monotony of solutions deemed unique. Absolutely everything is under the power of creation. We are creators of our own creations. Therefore, my problems are also created by me, and they remain within me as long as I refuse to accept that I can create all the solutions. Not always the obvious ones, but also those previously unthought-of.
To give up the publishing house? That was not the issue. Changing course does not mean abandoning the journey but creating alternatives to avoid losing direction. The direction? Well, it will always be my essence. Transforming to reach the destination of oneself requires detachment and creativity. It was time to accept some losses; otherwise, there would never be other gains.
Pretending a problem doesn’t exist will never lead to its solution. However, for some time, I had been sensing the presence of a new road, the entrance of which was drawing near. I was resisting the change in direction. There are many reasons that lead us to behave this way. Fear, attachment, and stubbornness are the most common. For years, the publishing house had focused on bringing works by established international authors, at the cost of high royalties paid in advance in foreign currency, with unfavourable and fluctuating exchange rates. This was an unsustainable situation for a medium-sized publishing house without the financial backing of large conglomerates. What if, instead of insisting on this model, I dared to create another? To reduce the size of the company, and if necessary, let it become artisanal, while focusing on young Brazilian authors—not in age, but in the early stages of their careers—who were willing to venture alongside me? I would propose a new type of contract in which they would become partners in the publishing house for their own works; sales would be conducted solely through the publishing house’s website, allowing for an unprecedented percentage of payment regarding the authors’ rights.
Another detail would be the finishing and layout of the books; they would be as artistic as their content. Images crafted by unknown graphic artists, seeking to showcase their talents, would be commissioned to illustrate the works at a price accessible to the publishing house’s reality. A good business is characterised by everyone winning. Figures and letters would unite to tell stories, expand ideas, and inspire discoveries, which would not only beautify the books but also help open the doors of the powerful unconscious. Art has this power too. Furthermore, I would reduce the number of titles to focus on works that explored Philosophy and Metaphysics. Instead of following the market trend of saving on paper and printing to lower the final cost, aiming for quantity, I would do everything differently and go against the flow. I would create refined books for those who love them and see them as works of art. A boutique publishing house; a literary atelier. They would be more expensive, but they would serve many generations. Good knowledge has existed on this planet for millennia. No technology will ever replace the journey provided by reading. Just like diamonds, books are eternal. I would create them to last for centuries. There would be few, but they would be wonderful.
Yes, the risks were enormous, but losing is better than not trying at all. If I had previously wanted to grow larger, in that moment I understood that the way out was to resize the concept of the company. It would become small to gain lightness and, thus, cross the precipices of difficulties. Elephants are too heavy to fly.
When I climbed Pedra Bonita, I was an editor. When I came down, I was someone else. Something was ready to surface and turn me inside out. Once again. I knew this was just the beginning of creation. Such is the journey of discovery. Every day serves for these encounters. I felt like a boy on a boarding platform heading into the unknown of myself. An irresistible adventure. Ecstatic, I thanked Cléo for teaching me about magic, transmutation, and evolution; for helping me understand the burden and error of carrying ingratitude in my baggage, and for reminding me of the keys, always available, to creativity. It was impossible not to also thank Leonardo for, even unknowingly, helping me find an unusual path.
Translated by Cazmilian Zórdic.