Rio de Janeiro is a beautiful city squeezed between the sea and the mountains. The complications that its geographical location causes for road engineering, requiring the construction of numerous tunnels and overpasses to make traffic possible, are compensated by the natural beauties that this very situation provides. Life is no different. Problems with difficult solutions often compensate us with the light they offer, provided, of course, that we know how to deal with the existing traps so as not to let ourselves be trapped in the shadows of misunderstandings. I needed to think. When a particular idea reigns to the point of preventing the presence of a thousand other thoughts, it means that something needs to be understood so that it can be freed from that emotion. Yes, there is a symbiotic relationship between the heart and the mind. Feelings have the power to block or drive ideas; in turn, thoughts have the ability to build or dismantle emotions. The weight or lightness of the days originates in this intrinsic relationship that we must learn to master. Otherwise, we will remain slaves to our imbalances.
Starry Song used to say that everyone has their own place of power, a place where the connection, whether with our essence or with more subtle existential spheres, allows a greater exchange of ideas and feelings, sharpening our perception and sensitivity. When it happens, we have the clear sensation that cosmic engineering has opened a tunnel allowing passage through the mountains that prevented us from moving forward. At home, I like to sit in an old armchair, as if it were a boarding platform. At other times, I feel the need to be close to nature, letting myself be enveloped by the wonderful telluric vibrations. Then, I climb Pedra Bonita, a huge granite plateau facing the sea. With only the howl of the Atlantic winds as sound, and a view of several neighbourhoods, it is possible to feel the pulse of this complex metropolis, leaving no doubt that cities, like other beings, also have, in addition to a unique identity, cycles with their own phases and singular characteristics. In short, they are born, grow, live, get sick; many heal, become sovereign, others deteriorate. All age and then die. Some are reborn. From Tenochtitlán to Babylon, from Constantinople to Rome, there are many examples handed down through history.
On that day, the pleasant April weather allowed for a clear blue sky, without fog, and a mild temperature. Perfect for reclining on a stone, marvelling at the landscape, calming my emotions, and letting my thoughts soar. There was something I needed to understand in order to remove the weight that made my back bend. After twelve years, my marriage was about to reach its saturation point. Without delay, something needed to change. At any moment, I could explode or implode. The word “saturation” has several meanings in various branches of science. Existentially, when a relationship pushes someone to the limit they can bear, it reaches the point of saturation. Along with the solution, beauty and enchantment are lost; the companionship that was once a source of joy becomes contaminated and, as with cities, eventually destroys itself.
I needed to understand the misunderstandings in the causes that led to the saturation in order to dismantle its unhealthy effects. I closed my eyes and let my thoughts fly freely for an indeterminate amount of time.
“Discomfort is just the symptom, as if the soul, suffocated by breathing stale air, asked for the window of life to be opened. When a relationship becomes painful, or brings suffering for too long, it means it has become ill. As with any disease, the cure must be found. Otherwise, the illness will destroy it. Saturation cases are those where the individual cannot bear the misunderstanding of their own feelings. The pain is no longer sustained by another person’s actions but by the lack of a reaction capable of preventing the illness from taking its course. We believe there is nothing we can do or, out of fear, we imagine that the cure would be more uncomfortable than the disease. This is not true.” That’s how I felt. She continued: “The purpose of the wound is to create space for the light to enter, an essential element for the healing of the soul. It is there that suffering is rooted. When we do not let the light in, the pain that came to show us the love we didn’t know becomes disconnected from its original meaning and turns into something contrary to evolution.” It was Cléo, the beautiful and slender brunette witch, with her colourful, fluttering dresses. She was famous for working magic with her cauldron of ideas.
She sat down beside me without asking for permission. And warned: “It’s no use using remedies to alleviate the symptoms. In these cases, the balance offered by chemistry is just a palliative. Despite the brief sense of relief, it will not prevent the roots of suffering from continuing to spread within you. In a solution of will, courage, and self-love, you will need to go to the root to eradicate what hurts. Definitively.” Sweetly, but firmly, she said: “Every suffering has a cure. Go to the beginning, where it all started. Understand the unnecessary permissions you granted, in larger amounts or for longer than you should have. Dismantle them one by one by assuming the posture of someone who will now respect themselves. Rescue yourself. Be reborn in yourself. Otherwise, like a city without command or hierarchy, the shadows and the pains will become the law. You will deteriorate until only the abandoned ruins remain.”
I explained that it wasn’t that easy. I was tired of fighting, of trying to prove my point, of using the most obvious arguments, but it was no use. I said that I gave in to avoid conflict. I believed there was no way out. I just wanted to make the pain bearable so I wouldn’t succumb. Cléo frowned, as if she disagreed, and clarified: “No doubt, giving in means knowing how to listen, a fundamental step in understanding the other, and the next step is allowing both to move from where they are to meet each other where they have never been. Everyone moves forward.”
She paused briefly to emphasise the difference: “However, when only one makes the move, it stimulates the stagnation of the other in the comfort of not wanting to leave their place. As a result, like a habit or repetition, neither advances. In truth, they combine, in the same cell, in complicity, the harmful intransigence of one with the pernicious tolerance of the other.”
And she continued: “For a healthy relationship, it is necessary to give in a little, from both sides. Moments of discomfort have their reasons for existing, due to the movement they impose, but gentleness must prevail and dominate. We learn from each other; we grow together, this is the luminous face of encounters. We must say yes to many things, but we cannot say yes to everything. There must be a limit. Always. This is the boundary of respect. Inside each person is a sacred space that must not be violated. When a temple is profaned, the light moves away.”
She paused again before adding: “We are the cause of our own emotional pain. All suffering signals an unhealed wound. An unfinished lesson. Relationships are built on mutual permissions. However, any concession requires a limit. Otherwise, there will be an invasion beyond the temple of individuality, a sacred ground that cannot be tread by another person. Where there are no limits, respect disappears, and abuse becomes the rule. The Identity is lost.”
She issued a warning: “However, never try to wear the victim’s clothes. It will be a waste of time. Remember, all permissions, even the undue ones, whether by contrived consent or cowardly silence, were authorised by you. Never forget, anyone only has power over us that we grant them. If the relationship is uncomfortable, it means the permissions need a more thorough analysis, and if necessary, cancelled.”
She furrowed her brows and remarked: “More seriously, over time, the permissions accumulate, making the other person believe it is an acquired right. It never was and never will be. But we allowed them to think so. As the days go by, the suffering will intensify until it reaches a saturation point. Life becomes unbearable. Unable to deal with the situation, the individual numbs the misunderstandings and anaesthetises the pain through medication, alcohol, or other drugs. It is a futile attempt to escape. You can run away from many things, but never from yourself. You will always carry yourself in your baggage.” She shrugged as though stating the obvious: “You are your own baggage.”
I insisted that I was tired of arguments, discussions, and conflicts. There could be no more fighting in my days. Perhaps the remedy was more bitter than the disease. The witch commented: “Then, learn to live with your growing pain. Listen to loud music, go to noisy parties, drink a lot, take anxiolytics to sleep, stimulants to wake up, buy pills for peace and happiness. Do the impossible: try to forget who you truly are. Allow yourself to be destroyed, a little each day. Therefore, do not complain, the choice was yours.”
Cléo continued to surprise me: “We fear abandonment, we fear not belonging to anyone, we fear living alone. In truth, fear takes away what is best in us and subjects us to the worst of existence. The greatest abandonment is when we give up being who we are; whoever loses themselves will have nothing left to gain. Living alone is not as grave a problem as living empty. Fear leads us to make the worst choices, letting others choose for us; it then robs us of freedom and dignity. The absence of apparent conflicts does not mean peace.” I confessed there was some truth in her words, but I didn’t know how to leave that labyrinth. The witch explained: “The door to all existential labyrinths opens within us, never outside. Find courage within yourself, for this virtue will show you that you are greater than the greatest of problems. You are. We all are.”
I said that the solution might bring much bitterness. There were many issues and particularities at stake. Cléo clarified: “The remedy is only bitter when we refuse to take it in the correct dose. One must have good will and act consciously. No argument is necessary.”
I laughed. It could only be an unfunny joke. It’s impossible to live without conflict, I stated. The witch shook her head and pondered: “As long as there is clarity in the mind and serenity in the heart, even if the other person shows discontent and revolt, their misunderstanding will only affect you if you allow it. By entering this absurd game, you will do as you have always done, reacting in the same tone, giving room for more noise and confusion. Or you will yield again. Then, you will lose another part of yourself until you no longer recognise yourself.”
She argued: “Only fools argue with others, as they want the acceptance of their truths and reasons. Mature people strive to understand who they are; they make the internal adjustments always necessary. They express the way they see each situation. When there is understanding on the other side, they move forward together. Otherwise, they never insist, nor do they stop. They move on with themselves.” She moved her hands in a swirl and suggested: “Each person decides the music they will dance to. Choose yours. By respecting yourself, you will not need to be disrespectful to anyone. Or respect will not be complete.”
She gazed at the sea for a few moments, as if seeking inspiration to use the right words, and continued: “Express your reasons calmly and slowly. Be clear and concise; speaking too much dilutes the argument, speaking too little causes misunderstandings. From there, live the changes that will heal your soul.”
I interrupted to say it wasn’t that simple. Cléo was clear: “Not at all. The reason is simple. We want the other person to agree with us immediately, to confess their excesses, forgive our shortcomings, admit the truth of our arguments, and be enchanted by the changes we suggest. It will hardly happen. While we fight for them to accept our reasons, nothing will change. It’s the wrong remedy.” She shrugged again and said: “Insisting on changing others is the greatest cause of all conflicts. By irony or tragedy, it is also the reason for our pain. We are more arrogant than we realise, more foolish than we would like. When we cannot adjust the other person to our liking, the world moulds us to its taste. Either master, or slave; extremes hurt each other. This is the origin of the bitter taste we carry on our lips and the negligible price at which our lightness was sold in the market of trifles. It all begins with a stupid, useless, and unnecessary arm-wrestling. Everyone loses.”
I was irritated and wanted to know what to do. The witch remained unruffled: “I will repeat until you learn. After expressing your ideas calmly and precisely, live your truth intensely. And, most importantly, move forward.” I asked what to do if the other person didn’t want to join me. Cléo arched her lips in a slight smile and whispered: “Move forward anyway. This speaks of your dignity, as you will start to treat yourself with the respect you deserve; of your peace, by losing the fear of being who you are; and of your freedom, by living your truth in all its breadth and depth. Do you understand that the remedy will never be bitter when administered with love and wisdom?”
I reflected that I didn’t like ruptures. Cléo agreed: “Although they are not always desirable, sometimes they are inevitable. Understand that in such cases, there will be no losses. We lose nothing when we rescue ourselves back into the light.”
The witch suggested an exercise. She asked me to close my eyes. Then, to remember all the movements made, the undue concessions done out of fear or apprehension, and how, little by little, I had been nullifying myself, losing my identity and individuality in search of something that, in reality, took away more than it added. That I accept that such situations don’t arise suddenly; suffering installs itself progressively over time, directly proportional to the undue concessions made, until it completely suffocates the soul. It is crucial to make an accurate reading of when it began. There lies the origin of the pain we feel; just as the lesson we need is hidden there. It is the start of the healing process. Next, I was to project my movements, postures, and choices from then on. However, it was essential that I dismantled any bitterness or resentment, otherwise, the wound would not heal. No one moves forward without forgiving. I was to be sincere in admitting the huge amounts of responsibility that lay with me; each person chooses the bitterness and delights they experience. I had lost myself; only I could find myself again. Such are the remedies for the soul. I was to prepare myself and, when I felt ready, just live the healing.
I don’t know how long I spent on this journey. I revisited dark moments, forgotten alleyways, untidy beds, abandoned dreams. It was difficult, but I knew that in each of those places, a part of who I was had remained; there was a piece that had been traded in an attempt to feel, even if just for a moment, a life that wasn’t mine. Saturation is the discomfort caused by a style of relationship that, in some cases, needs deconstruction; in others, demolition. All suffering signifies the genuine face that needs different projects for reconstruction. All pain is the cry of a soul that longs for regeneration. It was not a matter of seeking what had been left behind, but a moment to move on in the transformation that was mine from then on. Butterflies do not return to the cocoon in search of the vanished caterpillar. It is hard not to cry when meeting the truth; impossible not to smile when reconquering it.
While stirring her cauldron of ideas, the witch had offered the sacred elixir of healing that lies hidden within each person. This power is mine and yours; it is everyone’s. When I opened my eyes, Cléo was spinning, mixed with the seagulls on the far end of the plateau. The tears blurred my vision, or perhaps it was the emotion; for a moment, her fluttering dress made me believe it was open wings, capable of lifting her in flight over the mysteries and the city.
Translated by Cazmilian Zórdic.
