I was missing Sedona, the small town nestled in the mountains of Arizona, where Starry Song lived, the shaman who had the gift of preserving his people’s ancestral wisdom through the lyrics of the songs he sang or the stories he told with rare mastery. I carried within me an inner discomfort, like a kind of mild anguish, without any apparent explanation. The stretch of road from Flagstaff, cutting through forests of pines and oaks along cliffs of unmatched beauty, had always brought me a pleasant feeling, as if my heart anticipated that something good was about to happen. Yet what is genuinely good almost never arrives without effort or the need to face an inner challenge. This time was no different.
I was welcomed with Starry Song’s usual serene joy and strong embrace. After leaving my backpack and suitcase in the guest room, we sat on the porch cooled by the gentle breeze of autumn afternoons. We were chatting about trivial matters when we were surprised by Kenai, a young man of about twenty, whose parents had long been friends of the shaman. The boy needed to talk. He was very upset. Kenai worked at one of the region’s luxurious resorts to help support his family. Besides covering basic household expenses, he contributed so his parents could pay for his sister’s university education, she being a few years older than him. Once she graduated, it would be her turn to give back so that Kenai could attend college, should he wish. Though he belonged to a family with scarce financial resources, good feelings, values, and noble principles served as the bond that kept that small nucleus united as if in a single heart. An immeasurable wealth. Despite living in a house where meeting basic material needs was a daily struggle, Kenai lived in a home where love overflowed and dignity was part of the air he breathed. He was a gentle, calm, and cheerful young man.
Kenai told us that Peter, the manager and the owner’s son, had suddenly begun treating him rudely for no apparent reason. They were about the same age. At first, the boss assigned him the most unpleasant tasks, such as dealing with garbage and cleaning the bathrooms in common areas. Where there had once been rotation to avoid overburdening anyone, these duties became exclusively Kenai’s. Although he noticed the unexplained change in the distribution of tasks, he carried them out without complaint. I interrupted to argue that in some companies, similar practices are used to evaluate an employee’s level of commitment. In some cases, only those with greater potential for professional growth are tested. The young man explained that for a time he had even considered that possibility. However, the manager’s behaviour escalated in harshness. The criticisms were excessive and senseless. Some bordered on rudeness. In meetings, he would always make some sarcastic or mocking remark, invariably targeting Kenai, sarcasm is a disguised form of aggressiveness in which humour masks the intent to hurt; mockery shows contempt, a vile desire to humiliate through ridicule. Although he had learned that the final destination of evil lies with the sender and never with the recipient, he felt uncomfortable with the recurring way he was being treated. Kenai emphasized that each person is where they place themselves or allow others to place them. If things are not good, one must leave without delay, unless it is possible to change the nature of the relationship. Relationships without limits inevitably become abusive and harmful. Boundaries are essential tools for respect, self-respect. A fundamental gesture of dignity and therefore indispensable to self-love. Starry Song nodded in approval.
The young man confessed he could not understand Peter’s behaviour. He had already tried to talk to him, without success. He had been met with irritation and disdain. No matter how diligently he performed his tasks, the work was never good enough in the eyes of the hotel heir. He did not understand why he had not yet been fired. On the other hand, in recent days he had been considering the possibility of resigning. A delicate decision, as it might harm his sister’s studies, whom he loved deeply, if it took him time to find another job. He had come seeking Starry Song’s advice.
While listening carefully to Kenai’s afflictions and uncertainties, the shaman filled his unmistakable red-stone pipe with tobacco. When the story ended, he lit it, puffed a few times to ignite the tobacco, looked at the young man with deep respect, and said: “Doubt is a fog; every decision defines a path. No one chooses a good route before clearly seeing the reasons for their own movements, as well as where they intend to go”. He watched the smoke dance before his eyes for a moment and continued: “Calm your heart so you can see what you need to see. Hurry, irritation, and anxiety close the window of lucidity. Consciousness withdraws. Distorted emotions obscure the best solutions. If the traveller is lost at the crossroads, it is because the road has not yet revealed itself to him. Not everything on the journey is just walking. In every journey there is a time to be still, to observe, and to understand. That is when the path reveals itself to the traveller. Then he will be ready to move on”.
The first star appeared in the distance, standing out against the dark cloak of night. Kenai glanced worriedly at his watch. Every Friday, at the head of a country band, he sang in a warehouse that, on weekends, among the enormous unfinished works of a visual artist, transformed into a delightful bar and an improvised stage. A pleasant place for expressions of talent and gatherings. He wanted to continue the conversation, which was far from over. But he had a commitment. Starry Song asked if we could attend the show. The young man said yes with a beautiful, joyful smile. As he passed through the gate, he mounted his motorcycle, nicknamed Frankenstein by the townspeople, as it had been built from discarded parts of different brands, reborn through Kenai’s hands, and rode off.
I remarked that the young man, though not conventionally handsome, possessed incredible magnetism and undeniable charisma. From his posture and ideas, it was not hard to recognize his talent for dealing with difficulties, always in a gentle and serene way. He seemed capable of drawing on great doses of creativity and boldness to find unimaginable solutions. The motorcycle was a perfect example. The ancestral features of his Navajo heritage, along with his unique way of dressing, speaking, and acting, gave him unmatched charm. Above all, he had something precious: a good heart to guide his steps. The shaman nodded. I confessed that I had often witnessed similar scenes of persecution in different situations, never understanding the reason for such behaviour. I asked if Starry Song knew why the wealthy Peter was persecuting humble Kenai. The shaman nodded again without adding a word.
It took us a while to reach the venue. We spent a good time talking about other matters. Shortly before leaving, I mentioned that one of my former partners, from the time we ran an advertising agency, had, after our split, leveraged the company to become one of the largest in Latin America. He had accumulated several international awards and amassed a great fortune. Starry Song looked at me deeply and drew the bow: “Why is that information important to our conversation?” I brushed it off, saying it was mere curiosity. Then the good warrior released the arrow: “I sensed a tone of bitterness and regret in your voice”. Somewhat uncomfortable, I insisted he was mistaken. Nothing more was said. It didn’t need to be. The arrow had already pierced my conscience.
When we arrived at the warehouse, the street was full of parked cars. We left the shaman’s worn pickup in a distant spot. As a wise alchemist of souls used to say, chance does not exist. Nearby, we saw a beautiful convertible Mercedes park. A very handsome young man, tall, well-built, elegantly dressed, stepped out of the car accompanied by two women who looked like they had come straight from a fashion catalogue. Like someone carrying trophies in human form, he walked with a beauty on each side. From another car, two burly men emerged and followed them at a safe distance, ready to intervene if necessary. They were security guards. As if the scene were important for understanding the story correctly, the shaman said that the handsome young man was Peter, the owner’s son, with whom Kenai had recurring problems.
The place was fantastic. Minimalist and elegant at the same time. When we entered, a beautiful young woman was singing a pleasant song that required a rare vocal tone. She performed it with incredible perfection. Heavily applauded, as she stepped off the stage she was embraced by Kenai, with whom she exchanged a passionate kiss. Then it was the young Navajo’s turn to command the stage, accompanied by a band whose members were his childhood friends. He sang half a dozen cheerful songs, making people dance with joy. At the end, he was enthusiastically applauded by the audience. I praised the quality of the songs. Starry Song revealed they were his own compositions.
I noticed that both Peter’s table and Kenai’s table were full of people. However, I had the clear impression that they were gathered there for different reasons. Expressions and behaviour made that evident. While around Kenai there was laughter, friendship, and camaraderie, around Peter there prevailed formality, business, and an unmistakable tension. One table was driven by virtues and mutual admiration; the other by interests and a staged relaxation. I also noticed that Peter, though trying to hide it, watched Kenai with strange attention, as if caught in a kind of fascination.
When I told the shaman what I had observed, he asked me a subtle, concise, and precise question: “Do you understand?” I admitted I did not. Nothing in that context seemed logical enough to explain the relentless persecution of Kenai. Although the two young men frequented the same bar, they inhabited different worlds. Each with his own tastes and flavours, his delights and difficulties. There was nothing wrong with that, I argued. Starry Song looked at me firmly and revealed the reason for Peter’s behaviour with a single word: “Envy”.
I strongly disagreed. Even though Kenai was an extremely virtuous young man, he was poor and lived a very simple life, without any material luxuries. On the other hand, Peter had been born into a millionaire family, with access to the most sophisticated consumer goods imaginable. All he had to do was want something to have it. Kenai was a low-level employee of Peter. It made no sense at all for envy to be the driving force behind that persecution. There had to be another reason. Starry Song shook his head in disapproval and explained: “Being bothered by what someone else has is the most well-known type of envy. However, there is another, deeper kind of envy, and for that very reason, it is almost never perceived: the bitterness of not being who the other person is. And this says nothing about money, fame, or social power. It speaks of virtues and talents; dignity in the way one treats others and peace in the heart. It relates to a great capacity to forgive, to love, to have friends, to be happy, and to move forward. It reveals those who already understand and live genuine freedom. To be much, it is not necessary to have much. It is necessary to understand the priorities of life, and to truly live them. It requires lucidity, emotional balance, and strength of movement. Few are ready. A wealth desired by many, a treasure that money cannot buy”.
How could someone who could have almost everything envy someone who had almost nothing? It was hard to understand. That was not how I had learned about envy. Starry Song stood up and asked me to follow him. We passed by the counter and entered the kitchen. An elderly woman with short white hair welcomed him warmly. It was Doris, a longtime friend and cleaning assistant at the establishment. She immediately told the staff she would take a short break. Removing her apron, she grabbed three beers from the freezer, handed one to each of us, and led us outside the warehouse. At the shaman’s request, after just a few minutes of conversation, she told me that she had worked for a long time in Peter’s parents’ mansion when he was still a child. The father, as a partner in one of the casinos in Las Vegas, was almost never at home. The mother was always absent, dazzled by the frivolities of luxury. The boy grew up disoriented by the purchasing power of money. Expensive things and never-denied whims served to compensate for the lack of emotional warmth in that family. A routine of shallow feelings led him to trample principles and people. Important virtues such as humility, simplicity, gentleness, compassion, selflessness, moderation, among others, having never been taught, seemed to him nothing more than laughable theories preached by failed philosophers and obtuse religious figures. Peter had never built anything. Without any effort, he had always bought or been given everything he wanted.
Then Starry Song concluded: “Without realizing it, this created an inner emptiness without apparent explanation, along with a sad inversion of values guiding his conduct and choices. Even without understanding the exact dimension of his own perception, he recognizes something in Kenai that is more precious than everything he possesses. He feels it but does not understand where it comes from. Peter is a construction with expensive ornaments, beautiful contours, and no foundation. That is why, from an emotional and existential standpoint, he is extremely fragile and unbalanced in the face of life’s adversities. Kenai is simple, but he has solid pillars. This gives him tenacity and consistency to deal with the inherent difficulties of daily life. Pillars are built according to the virtues added to one’s personality. They are the beauties of the soul. This is not for sale. It must be earned. Peter wants this treasure, but he cannot win or buy it. The young millionaire has not learned the meaning of the verb to conquer. So, by instinct and impulse, he decides to destroy what he does not know how to possess. The persecution is unconscious, driven by a feeling he does not understand and therefore cannot control. Envy guides him, just as currents and tides guide ships without a rudder or a compass”.
At that moment, Kenai arrived. He had noticed our absence and, worried, came to check if we were alright. But that was not all. He told us about a disturbance that had just occurred in the bar. Peter’s father had arrived looking for his son. They had a heated conversation. People nearby overheard that they were arguing over a huge gambling debt the young millionaire had accumulated in Las Vegas casinos. The father was being pressured by his partners to settle the debt, which he had previously ignored. He was furious at the contradiction of, as a gambling financier, seeing his son behave like the reckless gamblers he so despised, whom he called losers.
With no need to speak, the shaman exchanged a meaningful glance with Kenai, as if asking whether he had understood. The young man nodded. Peter was trying, through erratic and impulsive movements, to fill the existential void he felt, but was unable to understand it because he did not know the origin of the feelings that drove him. Despite having almost everything money could buy, something was missing within him that disoriented, unbalanced, and weakened him. He felt it but did not understand it. He looked again at Starry Song and asked if the issue was that Peter perceived in him, Kenai, the existential pillars he himself lacked. A perception without understanding makes us act through impulses and instincts, movements driven by fear that take us in the opposite direction of the light. The shaman’s silence confirmed his reasoning. Kenai had understood the feeling that fuelled Peter’s persecutory behaviour.
Kenai showed compassion, stating that Peter was a victim of his lack of self-knowledge. Starry Song agreed: “Without a doubt. This understanding is extremely useful so that you do not harbour resentment toward him. Because of the imprisonment it causes, when we nurture resentment, we remain supporting actors in someone else’s life. Because of the freedom it offers, forgiveness brings us back to the leading role in our own lives”. He paused and added: “However, it is necessary to defend yourself from evil. His behaviour has been escalating in imbalance and aggression. He does not fire you because he feeds on humiliation and contempt, empty sensations of false superiority. He is still far from understanding the harm that afflicts him. At this moment, it is advisable that you distance yourself from Peter and, therefore, from your current job”.
Kenai admitted he had been considering that decision for a few days. The shaman’s words confirmed what his intuition had been whispering to him. He wanted to form a band with his girlfriend and some friends. The success they had in Sedona could resonate throughout the world. However, it was a difficult journey that, even when successful, usually takes time to mature. For now, he needed something immediate to support himself and help his family until music showed whether it would become a career or remain, no less important, part of the essential art of his life. At the same time, he would set up a motorcycle workshop in his garage. He already had good experience with that. Between repairs, he would build other Frankensteins to sell. He confessed that the mere idea of change already filled his heart with joy and enthusiasm. After a period of stillness and reflection at life’s crossroads, the path was revealing itself to Kenai. Not the destination, but the direction to follow. In this way, it became possible to adjust the route and course of his personal story. A movement always necessary. Starry Song curved his lips in a faint smile of approval. The young man thanked us and returned to the warehouse. He wanted to share his decision and invite his girlfriend and friends into the adventure that was beginning.
Resilience is the virtue that, despite the harsh circumstances and pressures that life sometimes imposes, does not allow us to be deformed by them. On the contrary, through difficulties, we reinvent, rebuild, and refine ourselves. Then we reach unimaginable places, within and beyond ourselves. Referring to Kenai, on the way back to the house, I remarked that the young man had understood the lesson life had proposed. Thus, he would be able to go beyond himself. Without taking his eyes off the road, Starry Song returned the question: “And you, did you understand?” I replied that I had learned a lot about the deceptive traps of dense feelings such as envy. It would be easier to recognize it when it arose in me and, in doing so, to master it before it mastered my heart and my choices. The shaman pulled the pickup over to the side of the road, looked at me seriously, and replied: “Did you really understand?” After a moment of confusion, my conscience brought back the comment I had made earlier about my former partner’s success after our business split. I admitted that his petty and selfish behaviour, which had caused the breakup, made it difficult for me to have good feelings toward him. I confessed that his success bothered me. However, it was not envy. The feeling existed because I had been betrayed and harmed at the time.
Starry Song clarified: “At that moment, you made a choice. Right or wrong, take responsibility for your decision and move forward. Never remain tied to regret over a mistaken choice or to the behaviour of others. Experiences are schools or prisons, depending on how we deal with them. Feelings as well”. He furrowed his brow, as if to say he would not elaborate further, and added: “What we lack is not what was left behind, but what we have not yet accomplished. Understanding this truth makes the root of maturity sprout”.
He paused before continuing: “Without this understanding, no one can leave the crossroads where they stand. They will drown in feelings that, because they are considered of low standard, they will deny their presence and influence. Envy is one of the most difficult feelings to admit because it is treated as a mark of personal inferiority. However, all feelings pass through our depths. The best and the worst. Without exception. The problem is that, through denial, envy moves from the heart to the mind through the dark alleys of misunderstanding, like a shadow in the night of consciousness. No one defends themselves against what they believe does not exist. Ignored feelings gain power to distort reasoning and behaviour. Without the humility required to admit their presence and influence, it becomes impossible to transform them into something better. Worse still, the individual remains captive in someone else’s life, to which they have bound themselves through a corrosive connection. This keeps them on the margins of their own life, a typical stagnant and self-destructive behaviour, the cause of much pain, more common than many believe”.
I remarked that time would help me process my feelings. Only then would I be able to reprocess that situation and reach a better understanding. The shaman corrected me: “Time does not change or fix anything. It may distance the pain, but it does not extinguish it. Feelings do not change like the seasons. Not rarely, many people go through an entire lifetime without undoing the harm they cause themselves. They prove incapable of dissolving the bitterness of poorly processed experiences, growing accustomed to suffering as if there were no cure, or waiting for a magical day that will never come”. He paused briefly and continued: “As ancestral peoples taught, where there is will, there is a path. Everything else is excuses and escapes. There is no replacement of one feeling by another without an effective inner movement first. What dissolves a dense feeling is the firm and conscious decision to no longer carry it within. Will is the primordial force that pulls one out of the mire of stagnant and painful days. It is what drives the search for a better understanding of unpleasant events, to look at them from a perspective previously unimagined, yet revealing and redeeming. Then, from a better understanding, and only then, the feeling transforms into another, dissolving bitterness and offering clarity. The heart finds a new direction to move forward with balance, firmness, and serene joy. Otherwise, even if one recites refined theories to justify distorted reasoning and erratic behaviour, one will remain like a lost traveller at the crossroads of misunderstood feelings”. Then he ended with the uncomfortable question: “Did you understand?”
I nodded. However, seeing a door does not mean one is ready to walk through it. As anticipated at the beginning of this text, what is genuinely good almost never comes without effort or the need to face an inner challenge. No one returns from Sedona the same as when they arrived. This time was no different.
Translated by: Cazmilian Zórdic
