The day was dawning. Through the windows of the canteen we could see the sky in that undefined colour, between pink and blue, typical of the first moments of morning in the mountains. The monastery was waking up. Seated at one of the tables, I was talking with the Elder, as we affectionately called the oldest monk in the Order. The steaming mugs of coffee cradled a meandering conversation, typical of two friends chatting about various topics without any seriousness, when Renan approached, a monk who, despite his short time as a member of the brotherhood, was dearly loved for his immense charisma. Aged between forty and fifty, with a handsome face, a beautiful smile, and gentle words, he moved easily among the various circles of the monastery. What caught our attention was the fact that he was not registered for that study period. He had just arrived. His features showed pronounced dark circles, revealing weariness and sleepless nights. Without hesitation, the Elder invited him to sit with us. Renan accepted immediately. Without needing to be asked anything, he began to speak of his anguish. After five years of a perfect marriage, to his surprise, Valentina, his wife, had asked for a divorce. She said she didn’t love him anymore. Renan admitted he was lost. The Elder tried to help: “Relationships are built and dissolved every day. Some grow during crises; others wither from disinterest or the inability to regenerate. Can you identify the breaking point in your marriage?” Renan said that was the problem. There was nothing wrong that he could identify as the cause of the separation. There had never been significant arguments, cheating, or disrespect. He was a kind and attentive husband, always mindful of his wife’s needs. They travelled and had fun regularly. They were a happy couple. He believed Valentina must be under some negative influence, perhaps even from obsessive or harmful energies. He couldn’t find any other explanation.
The couple had met in the Order, during a difficult course she had taught on the Kybalion, where philosophy and metaphysics merge with extreme complexity. Valentina had been a nun longer than Renan had been a monk. The delicate part of the situation was that, at that moment, she was at the monastery for another study cycle. Until then, we hadn’t known anything, and no aspect of her behaviour had indicated any imbalance. I mentioned that, two days earlier, I had attended a lecture given by the nun. I had found her gentle, lively, and cheerful as usual. Renan pointed out my observation as something strange. He insisted it was not normal for someone to end a marriage after years, without anything to justify the breakup, and still be fine. Yes, something was wrong with her, he stated. The Elder explained that he was willing to help, as long as Valentina was willing to participate. He emphasized that she was not obligated, and therefore, her will would be fully respected; no insistence would be allowed. Renan thanked him. They still loved each other deeply, he confessed. He was warned not to seek her out or bother her. He would wait at a hotel in the nearest town at the foot of the mountain. Depending on her response, he would be called back; otherwise, he would head home from there. He agreed, thanked him, and left.
Later, he asked me to explain to Valentina what had happened that morning. If she felt comfortable talking, she should go to the Elder’s office the next day. And so I did. I sought her out, spoke of the events and the open possibility. I stressed that she should not interpret the gesture as an intrusion, but as an attempt to help Renan and perhaps also herself. After listening, Valentina smiled. Contrary to what I had imagined, she did not seem surprised by her husband’s attitude nor embarrassed to speak about the divorce. Calm and resolute, she suggested that Renan also be present for this first conversation as a way to optimize the process. And so it was done.
The next morning, after breakfast, the four of us gathered in the Elder’s office. As previously agreed, Renan shared his confusion about the separation. He couldn’t find a single reason to explain it. He was a good and attentive husband, loyal and loving. They were happy together. The small day-to-day annoyances were so minor they didn’t deserve comment. He couldn’t understand why his wife no longer wanted to share her life with him. “Lack of respect,” she replied. “Without respect, love collapses,” she added.
Renan said it made no sense. He had never lied, committed betrayal, or acted violently in any way. Not even a shout or curse had ever been uttered in all their years together. He had never forbidden her from doing anything or going anywhere. He asked that she not lie. Valentina explained: “Physical violence, threats, insults, betrayals, and lies are the most visible forms of disrespect, easily recognized by everyone. They are very serious. But they are not the only ones, nor do they exhaust the list of possibilities. Every gesture from anyone, including myself, that tries to stop me from becoming who I can be, that stands as a barrier to my pursuit of my authentic identity, is an act of disrespect. In such cases, the possibilities are countless and almost never perceived or admitted.”
She continued: “No one knows the truth before knowing themselves. Anyone who opposes the path of self-discovery, a necessary condition for forming one’s true identity, is a usurper. Often, each person becomes the thief of their own life. Balance and strength will be lacking; insecurity and anxiety will abound.” Renan said he didn’t understand how he had prevented her from doing what she thought best or right. He had never restricted her from any action. She clarified: “There are many forms and levels of restriction. For example, because of political differences, you stopped visiting my parents’ house. You are free to make your own choices and have your own preferences. Even though I would have liked your company during those visits, I respected you.” The husband interrupted to emphasize that he had never forbidden her from visiting them. Valentina corrected him: “You never told me not to go, because you knew that would violate the last frontier of respect. But when I came back from their house, I would find you sullen, unwilling to talk, or you had overindulged in drinking, ending any chance of us spending quality time together that Saturday or Sunday. If I wanted to have a pleasant weekend with you, I would have to forgo seeing my parents.” He interrupted again, asking if she was accusing him of being an alcoholic. She shook her head and said: “That’s not what I said. I said that, without openly saying so, you tried to stop me from doing the right thing by forcing an unnecessary choice. I love my parents; being with them is very important to me, and there is no sensible reason for me to stop visiting them. Just as I didn’t get upset with you for not wanting to join me, when I returned I should have been received with the same understanding and goodwill. Even without using words, your displays of displeasure were clear tools of pressure and interference with my choices. The attempt to restrict a choice is a form of disrespect to the love I feel for them and for myself. Without love, nothing else is worthwhile.”
There was more. Valentina continued: “When I decided to go back to my PhD at the university, you didn’t forbid it either, but you tried to discourage me in every way you could. At the slightest opportunity, you would bring up the supposed waste of time in returning to academic studies. At first, you whispered small doses of sarcasm; later, you showed complete disinterest in my personal projects to advance my professional career. Your interest was limited to the wife, never the engineer. You forgot that Valentina is both and much more. I am also the poet who, when we first met, we used to talk about every poem I wrote and, in recent years, not a single word of interest was ever heard again. I am also the daughter, the friend of my friends, the nun, and the citizen. I am one and I am all. These women coexist within me and it wouldn’t be good for me to give up any of them. Denying me the right to live them is an act of disrespect.”
Renan argued that her analysis was an exaggeration; she wasn’t taking into account all the good things in their marriage. She disagreed: “The foundation of a union is not trips abroad, dinners in trendy restaurants, or just pleasant gatherings with dear friends. It is much more. Love is necessary in the construction of a building called a relationship, which cannot stand when there is disrespect in the formation of the identity of who we wish to become.”
He asked why she insisted on connecting love with what she called identity. He admitted he didn’t understand. Valentina explained: “Finding your true identity is part of the outcome of the search for self-knowledge and the conquest of oneself. Don’t be fooled, very few people are in a position to say who they are. It means reaching the first level of truth. The truth that frees us from deception, fear, and suffering. While far from the truth, we lose control over our choices for the simple reason that we don’t fully understand them, with all the possibilities they offer. We are less when we could be more. While lost in the search for truth, we are completely unaware of the characteristics, aspects, and elements that compose our identity. Hoping to become someone we can recognize and be satisfied with, we incorporate one or more of the countless myths, ancient or modern, in a vain attempt to build ourselves. We try to fit into behavioural patterns, sometimes accepted, sometimes admired. Everyone has their dreams, as well as their struggles. Contemporary society is beginning to realize that the old standards no longer fit current needs. Perceiving the signs, but without fully decoding them, movies and series present unreal heroes, sometimes romantic, sometimes warriors, who despite feeling real anguish, use fictional powers to overcome everything and everyone who opposes them. We look in the mirror and search for them in ourselves. We dress and speak like these urban demigods, idolized despite their laughable powers. They serve as substitutes for ancient archetypes, merely modernized in appearance, and as such, create patterns of desire and behaviour in the collective unconscious. Even without noticing, even if only partially, we will aspire to these powers and repeat several of these sterile behaviours until we find our true identity. It’s up to each person to find their own.”
“Among men and women, there’s always the ‘good guy’ who doesn’t dare step out of line and the rebel who prides himself on not respecting laws. These are extremes that touch and trade places in their intrinsic misunderstandings. In all of them, even if they deny it, insecurity, dissatisfaction, and anxiety will be present while they remain distant from their own essence. Don’t be fooled by slow speech and measured gestures, they don’t always mean serenity and balance; nor do catchphrases and rehearsed speeches serve as proof of wisdom. Many, in the depths of their misunderstanding, try to escape through extravagance, as if being different were enough to become unique or to find the lost path to happiness. Disoriented in shallow characters because they lack essential content, they hide the painful emotions that bleed every night in the darkness of their bedroom. They suffer in secret. Because they don’t know themselves, they disrespect themselves in the impulse of passion that subtracts for not knowing how to add; and they exhaust themselves without achieving anything within. They know nothing of the joy of living in the fullness only allowed by love.” She curled her lips into a soft smile and added: “Love respects without humiliating; respects without settling; respects without needing to agree; respects without being cowardly. Love respects so it doesn’t become imprisoned.”
She paused briefly before continuing: “As we say here in the monastery, the Great Art is the construction of oneself. Erecting a building requires knowing the terrain and planning its use and occupation. A fitting analogy for the path of discoveries, encounters, and conquests to become all that we can be. And we can be a lot.” She went silent for a few moments to sense whether she should continue or let someone else speak. Since everyone in the room seemed interested in the reasoning she was presenting, she went on: “The relentless pursuit of truth is fundamental in building the individual. Going toward truth is to rework the failed experience countless times, until from the painful misunderstanding arises the understanding of where the building was erected without the proper structure to deal with the tremors inherent to existence and, for this reason, collapsed. To rebuild oneself with the dynamism of truth, which changes with each personal discovery, grants the power of emotional balance and the willpower to move forward. The fuel for the journey toward self-conquest is self-love.” She shrugged and concluded: “I will never be able to love myself while I don’t respect myself. Respect is not an attitude to be requested or demanded from anyone; there is no need for any fight or conflict. It is an act of love that each person must practice with themselves.”
We remained silent for a few moments until Renan asked: “If fighting isn’t necessary to earn respect, couldn’t we have stayed together?” Valentina clarified: “You can’t build a relationship without caring about the growth and well-being of everyone involved. Fighting or submitting to the other are two possible choices. But they are not the only ones. Nor do I think they’re the best. Fighting would lead me to live in constant conflict, stealing the gentleness from my days; submitting is equivalent to nullifying the truth as I understand it and, as a result, halting the construction of who I am. I also cannot force anyone to see life through my eyes; that would be adapting someone to live forcibly inside my box, which, no matter how beautiful and spacious it may be, has walls that imprison. I would become the usurper. The ethics of freedom and dignity would be forgotten; my actions cannot go against truth as far as I understand it. To betray my conscience is equivalent to existential suicide.” She opened her arms to emphasize the solution and said: “All that is left is to leave when staying becomes disrespectful.”
Renan said he didn’t understand that last sentence. Valentina explained: “No one is like anyone else, and in that lies the beauty of all. However, it is necessary to know who we are, what defines us, enchants us, ennobles us and elevates us. These are singular and deeply personal movements. One must have courage to face misunderstandings, pain, and fears; ghosts that haunt the past and scare the future. Therefore, being unique has nothing to do with extravagance, but with discoveries, encounters, and inner conquests. Refusing to make this journey is like being mistaken at the boarding platform waiting for a train that will never come.” She drank a sip of water and clarified: “We daydream, hoping for the arrival of a train that will take us to a place where there will never be a lack of milk or delight; all we have to do is board. That will never happen. Reality doesn’t change by magic, but as we make the journey happen, inside and outside ourselves at the same time. A constant and unstoppable movement in the reworking of lived experiences to serve evolutionary transformations. There is no other way to live happiness.” She took another sip of water, turned to Renan and explained: “I could have kept the marriage for many other reasons: fear of living alone, accepting the duel to show myself stronger than you, or to avoid the difficulties inherent in starting over. None of those would help me move forward. There is no good reason when there is disrespect for who we are. Without respect, love doesn’t survive. Love is the essential energy of creation. We are creators of the creatures we become. What can be expected of a creature without self-love?”
Dissatisfied, Renan questioned that if no one is the same, differences would always exist, which would make any relationship impossible. Valentina corrected him: “While I looked through the lens of pride, I couldn’t see what bothered me; through the lens of fear, I refused to go meet the part of me I needed to find. When I came to know the clarity brought by love and respect, the differences enriched me by showing unknown angles of the object to the observer. As I am both, object and observer, the differences helped me find many missing pieces and to fit others that were out of place. Believe me, Renan, even if unintentionally, you were the one who helped me the most to see what I now see. As long as differences cancel rather than explain and complement, the light will remain off. No one needs to agree with or submit to anyone to be enriched by differences, nor will that be enough for two people to travel together on the same journey. It’s not about figuring out who is right or wrong. When a relationship has more clashes than understandings, it means both people have abandoned themselves, waiting for a train that has already passed. Every traveller, each in their own way, out of love and respect, must depart.”
Valentina leaned back in her chair. She was finished. She made herself available to hear from us. No one said a word. The Elder looked at Renan. It was time to express his reasons. With eyes full of tears, he turned to his ex-wife and asked, “If you ever write a poem about us, never forget that I always loved you. My mistake was knowing so little about respect and love.” He had nothing more to say. She stood, kissed him kindly on the cheek, and said goodbye. A lecture she wanted to attend was about to begin.
Alone, Renan took a deep breath and said, “Valentina is right about everything she said. Finding the truth means processing painful experiences with respect and love so we can finally heal the wounds still open. I have the tools to process the events of my marriage in a way that leaves behind no resentment or frustration, but rather balance and strength to make the most of the situations that will arise in the days ahead. That way, and only that way, the truth will serve as a tool for freedom. Life is generous with opportunities.” He shrugged and said, “It’s time to move on. Inside and out. We all need that.” He thanked us for our dedication and care. We scheduled a meeting for the next study cycle. He gave us a tight hug and left.
I commented that Valentina had given me a lesson that morning. The many perspectives involved in a relationship reflect not only how we treat others, but mainly how each of us takes care of ourselves. The Elder smiled and concluded the conversation: “Love and respect have a symbiotic relationship; one is essential to the other. Both have many levels and nuances, different ranges and depths; there is much to learn about them. Respect without love is arrogance or fear; love without respect drains away in the shallow waters of passion. Respect is the main foundation of love, without which it collapses. Respect is also one of the thousand ways to love with wisdom.”
I stood up to grab two mugs of coffee. The day was just beginning at the monastery.
Translated by: Cazmilian Zórdic
