The pot of fresh coffee was placed on the heavy wooden counter of Loureiro’s small workshop. Loureiro, the shoemaker who loved books and wine, had the rare gift of stitching together bags and ideas with uncommon skill. I was returning from a period of study in the monastery, where I learned that all knowledge has unexpected uses. A builder’s practice in construction teaches that the poorly filled gaps in a foundation, that are difficult to notice because they lie below the ground, can surprisingly lead to the collapse of a seemingly solid building. This is true for you and me when we fail to properly structure the mortar of truth and let the values of light in our souls fade. The right time to bake bread does not allow it to be undercooked or burnt. In both cases, the dough would remain lost. The same goes for your decisions and mine, some pivotal in our lives, when made too early or too late.
Loureiro listened to me without saying a word until I asked for his opinion about my desire to change the course of my business—a decision so important that it would bring significant alterations to my daily routine. As with any choice, there were expectations of gains and risks of losses. Loureiro reflected: “My opinion, just like anyone else’s, won’t help much.” I wanted to know why, and he explained: “If you wanted to become a shoemaker, I could detail the craft, the necessary precautions to avoid common mistakes made by those starting in a business they don’t know. However, I could never say if it would be the right decision. The fact that I love what I do doesn’t necessarily mean it’s a path you should follow, nor that what I consider a good business would be viewed the same way.” He shrugged and added, “In certain moments, no matter how well-intentioned the opinions of friends are, they will be of no value. The reason is simple: when you need the certainty of others to dispel your doubts, it means the time for a decision has not yet arrived.”
He then clarified: “This means you’re not ready for the inevitable consequences of change. There are questions that help you learn more about the business, which are very valuable. However, there are questions intended to fill the gaps in your certainty; these will be of no use. As much as I want to help, I cannot. This is something no one can do for anyone else. When I believe that someone’s conviction has the power to remove my doubt, it means I still haven’t understood my own power or the commitment I have to myself. Handing over the process of building certainties is like deciding without making choices; unconsciously, I stop living my own truths to be led by others’ truths. A mistake that causes my life to slip from my control.” He took a sip of coffee and predicted, “If you were ready for the decision, you would have communicated that to me; you would never have asked for my opinion.”
I argued that the opinion of a friend, especially someone we admire, can reveal biases we had never considered. He disagreed: “Apparently, yes. In depth, not always. A person’s point of view may not represent the best understanding of reality, as it often carries the influence of fears and frustrations or delusions and desires, without any bad faith on their part. Although intentions may be good, the result will be empty. If the decision isn’t driven by the truth rooted in our principles, values, experience, and perspective, it won’t be ours but someone else’s. Far from our truth, we drift away from who we are and lose the ability to become who we could be. When we follow the path that others have chosen for us, we travel a road that will lead nowhere.”
Loureiro used the metaphors I had offered: “Lives like that are akin to poorly constructed buildings, with evident calculation errors in their foundations. They do not serve to shelter the soul securely but are used to hide responsibilities and evolutionary commitments. Being built on pillars of truths that, in reality, hold no truth, we witness so many collapses. In some cases, it’s as if light tremors possess the fury of earthquakes.”
He paused and continued: “My disappointments and bitterness can prevent someone from making a good deal; on the other hand, my irresponsibilities and delusions may suggest a path that will lead that person to the precipice. All with the best of intentions.” He furrowed his brow, as he did when he heightened the seriousness of the conversation, and declared: “Your life, your truths. No other can fit in their place.”
I was about to say something when we were interrupted by the entrance of one of the shoemaker’s nephews. Miguel, as he was called, was a handsome man with broad shoulders, red hair and beard, and greenish eyes that provided an interesting palette of colours to his face. At around thirty years old, he was a successful professional. He had married young, shortly after graduating in Economics. He lived in a bustling metropolis about two hours from the quiet town where his mother lived and where the shoemaker’s workshop was located. He explained that his wife had not accompanied him this time because he had taken a few days off for reflection. He confessed that he was unhappy in his marriage; they felt like two strangers in the same house. He believed it was time for a divorce and wanted to hear his uncle’s opinion. I was taken aback by the synchronicity of it all.
Miguel mentioned that he had spoken to his wife several times without any improvement in their relationship. They were in a dead end; the only solution would be to go their separate ways, he asserted. Loureiro made him reflect on his own words: “If it’s a dead end, there’s no way for each of you to go their separate ways. You’ll have to return together the way you came in.”
The nephew fell silent for a moment. There was something in his uncle’s reasoning that had unsettled him. After collecting his thoughts, he said that perhaps he had expressed himself poorly. In reality, they were at a fork in the road. There was no agreement on which way to go. It would be better for each to head in a different direction, he lamented. The shoemaker pondered: “That doesn’t stop you from wishing for the same destination. If you want to reach the same place, there’s no reason to go separately; rather, you should choose a route that can accommodate both of you.”
The nephew wanted to know if his uncle was advising him to stay in the marriage. Loureiro explained: “I didn’t say that. Nor did I say the opposite.”
Miguel threw up his arms as if to express that he didn’t understand at all. The shoemaker clarified: “I’m using your words to show you how lost you are. No one finds a direction before they find themselves.”
Miguel said this was why he had come to ask for his uncle’s opinion. Loureiro surprised him: “You don’t help someone who is lost by showing them a direction to walk; moving from one place to another doesn’t mean you already have a route. Many walk in circles under the illusion that movement will lead them to some destination. A very common mistake.” The nephew wanted to know if his uncle would help him. The shoemaker explained: “I can show you a map so you can understand where you are. Nothing more.”
Finding oneself is the essential preparation that must come before any decision; choosing which way to go on the map is the next phase. In both stages, it is crucial to learn to listen to the voice of the soul, your most powerful advisor, who knows your truths better than anyone.
Miguel argued that separation was the only solution. It was unbearable to live in the same house and share a life with a woman he no longer recognized as his wife. He could not endure living like this any longer. It would be the best decision. Loureiro shook his head and said, “Then do it.” After a brief silence, the nephew reflected that their children were still young and would suffer greatly. He could not bear to cause such pain to those he loved so much. Perhaps it would be wiser to wait until they reached their teenage years, when they would be better able to handle the breakup. The shoemaker ran his hands through his thick white hair, as if combing it, and said, “Then do it.”
Irritated and confused, Miguel expressed his inability to understand why his uncle was behaving this way. Loureiro tried to explain: “If you don’t know what is best for your life, no one can help you. I can help fix the sails of the boat, but I can never decide the destination of a journey I am neither the captain nor a passenger of.”
Miguel’s eyes searched mine for help. I gave a simple shake of my head, enough for him to understand that I could not assist him in any way. In that moment, I understood my own situation. When we are not firm about the decision we are about to make, it means that the truth is still raw and cannot support a choice. On the other hand, if we leave it in the oven for too long, it will burn and serve no nourishment. The time for a decision is a mandatory lesson in the school of the wise.
Not hiding his dissatisfaction, the nephew used a noticeably sarcastic tone to thank us for the conversation, turned on his heels, and left. Without exchanging a word, Loureiro and I agreed that Miguel had received the best help. One day he would understand. I suggested another round of fresh coffee to begin a new discussion. When the shoemaker returned with the pot and filled the mugs, we were surprised by the arrival of Lorena, his youngest daughter. The young woman brought an unusual and infectious joy in her eyes. After greeting us sweetly, she said she needed to talk to her father. I mentioned that it was time for me to head to the station, or I would miss my train. With a mischievous smile, she said the train would still be a few hours away. She pointed to the still-steaming coffee in my mug, as if to say I should enjoy it slowly. She crossed to the other side of the heavy wooden counter, sat beside her father, and announced that she had quit her job. Since graduating as a software programmer, Lorena had worked as a contractor providing support for a well-known site specialising in selling women’s products from various famous brands. A stable job with an excellent salary.
The young woman told her father that she had learned a lot, saved some money, and that it was time to follow another path to maintain the direction she had set for her life. Loureiro’s lips curled into a slight smile. His daughter asked why he was smiling. The father explained: “Yes, it’s true. Like a long-distance journey, where we have to make many connections to reach our destination, during our existential journey we must change routes several times to stay on course. Few accept that the destination reveals itself and changes during the journey.”
Excited, Lorena explained that she would be starting a small business that, at first, would operate from her own apartment. Alongside a doctor friend, they would create a mobile app that would monitor patients with serious heart conditions in real-time. Using a tiny chip implanted in the skin near the heart, the information would be transmitted via Bluetooth to the patient’s phone, which would in turn send the data to the cardiologist’s phone, issuing an alert if the programme detected any anomalies. The app would be sold at a minimal price. However, since millions of people suffer from heart diseases, she believed it to be a good business opportunity, both for the patients and for the users of the system.
Loureiro asked his daughter if she was sure about her choice. “Absolutely,” she replied serenely. He reminded her of the difficulties inherent in changing routes, which, while leading to unexpected landscapes and crucial achievements, also present unknown dangers. He issued a warning: “Prepare for the improbable. There’s no way to avoid it. Anything can happen.” I realised that Loureiro’s words were not meant to discourage, but rather to test the strength and balance of the young woman, which were essential for such a pivotal decision. His daughter expressed that she had no doubts. There was firmness and softness in her voice. Yes, she was ready. Lorena asked her father if he had anything more to add. He said: “Continue to take charge of your choices. This gives you the magic of life. Moreover, never forget that there will always be joy when we are enchanted by the good side of all problems. Those who live this way do not know defeat.” They embraced warmly. She whispered, “Thank you so much, Dad.” I saw a smile in the shoemaker’s eyes as he replied to his daughter, “I will be here whenever you need.”
With teary eyes, Lorena said her goodbyes and set off on the adventure necessary for life. She carried with her the power of truth. Her truth.
Alone with the shoemaker, I commented that I too was not ready for the decision I needed to make regarding my professional life, as I had learned that it was the firmness in my foundations, built upon the values I believed in, that would allow me a strong connection with who I am; in addition to providing the strength and balance needed to go beyond where I had always been. Only then could I decide. Otherwise, it was time to wait. Anxiety, a clear misalignment with time, life, and truth, weakens reason, muddles feelings and emotions, saps courage, and opens the door to imbalance. Conversely, I needed to remain vigilant not to let fear make me miss the hour of decision.
Loureiro emptied his coffee mug and remarked: “Each decision is like one of the connections in the Great Journey. In order to maintain the course towards the destination, the routes need numerous adjustments as our understanding and our needs change. Understanding the time for a decision is akin to becoming the master of oneself.”
Translated by Cazmilian Zórdic.
