Sometimes a small silence can reveal far more than a long conversation.

This post reflects on emotional distance, boundaries, self-respect, and the uncomfortable moment when we realise that love should not require us to abandon ourselves.

I woke up this morning to a message from Julie asking why I had not contacted her since her divorce hearing last Thursday. The last time we spoke, she was on her way to pick up her lawyer for the hearing she had been anxiously waiting for over the past year.

Julie was completely distraught. Her lawyer, an older woman, seemed disorganised, unprepared, and nowhere near ready to go to court. Julie was panicking and asked me what she should do.

I told her to go back into the house, speak to the lawyer, and find out exactly what was happening.

If they were not going to make it to the hearing because of the lawyer’s lack of professionalism, then there was very little Julie could do in that moment. She is not a lawyer, although she could later take action over what had happened.

She then hung up. I heard nothing more until this morning, when she asked why I had not messaged her. To me, it felt like a classic example of attack being used as the best form of defence. Instead of acknowledging that she had disappeared after a highly emotional moment, she turned the question back on me.

Suddenly, I was the one expected to explain myself, when really I felt hurt by her lack of consideration and by the way she failed to recognise my place in the situation.

For me, it felt like a clear sign of a deeper problem: a lack of love, respect, and understanding within our relationship.

And if I have to explain that to my supposed partner, then I have to ask myself some difficult questions. Why am I explaining what should already be obvious? Why have I allowed things to reach this point? And why would I keep searching for love in a relationship that has begun to feel toxic?

At the heart of it, I am talking about respect. When respect disappears, it can become a subtle form of betrayal. If a partner betrays you in small ways and you keep letting it pass, it slowly eats away at your self-esteem and self-worth. Eventually, you begin to betray yourself by accepting what hurts you.

Still, I have to ask myself whether I am being insensitive to Julie’s situation, or whether this is simply another red flag I do not want to see, especially after ignoring so many others in the past.

These last few days without the constant bombardment of stress and noise have given me time and space to reflect.

The clouds have started to clear, and the sun has begun to shine through again. I have felt lighter, happier, and more at peace with myself. It is a feeling I have not had for a long time, and I do not want to lose it.

When we are involved with someone who is going through a difficult stage in life, we sometimes forget ourselves. We may even abandon ourselves little by little, telling ourselves it is love, loyalty, or patience.

But losing ourselves for someone else can become dangerous. At its worst, it becomes a quiet form of self-destruction.

Perhaps the worst part is that we often do not notice the harm we are inflicting on ourselves. It can resemble the blindness of any dependency, whether it is alcohol, drugs, approval, chaos, or the desperate need to be loved by someone who cannot love us properly.

When internal love has been stripped away, even by people we love, cherish, and trust, we start looking outward for comfort and reassurance. Inside, there can be a hollow space where self-respect used to live. If anything remains, we may be too afraid, too tired, or too hurt to rescue it.

How sad is that?

It is even sadder that I allowed myself to reach this point. I should have established boundaries from the beginning, but when they were crossed, I accepted it blindly. The good thing is that I can see it now, and I do not want to return to that place.

Still, like anyone withdrawing from a dependency, whether it is drugs, alcohol, unhealthy desire, or a toxic relationship, there is a period of abstinence. There are withdrawal symptoms. And that is exactly what I am feeling at the moment.

We may know that what we are hooked on is not good for us. Our minds tell us to stay away, but our bodies still crave what is familiar. That is the first challenge. The real hurdle is learning to let the rational mind guide the body away from dependency, even when the process is long, painful, and full of discomfort.

So, I come back to this: be kind and be happy. And if happiness is not possible in that moment, still be kind, but not naïve. Kindness should never mean abandoning your own dignity. Love should not ask you to disappear so someone else can feel whole.

In bed by 10 p.m.

Thank you for reading.

Thank you for reading this post. Please explore my other writing and share your thoughts in the comments section.

Richard

Photos by Richard George Photography

The post When Silence Says Too Much first appeared on The Long Gringo.

It is Tuesday, and all is well. I have always liked the beginning of the day.

Early morning is when I feel most awake, most useful, and most ready to get things done. In many ways, I feel the same about the beginning of the week.

After the weekend, whether the weather has been good, bad, exceptional, or nothing special at all, I usually feel ready to begin again. The truth is that almost any weekend is enough to reset me for the following week.

I sometimes struggle with insomnia on Sunday night into Monday morning, but even with very little sleep, the start of a new week still feels good to me.

I do not know if I start at full steam on Monday, ease off a little on Tuesday, and then lose another gear by Wednesday, but I can usually keep going until Wednesday night or Thursday morning.

After that, things begin to slide. Thursday is hard, and Friday is harder, though there is always a little relief as the workload softens and my mind drifts toward the weekend.

If Friday is my weakest day for productivity, I make up for it on Saturdays and Sundays.

In theory, they are days of rest, but I have always been able to work on weekends without much remorse. When I had the school in Copacabana, I spent the first couple of years teaching on Saturday mornings from 8:00 until midday. After a while, though, I gave it up.

First, I was already teaching so many classes during the week that I needed a proper break at the weekend. Without that space, I would have gone slightly mad. Second, many people did not really value classes at the weekend. Some seemed to feel entitled to them, but not especially grateful for them.

These days, with journaling, blogging, and video editing, I am more than happy to use the weekend to compensate for a slow Friday, or even for a slow week. If something needs to be done, I would rather sit down and do it than carry it around in my head.

There is a theory that nobody becomes a millionaire by working only a nine-to-five salaried job.

There is another theory that asks a simple question: how can you succeed in your dreams or goals if you are not willing to work on them, even on weekends?

When other people stop chasing their goals at 5 p.m. on Friday and only return to them at 9 a.m. on Monday, the person who keeps going over the weekend is already a little further ahead. Not always by much, but often by enough.

I have never been afraid of work. Cibele once said that work is a pleasure for me, and maybe she is right. I think I have a strong work ethic, but perhaps part of that comes from necessity. I have always had to work, like probably 99% of the world’s population.

What I have noticed, though, is that the thought I had at the beginning of this post is true.

I am usually better at the beginning: the beginning of the day, the week, the month, and maybe even the year. That is when I feel more energetic, more motivated, and more productive. I am not saying the rest of the time is bad. I am saying that I know myself a little better now.

Maybe this pattern appears in other parts of my life too: work, relationships, friendships, and personal routines. I begin well, then I start to lose steam. I may be being too hard on myself, but I also know myself well enough to notice the pattern. I am not perfect. I do my best most of the time, as we all should.

Maybe the trick is not to be productive every hour of every day, but to understand the rhythm of your own energy.

If I know I am stronger at the beginning of things, then perhaps I should stop fighting that and start using it. Work hard when the mind is clear. Rest when the body asks for it. Begin again when the next morning, the next Monday, or the next small chance appears.

Today was a good, productive day.

That is enough.

Be kind and be happy. And if you cannot be happy, still be kind, but not naïve.

In bed by 10 p.m.

Thank you for reading.

Thank you for reading this post. Please explore my other writing and share your thoughts in the comments section.

Richard

Photos by Richard George Photography

The post The Rhythm of a Productive Week first appeared on The Long Gringo.

It is Tuesday, and I am working well, despite the highs and lows of grief.

After going no contact, I feel a level of grief I have never experienced before. It was clear to me that if I didn’t, everything would continue as before and probably only get worse. I told this person via messaging that I did not feel comfortable having contact with her, but she did not seem to care or show any respect.

I also noticed a recurring pattern of going without contact for a couple of months, and when contact was resumed, it was as though nothing had happened or changed, and nothing had improved.

This repetition has become increasingly evident.

It happened last year. We spent about four months without talking, and when we got back together, it was very nice but exhausting. This is something we both noticed while we were together.

Even when I was here in Brazil, and she was there in England, we talked via WhatsApp; however, I kept yawning, and she noticed and commented on it several times.

At the time, I did not think much of it, but now, looking back, I realise I was always tired, down, and exhausted. I was able to do honour and perform all the tasks and duties I should have, but at a slower, drained pace, and, again, I was always tired.

It was as if I were carrying an invisible iron ball and chain with me all the time, and every time we spoke, I grew increasingly tired.

Now I’m feeling more energised since having no contact with her. Even though my mind isn’t 100%, thinking about all that has happened and feeling a sense of failure for not making it go ahead still hurts a lot.

However, I have the energy to focus on my work and future without pity.

I honestly thought she was the one, the person I would spend my days with. To come to terms with the fact that I was wrong and that, in some way, I had made a big ass of myself, provokes self-analysis within me about who I really am.

How could I have been so stupid as to assume so much in such a short period of time? Arriving at 60, haven’t I learned anything yet? All these years of surviving alone in Brazil, providing for myself without any family, etc., haven’t taught me anything? Am I still stupid, not seeing the obvious signs, the red flags, that it was not going to happen?

It seems I am being hard on myself. I’m beating myself up a little, but I am also feeling tired after yet another deception in my life, and at 59, which, in some ways, could be seen as a little ridiculous or even pathetic.

What I have learned, however, during this time, more so after the breakup than during it, is that the answers to all of my and anybody else’s questions can only be found within ourselves, not by looking to others, such as this person, for example, in my case.

We can only heal and become a better person by looking into ourselves, our needs, our projections, our flaws and failings, and how we are feeling, not necessarily the other. We have to look after ourselves, because if we do, then maybe sometime in the future, if I meet another who is at peace with herself, then we can walk together and share.

I am not here to heal another; I’m here to make myself good enough, whole enough to be at peace with myself, and from that, for the other, and vice versa.

I once thought I could help or even fix this person, but it is not my job, nor hers, nor anyone else’s. As I consider myself an empath, one who feels but also wants to fix, which is a complete misconception in itself

My role as an empath is not to fix but to reveal and show. Now that I understand this, I’m looking back over the years, and it has always been my role, unconsciously, to reveal. Now that I am conscious of it, I should have known this a long time ago; only now has everything become clearer to me.

My responsibility is to myself, and although I can feel that something or someone is not aligned, I have the option to reveal it, to show what could be to the other, and it is up to them to make a choice and to take the path they feel is best.

It is not necessary to be so invested in wanting or caring enough to do what is right; again, that’s a personal choice, and it is not my responsibility.

I have done my part. If it is good and proactive for that person, it is good for both of us. It also frees me of any further responsibility and, more importantly, of the energy spent worrying about someone else, especially when my own house and garden need attention, care, and love.

My priority is myself and my well-being, and worrying so much about others is a form of self-abuse and neglect. I am sorry if I expected too much of Julie and if I thought she would be able to do what I saw as clearly possible for her to improve her life and reduce her suffering.

It is up to her to find her own way, and to me, my own, and if we are aligned in the right direction, way, values, etc., then so be it.

Be kind and be happy, and if you can’t be happy, still be kind, but not naïve!

In bed by 10 p.m.

Thank you.

Thanks for reading this blog post. Please explore my other posts and share your thoughts in the comments section.

Richard

Photos by Richard George Photography

The post No Contact | Clarity in Grief first appeared on The Long Gringo.

Some Sundays begin quietly, then surprise you with small acts of kindness, familiar streets, good food, and unexpected reminders that life is still moving, even when money is tight, and the future feels uncertain.

It is Sunday, the beginning of March, thank God. I am broke, with no reserves, and my site is currently down and off the air. I feel very alone.

It is also Nalva’s birthday. She invited me to lunch. I was not going to go because I wanted to stay at home and get on with my own things. But after receiving a payment from a pupil, I thought it would be a good idea to buy her an orchid, or some flowers, for her birthday. After all, she is Yasmin’s mother.

I worked until just after midday. Then I had a shower, changed, and walked the five minutes to the VLT tram station near the condominium.

From there, I went to Central do Brasil train station, then took the metro to Flamengo. There, I am in my element. I have lived on and off in Flamengo for more than 20 years, far longer than in any other neighbourhood in Rio.

I bought an orchid at the Zona Sul supermarket and arrived at Nalva’s. She was happy to receive her second orchid of the day. Earlier, I had sent money to Yasmin so she could buy some flowers or an orchid, which she did, as we knew how much her mother loves them.

We talked and caught up on everything. I think even Yasmin was happy to see me. Nalva mentioned that there was a flat to rent next to theirs and that she would speak to the owner tomorrow. It was unexpected and interesting, so let us see where it goes.

Lunch was simple but very pleasant: a joint of perfectly cooked roast beef, rosy pink inside, served with rice, black beans, salad, and potatoes and onions basted in the meat juices from the tray.

In Brazil, it is not common to have gravy as we do in England. Maybe the beans are a kind of gravy, as they are a sort of sauce and are often cooked with meat.

I offered to wash the dishes, but Yasmin said she would do them, which was another nice surprise. Nalva had bought a nut-and-chocolate cake, which was very good: the perfect dessert and a reason for us to sing happy birthday with five candles representing five decades, even though she is 49.

After a short while, I felt it was time to go. It was already almost 4 p.m., so I said my goodbyes, kissed Yasmin on the forehead, gave them both a hug, thanked them for their hospitality, and left.

Forty minutes later, I was back at home, ready to watch some of my favourite YouTube videos. Several of my favourite channels release new videos on Sundays, which makes the day feel even more special and gives me another reason to call it my favourite day of the week.

Sunday mornings are my time, just for me. Well, in theory. The YouTube channels I love, and the fresh videos they often release on Sundays, make the day even better:

• Matt Armstrong: A young, tattooed Englishman who specialises in restoring and rebuilding crashed and damaged supercars. He has become a giant, almost a legend, in automotive YouTube. In five years, he has gained more than 6,000,000 subscribers, with each new Sunday video reaching more than 1,000,000 views within 24 hours. Everybody loves him. He is simple, kind, humble, charismatic, positive, happy, and an excellent storyteller.

• Sailing Parlay: Colin, a New Zealand marine engineer who is also tattooed, bought a hurricane-damaged catamaran, spent four or five years rebuilding it, and is now sailing it around the world with invited crew and friends.

• Gone with the Wynns: A young, modern, married American couple who previously owned a sailboat and have now bought an aluminium trawler in Holland to navigate and circumnavigate the world. They are young, positive, full of energy, and excellent communicators.

• Sailing Nahoa: A family with two children sailing the world on a catamaran. What caught my attention most was the relationship between the couple and what they share, which, for me, is very endearing.

There are other channels, of course, but these are the main ones I look forward to every Sunday. If I am lucky, they have released something new. It does not always happen, but when it does, it is great, whether I watch in the morning or later in the day.

If not, I can still watch during the week, knowing something new has been published and is waiting for me. That is a lovely feeling. These channels make my Sundays even more special than they already are, and for that, I am very grateful.

Be kind and be happy. And if you cannot be happy, still be kind, but not naïve.

In bed by 10 p.m.

Thank you.

Thank you for reading this post. Please explore my other writing and share your thoughts in the comments section.

Richard

Photos by Richard George Photography

The post Sunday of Orchids, Roast Beef and Small Mercies first appeared on The Long Gringo.

It is Thursday. I was supposed to go to Copacabana today to teach Dona Vera, but the class was cancelled.

In a way, that is a relief, because I still have not found the best way to get quickly from Santo Cristo to the South Zone. The cancellation has given me time to prepare and publish a blog post.

I am very happy with the quality of the posts I have been writing recently, and I now have a method that helps me keep that quality consistent without spending too much time. What used to take two or three hours now takes about one. Posting from Monday to Friday has officially become part of my routine, although I still like to write at least once at the weekend too.

In a little over a year, I have built a blog that is up and running and has almost 300 posts. The blog ‘The Long Gringo’ is simple, and often, in life, simple is good. I think I am a simple man, and the blog reflects that.

There is still a lot to improve and develop, and I know it will change over time, but that is part of evolution. I am extremely happy with the logo and the layout. I will probably need to make changes in the future, but for the first year, I am happy.

These days, it is impossible to imagine my life without journaling or blogging. They have become an important part of my daily rhythm: a walking stick to lean on, a friend to confide in, and a kind of therapy that helps keep me sane and moving in the right direction.

Why did I not start much earlier?

Why only now, in the latter part of my life? Why could I not have listened to others and followed their example? These questions appear from time to time, but I also know that if I follow them too far down the rabbit hole, asking why again and again, I will drive myself mad.

Do I regret not beginning to journal much earlier? Yes, of course I do. But I cannot dwell too much on the past. That is how things were, and I am happy to have discovered journaling and blogging now. More than happy, in fact. I am grateful that they found me.

Whether the blogging side of it will help people, or become successful in terms of support and monetisation, I do not know. But it is there for anyone to read, and I hope it is entertaining, honest, and supportive in some small way.

One strange thing I have noticed about myself is that after I journal, usually early in the morning, I do not remember exactly what I have written.

I might remember the broad outline of yesterday’s entry, but not the actual content, the details, the words, the places, the people, or the structure and bones of it. If you asked me about the day before yesterday, it would be even worse. I might not remember even the outline.

Is that good or bad?

In one way, I think it is good, because every day feels new and offers something fresh to write about. The only problem is that if I do not remember what I wrote yesterday, I could be repeating myself without realising it. I hope that is not the case.

Perhaps I am repetitive sometimes, as we all are when we return to the same themes in our lives, but over time, there should still be growth and movement. I change, and the writing changes with me, true to the fluidity of life.

This new blank page in front of me every morning is deeply satisfying and soothing. Yesterday’s pages, last week’s pages, even last month’s pages, do not matter when I sit down to write what is true today.

How good is that? If only real life worked the same way. If only we could put down all that heavy baggage from the past and let it disappear as easily as a discarded draft.

Past relationships, marriages, mistakes, regrets, things we did and things we failed to do can weigh heavily, especially as we get older and start looking back over our lives. And what about the things others have done to us, or against us? To wipe those away, too, would be a powerful kind of freedom.

We all have our own journey and our own battles to face. No one can or should take that away from us, devalue it, or judge it. Only we know the hurt, trauma, disappointment, and heartbreak we have lived through, and may still be living through. Like a journal with a blank page waiting every morning, life gives us the chance to put the past behind us and begin again.

Life is hard, even brutal, and at times it can feel overwhelming. But it is still ours, and it is still very good. Every day is another chance.

Be kind and be happy. And if you cannot be happy, still be kind, but not naïve.

In bed by 9 p.m.

Thank you.

Thank you for reading this post. Please explore my other writing and share your thoughts in the comments section.

Richard

Photos by Richard George Photography

The post Every Morning | A Blank Page first appeared on The Long Gringo.

It is Monday, and I begin the week with a quiet sense of expectation. Last Thursday and Friday, I signed the lease for a tiny studio in Rio’s port area.

I am genuinely looking forward to it because it marks the beginning of a new chapter in my life. In some ways, it reminds me of my time in Copacabana, when I lived alone. Back then, I was dating Katia. Now, I am not dating anyone.

This is a time for me. Instead of worrying about others or losing myself in someone else’s problems, I need this solitude so I can reconnect with myself and focus on my own future.

I want to be free from distractions so I can invest in myself, Richard George James Jackson, and build a stronger foundation for the next couple of years. To do that, I need to understand myself better. After so many ups and downs over the last year and a half, and after facing so many challenges and disappointments, I feel I have already become more self-aware.

Even so, I would like to go deeper.

I have learned that, if we want to be happy in our external lives, with friends, family, relationships, work, and everything else, we first need to be in tune with who we really are. We need to look at ourselves in the mirror, recognise ourselves, accept ourselves, and take ownership of who we are.

The better we know ourselves, including our flaws, limitations, and weaknesses, the better we can live with ourselves and, consequently, with the outside world.

It is not easy to become truly self-aware. Much of who we are is connected to our childhood and to the traumas we experienced then. Many of those wounds are carried unconsciously throughout our lives. If we never become aware of them, they can poison, disrupt, and wreak havoc on our adult lives, especially in our relationships.

Over the last couple of months, since I returned to Brazil, I have been racking my brain, trying to understand exactly what happened in England with my mother and Julie. In some ways, it had opened a small Pandora’s box inside me.

The conflicts with my mother spilt over into my inner world, reminding me of my childhood while also showing me what is no longer acceptable in my life, particularly when it comes to my mental health. This toxic tide was not limited to my mother or to memories of the past; it also revealed patterns in my relationship with Nalva and, to a lesser extent, with Julie.

When I lived with Nalva, I said many times that it felt as though I had married my mother. The same verbal cruelty, manipulation, and even the dynamic my father had with my mother were repeated in our relationship.

After a great deal of self-reflection, it now seems reasonably clear to me that I consciously chose to be with a woman like my mother in an attempt to win her over unconsciously, or to receive the love I did not have as a child.

What I am trying to say is that, by understanding this now, at almost 60, I can be better with myself. I no longer need to look for someone else to give me the validation I wanted as a child, which I never received, and unconsciously believed I still needed as an adult.

Basically, not to repeat the same pattern that I have been repeating all my life until recently.

With this understanding, I feel that those chains have been broken on my side. I am no longer enslaved by what I once believed I unconsciously needed. I am free to live my life without seeking validation from someone I love. As for my mother, I respect her and forgive her, but I do not want to give her even one millimetre of my space, because I know she will not respect it.

At more than 80 years old, she cannot change. I tried to talk to her on several occasions while I was in England, but to no avail. I have heard the cruelty of her words when she is angry, unable to control the situation or control me. I have also seen her cry like a six-year-old because someone could not immediately do what she wanted, which revealed to me her deep insecurity and immature, childlike nature.

It’s not that I want to be cruel or for her to suffer; I only wish for her well-being and for myself to find peace with her.

I do not know what will happen over the next six months to a year. The unknown and the unexpected turns life takes can be something quite remarkable, because when you least expect it, something happens. I want to go back to England, but if I do, I do not want to stay with my mother. Going to England was an eye-opening experience. In some ways, I thought she might have changed, but she had not, and that is not my fault.

Self-awareness brings us into a grounded reality that was always there, even if we could not see it before. Because of that, it can feel rewarding, like a breath of fresh air in our lives, and something truly sublime.

And Julie, I think about her every day. I would have liked us to have had a deeper relationship. Only the future knows. At the same time, I feel that perhaps I dodged a bullet and got out while I could. She has her issues and problems to resolve, and I have mine. The short time we shared was very special, and I am grateful for it.

Be kind and be happy, and if you can’t be happy, still be kind, but not naïve!

In bed by 11 p.m.

Thank you.

Thanks for reading this blog post. Please explore my other posts and share your thoughts in the comments section.

Richard

Photos by Richard George Photography

The post Breaking Chains | Self-Awareness, Solitude, and a New Chapter in Rio first appeared on The Long Gringo.

Today I skipped my usual early-morning exercise in the park and chose something better suited to a Saturday: a long, wandering walk in Rio.

As usual, I began at the Portuguese bakery at 6 a.m. with two large coffees and my journal. After that, I went home, cut my hair with the clippers I have had for years, showered, changed clothes and headed back out.

Because it was Saturday morning, the shops and showrooms were open, so I walked to Marina da Glória to look at the new Triumph motorcycle dealership. During the seven months I spent in England, they built an impressive circular showroom, dealership and service centre in front of the marina. It sits between one of the piers and the underground car park, and it really does catch the eye.

It did not take me long to get there on foot. I have lost count of how many times I have made that walk, even back when I had the dogs, and we would wander up to Marina da Glória together.

When I arrived, motorcycles were parked around the circular building, and there seemed to be a presentation or client event taking place. That is common in Rio: dealerships often host Saturday breakfasts or brunches for customers and possible future ones.

I remember once going to a Harley-Davidson dealership in Recreio with Jacqueline on a Saturday morning because she wanted to take a test ride on one of Harley’s new bikes. When we arrived, they were holding an open day with breakfast, with everything laid on for clients, including test rides.

Back to the Triumph dealership. The bikes were lovely and, surprisingly, not as expensive as I expected.

Compared with prices in England, they seemed similar and in some cases even a little cheaper. I do not know how that works, because imported motorcycles and cars in Brazil usually face heavy duties and taxes. Still, it made me think that one day, whether in Brazil or England, I may buy either a Triumph or a Royal Enfield.

Triumph appeals to me because of its quality, beauty and tradition. Royal Enfield appeals because it offers good value for money. I spent about half an hour looking around before leaving. I crossed the Aterro, the main dual carriageway that connects Rio’s South Zone with the city centre, and caught a bus back. Instead of getting off near home, I stayed on until Rio Sul, the main shopping centre in the South Zone.

I am not a fan of shopping centres. Since Yasmin was born, I have not had much disposable income to spend casually in places like Rio Sul, which is considered one of the more exclusive malls in Rio and probably the most exclusive in the South Zone.

I entered through the main entrance, where there is a Taco clothing store on the right.

The brand was created decades ago with the idea of offering reasonably good-quality, good-looking basic clothes at fair prices. In the past, I did not like their jeans very much, but they have changed the cut, and now they are much better. At the moment, I am preferring dark, smart, more formal denim that works well for both work and going out in the evening.

I was not planning to buy jeans, but I did, and there were two reasons for this. First, I had not bought myself a pair for more than two or three years. Second, I could not remember the last time I walked into a decent clothes shop in Brazil and bought something for myself, simply because I liked it. I have done that for other people, but not for me. So today I treated myself.

While I was in England, I did treat myself a few times at ALDI, but ALDI does not really count. I mean a proper clothes shop, not a discount supermarket.

After buying the jeans, I wandered around the mall for a while and then walked to Urca through the back streets behind the shopping centre; it is a kind of shortcut. When I arrived in Urca, I bought a glass of wine and a portion of cold pork crackling with lemon to squeeze over it. It was wonderful.

There is something quietly perfect about sitting on the Mureta da Urca with a glass of wine, a portion of crackling in hand, Flamengo across the bay and the boats from the Yacht Club bobbing gently on the water. I journalled on the wall there, had another glass of wine, watched Rio doing what it does best, and then walked home.

I am feeling a little anxious at the moment about the possibility of moving into the new studio flat in Santo Cristo, hopefully within the next couple of weeks. Apart from that, everything is good. My life is not exactly how I would like it to be, but that is life itself.

Some days you plan to exercise, and instead you end up walking through the city, dreaming of motorbikes, buying jeans and drinking wine by the bay. There are worse Saturdays.

Be kind and be happy, and if you can’t be happy, still be kind, but not naïve!

In bed by 11 p.m.

Thank you.

Thanks for reading this blog post. Please explore my other posts and share your thoughts in the comments section.

Richard

Photos by Richard George Photography

The post A Saturday Walk In Rio | Motorbikes, New Jeans and Wine on the Mureta first appeared on The Long Gringo.

Just another Saturday, but not quite. Nowadays, I love my weekends.

The feeling of not having to teach on the weekend gives me a sense of freedom I don’t have during the week. Don’t get me wrong, I like teaching and the pupils I have, but the obligation to sell my time, after so long, sometimes hurts my soul.

I still have to do my other duties, such as blogging, journaling, and, if possible or necessary, video editing. Still, these are my own choices, not necessities or a hard, unwavering obligation. There are times when I don’t feel like doing them, but I do them because they are essential to me. I want to do them, and I have a choice, but during the week, I don’t have that choice with classes.

Today I have done a lot of exercise, including a 10K walk, a swim of 30 lengths, ab wheel exercises, meditation, stretching, some aerobic exercises and Tai chi, and it is all good. On the way back from the walk, I stopped by Guarabira’s bar for a 0% beer. I drank two there and the third on my way home.

What has been difficult today is that my supposed partner did not send me a ‘good morning’ until after I had to sent one. It sounds petty, and in a way it is, but it also shows, to me, that a relationship has to be 50/50, a two-way street with both parties equally participating.

There has always been an issue between us about exchanging good mornings first thing, especially when I came back to Brazil. I noticed that she would only send me a good morning after I had sent one, even though she gets up before me because of the time difference.

England is 3, sometimes 4, hours ahead of Brazil. It would be appropriate for her to send me one as soon as she gets up, since she clearly expects the same from me here in Brazil, just later.

As I had noticed that it was a little like this and, in my interpretation, one-sided, I told her about it. Even so, nothing changed, completely ignorant of the situation.

This wouldn’t be a problem if she didn’t expect a proper good morning from me every day, just as she does with many other things she wants from me but doesn’t reciprocate or expect from herself. For me, this is the heart of the issue.

I have tried to make excuses for her and to convince myself that it is not important, but I have noticed that it affects my peace and mental health. Because of this situation, my personal balance goes crazy, leaving me feeling tired. It seems unnatural; it’s always heavy, and it shouldn’t be.

I have tried to talk to her about this, but ultimately, if it were a healthy relationship, there wouldn’t be this kind of issue, conversation, stress, and disappointment. Everything I am saying now shouldn’t be necessary in a healthy, good, and positive relationship.

This morning, I woke up to no good morning. OK, no problem, but I sent her a “good morning,” and then she sent me one with an embarrassed emoji, which suggests she was trying to make me look stupid and provoke. More importantly, I have noticed a pattern of her not wanting to voluntarily please and be kind; it is just for her to receive.

Just being friendly and kind, knowing what your partner likes, and doing something to please him or her is so good and special, and it reaps loads for both of you and the relationship in the future.

When I was in England, we did not get intimate. When she came to Brazil to visit me, she never once cooked for me. I asked her to cook for me just once, as cooking for someone is a form of affection, but she couldn’t. There was always an excuse.

Now we are apart, I in Brazil and she in England. She’s incapable of sending a good morning. As I said, it’s not just about me wanting something to feed my ego. More importantly, I don’t want to be in another relationship where I’m giving and giving and giving and not receiving. It has to be a balance, but my intuition keeps shouting at me that it’s not.

Saying good morning, especially to a loved one or someone special in your life, is really very nice.

I also like to naturally say good morning to people in the street, such as policemen, workers, and street cleaners. For me, this is a pleasure and a form of respect for them and their work, but it also has a subtle kindness to it that people may recognise, though it’s not so clear.

Saying good morning to someone is very nice. I think it’s even more special than saying “good afternoon” or “good evening”. They’re all very nice, but good morning is especially special. Maybe it’s because it’s the morning, the beginning of the day, and we have the whole unknown day ahead.

When we greet someone with “good morning,” we acknowledge that we are alive and embracing a new day, and we wish them well for that day ahead.

Maybe I’m looking too much into it, but I do take great pleasure in wishing people I know, or only know by sight, a good morning. It makes me feel good to do so, and to receive a sincere “good morning,” especially from a loved one, feels very good.

Since this morning, we haven’t spoken, and this game has been going on for a long time. I am tired. I think it’s time to walk away. The universe is showing me what I have to do. If I don’t, I’m stupid and maybe deserve to suffer. And that makes me a c#nt.

Be kind and be happy, and if you can’t be happy, still be kind, but not naïve!

In bed by 10 p.m.

Thank you.

Thanks for reading this blog post. Please explore my other posts and share your thoughts in the comments section.

Richard

Photos by Richard George Photography

The post The Weight of a Sincere ‘Good Morning’ first appeared on The Long Gringo.

It is Sunday, and there are four days until Julie arrives from England.

In a way, I can’t believe I have invited her to Brazil. Not necessarily the invitation itself, but more the cost of the flight ticket. Besides, it’s a lot of money for me at the moment, and I’ve never really done this for anyone before.

Cibele has always been financially self-sufficient since the first day we met. She has always had more financial resources than I do, so money has never been an issue for her when it comes to travelling.

Nalva, on the other hand, has never had real financial responsibility; she has always lived above her means and has found ways to go into debt. Since I have known her, money problems have always haunted us in one way or another. For us to travel, especially for Yasmin, it has always been my responsibility because, if needing Nalva’s help, such trips would be impossible.

It is not that I am complaining, but rather that I am explaining why financial responsibility and economic balance are so important in modern-day relationships.

This is even more true if you are not rich, wealthy, or in a good situation. Living in Brazil without any economic or moral support from my family in England has always taken a toll on even the slightest financial purchase, cost, emergency, outlay, or investment.

When you are in a relationship, and there is an economic imbalance, and again I’m talking about a normal situation where you are not wealthy, dependent on your salary or your business to pay the bills every month, the economic or financial balance between partners is so important for a lasting relationship.

It is not just a financial question but, even more importantly, a question of respect from both sides. As money has been so important in our lives since the beginning of time, people have been obsessed with it. This is why power is profoundly tied to money; they have walked hand in hand.

With power there is money, and with money you can acquire power, creating an endless vicious circle that so many people, especially politicians and sociopaths, get caught up in, lose themselves, lose control, and, in turn, become miserable, unhappy beings with serious psychological problems that basically destroy them.

When we talk about respect in a relationship, especially when money is at stake, we are talking about practising respect with a level of responsibility so as not to destroy ourselves, the other person, and, of course, the relationship.

The more fortunate partners, who have more resources, must know how not to use that privilege in ways that benefit them rather than the couple. Not to use it for control, manipulation, or even to belittle the other, simply because they have it and the other does not.

We’re talking about one of the oldest flaws in the Society of the haves and the have-nots, where the haves use it to flaunt what they have, including the power they wield. In contrast, the have-nots only know how to be submissive and even to suffer, to be enslaved, in such a situation.

Look at Brazil. Its government, and many other governments around the world, treat their politicians as the elite and the population, the taxpayers who make their contributions, as a lower level, even though the population supports the elite upper level. Ironically, the elite upper level, the politicians, are dependent on taxpayers’ money because, without it, they wouldn’t have the power they have. That is the irony and hypocrisy of the situation, especially in Brazil.

As I mentioned, money is power, and power needs to be respected and used in a positive, generous way, not frivolously or cruelly, driven by ego, insecurity, or irresponsibility.

It would be wise to use one’s resources generously, not excessively, but to show when it is better to be more or less generous, so the other can understand that the partner is not a walking bank or ATM and that the less fortunate one could look for ways to improve oneself to arrive, if possible, at the same financial level as the other, consequently balancing the economic power in the relationship, which in turn is a form of mutual respect.

The less fortunate partner in a relationship should be intelligent enough to understand that everything in life has a price, and that if you abuse such a situation, you will eventually pay a heavy price. Everyone’s generosity has its limits, and if you exceed them, life makes you pay even more.

Even if you don’t exceed a certain financial or economic limit, ignoring a situation that cannot be sustained indefinitely will ultimately cost much more. Even if you wish for things to remain unchanged and do everything possible to maintain that illusion, disregarding the reality of the situation will lead to consequences. Life has a way of ensuring that we eventually pay the price of our choices.

The lesson is to dose the right level and limit for both sides, and for both to be mindful of it respectfully and lovingly. Beyond relationships,

I have seen economic imbalance in families where the rich half has nothing to do with the poor half, even though it is just money; my family is a classic example of this. My uncle is a millionaire, was extremely successful as a top executive in the past, is now retired, and has never been close to our side of the family, only when he needed something, some support that money could not buy.

Buying a flight ticket for Julie is very good for her, as it offers the possibility of a future experience she may never have imagined. Coming to a city like Rio is something very special, not just for her but for me too. Being generous makes us feel good. Christmas is a time of giving, not necessarily receiving, and usually a normal, balanced person gives us a buzz and makes us feel good.

It has also been a revelation and an eye-opener for me to be generous with my limited financial resources and to be able to give her, somebody who is very special in my life at the moment, such support at present. What I’m trying to say is that maybe I’m not explaining myself very well, but just as it has been good for her, it has also been very good for me.

The act of giving, especially when expecting nothing in return, simply for the sake of giving, is so good. I know that I gave, and I will receive her company here in Brazil for almost a month, but I do not have any other great expectations.

It could be very good, just good, or even bad or terrible; nothing is guaranteed. I came up with this crazy idea and presented it to her. She accepted, and now she’s coming. While she’s here, I hope she has the time of her life, and so do I.

It is not logical for a person to travel, especially abroad, and end up stressed as a result. I am pleased with myself, thankful that she is coming, and very grateful.

Be kind and be happy, and if you can’t be happy, still be kind, but not naïve!

In bed by 9 p.m.

Thank you.

Thanks for reading this blog post. Please explore my other posts and share your thoughts in the comments section.

Richard

Photos by Richard George Photography

The post Financial Harmony | Navigating Economic Balance in Relationships first appeared on The Long Gringo.

It is Thursday, and I’m enjoying my life at the moment.

I don’t think I have ever really stopped to reflect on whether I’m happy, good or not. I have always been worried about others, what has to be paid, how I’m going to pay, and, if not, how I’m going to resolve it.

I wrote yesterday about clarity and how important it is in our lives, and how much it affects our quality of life. I think we all believe we have clarity to a certain extent, or have always had it, but like anything in life, it is relative.

It is like a well-known video online of a very young baby with very poor eyesight who is suddenly forced to put on glasses for the first time, even though she does not want to wear them.

After much confusion and insistence from her mother and the doctor, she finally allows them to be put on. Suddenly, when she opens her eyes for the first time, a flood of sharp, vivid colours and images takes over her sight and mind. The shock is like a tsunami, a stark contrast between what was and what she was living before, and what she is experiencing now.

The baby had fought against putting them on, only from the insistence of her parents and the tight-fitting, foreign frame being put on its little face and head did she get to see the new world with beautiful colours and sights that she had never seen before, and I think this is the same with us when it comes to clarity.

We are used to the blurry world before the glasses; it is home, it is safe, even if we are suffering, drifting and deceiving ourselves. Only after putting on the glasses can we see clearly.

The parents and the doctor wanted to do their best by insisting that the baby wear the glasses. Sometimes, family, friends, or even a loved one wants us to put on those glasses, but we don’t. We are afraid, afraid of the unknown, of foreign possibilities and the consequences that come.

But sometimes, due to a lot of frustration, desperation, disappointment and suffering, we put on those glasses voluntarily, the last resort after so much disappointment, nowhere else to turn but to do the unknown, even though it is strange for us, even though we’re walking in the dark.

When I mention disappointment, it is not just with others and the life we are living, but with ourselves too, because at the end of the day, it all comes back to our own choices. There is the saying, “It is all my fault,” and to a point, it is.

The sooner we understand this, bite the bullet, and put on the damn glasses, the better. And then comes the clarity, the clarity we have long looked for in the wrong places, giving us a clarity we never had before.

Our life, our work, and our relationships are what is good, bad, the ugly, and the beautiful. What was not clear is now in focus. What was dull is now interesting, and vice versa. What was important is now unimportant, and vice versa. What you could not find a way to do, or whose way was not clear, is now clear to you. What made you happy before no longer makes you happy, and vice versa.

And with all this clarity, there is no unclarity, no indecision, no insecurity, no doubt, no sense of loss, no being lost.

Even though you are not 100% sure or guaranteed about the direction you decide to take, you know it is right, that there will be setbacks, and that they are part of the process and the journey. That is the path of life. Clarity is showing you the right way and the decisions.

I suggest that if you haven’t tried on the glasses of clarity, you try them on and see how suddenly everything becomes clearer, better, sharper and more vivid, and then ask why you haven’t worn them before.

Be kind and be happy, and if you can’t be happy, still be kind, but not naïve!

In bed by 10 p.m.

Thank you.

Thanks for reading this blog post. Please explore my other posts and share your thoughts in the comments section.

Richard

Photos by Richard George Photography

The post Seeing Clarity | Embracing Clarity in Life first appeared on The Long Gringo.