# 12 – Between leisure and purpose, there's happiness
Hey everyone,
This piece is inspired by a recent trip to the Brasilian countryside and one of the novels that kept me company there.
But first, a short note to you, dear reader. Thanks for being here. Please, make yourself at home – leave a comment, send me a message, and if you like Postcards from Jodi why not share it?
Until next time. Blessings and beijos do Rio,
~ Jodi
PS. I’m participating in a workshop series, Substack Grow, and have been enamoured with the community of wonderful, independent writers here. If you like personal storytelling anchored in low-key book reviews, check out one of my new faves: Survival by Book. I also loved The Existentialism of Tiny People by Sneaky Art.
Bouncing in on the crunchy dirt road, you can see three, no four, men chatting amongst themselves. The rakes resting on their shoulders create a beautiful slope of wonder down into the toiled ground where they work. Eight generations and counting, along with a constellation of accolades and awards, this farm clocks not only history, but progress too.
I step out of the vehicle.
Whether it was intentional or not, as they raked coffee berries back and forth, edging them into little laneways fit for toy cars, the farmers turned time into something of a meditation. At the end of a row, they’d shake off their rake to pause and rest on its sturdy height before turning around and doing it all over again.
“Every day, like this,” my partner says.
I nod, not wanting to interrupt the soothing symphony of a well-crafted routine.
Predictability plays a fickle role in life. Too much can easily demoralize and uninspire us. Too little, though, and we start to feel jostled around – lost – like loose change in a misplaced bag.
Over the years, I’ve personally found a sense of what’s to come and my role in it increasingly comforting. There’s a certain kind of peace that comes along with a sense of security and obligation. This peace can even start to feel like freedom as Rachel Cusk in her beautiful novel, Second Place, nuances:
“Least of all did I understand what freedom was and how I could attain it. I thought it was a mere unbuttoning, a release, where in fact – as you know well – it is the dividend yielded by an unrelenting obedience to and mastery of the laws of creation. The rigorously trained fingers of the concert pianist are freer than the enslaved heart of the music lover can ever be. I suppose this explains why great artists can be such dreadful and disappointing people. Life rarely offers sufficient time or opportunity to be free in more than one way.”
If this is true, it makes sense that part of me was rushing towards a sentimental admiration of the farmers’ routine.
Back in the car and on our way to the next coffee farm, I considered my own need for routine relative to adventure. Just how much meaning I find in both - in mastering monotony and indulging in the unknown. It is the undulating cadence between the two, for me, where I feel most alive. Maybe even happy. I write this down in my journal, and think it might just help with an essay post later: “Between leisure and purpose, there’s happiness.”
I appreciate your excellent work as a writer. I loved all the photos. 🥰🤩