33 – On Joy And Sorrow

12/9/21

My favorite poem is “On Joy And Sorrow” by Kahlil Gibran. I won’t share the whole thing here – although you most certainly should read it in its entirety. At least a few times.

My favorite lines read, “And how else can it be? The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.”

Further along, Gibran pens, “Together they come, and when one sits alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.”

And sometimes, with words, it happens that you find a piece of work that belongs to someone else, and it hits on something, it exactly precisely perfectly conveys an idea that you’ve been tinkering with for years. What else can you do but treasure it? Glean from it? Clutch it close to your chest?

I’ve tried to find the right words.

I'm in this heartbreak.
And the next.
And the next.
Here's hoping I get a next.

How many times?
How many times
will you somehow someway
float up to cloud nine,
how many times will you inevitably tumble
from the sky
only to scrape your heart
on the pavement?

I'll talk about heartbreak
because I know it
like I know the freckles across my cheekbones.
I'll talk about heartbreak
because I've known it in fullness
in a single moment.
I'll talk about heartbreak
because who would I be without it?

They’re hitting at something. They’re honest, they’re me. I cannot, would not complain. But Gibran?

“Verily you are suspended like scales between your sorrow and your joy.” 

Higher heights embolden deeper depths. I believe with everything in me that it’s truth. I’ll hold tightly to the idea that no pain is wasted, that my laugh lines and tears are one and the same, that the inclination of my gaze is not fixed. Verily, I am suspended. I’m grateful for sorrow. I’m grateful for joy. They are inseparable.

Lightly,
Leah