Kahlil Gibran: On Joy and Sorrow
Today is Day 3 (or Day 2, depending on whether I should trust the temple back home or the Internet) of Navaratri. These nine days and nights commemorate the slaying of a demon, Mahishasuran, by Durga, a manifestation of Shakti, the feminine form of the Divine. For nine days and nine nights she battles him and on the tenth day, she emerges victorious. It’s a festival that’s dear to me because it celebrates the strong, brave and courageous aspects of the feminine form. And it’s a time meant for us to retreat from the illusions of the world and work on slaying our own inner demons.
This Navaratri, I’ve been working on a couple of inner demons that need slaying – we all have them, of course – and I’ve been fortunate enough to stumble upon an old copy of Kahlil Gibran’s The Prophet in my room. I had read The Prophet before but something drew me towards this book on Monday night, and I haven’t been able to put it down or stop poring over its lines since. Gibran was born in Lebanon, but migrated to America at the age of 12. His essays in The Prophet have an Ecclesiastical cadence yet are simple in the ideas they convey, making them particularly lovely.
I thought I’d share a few extracts that I found especially soothing and helpful to me this Navaratri season, and hope that you guys might find relevant as well.
The Prophet
Then a woman said, Speak to us of Joy and Sorrow.
And he answered:
Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.
And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.
And how else can it be?
The deeper that sorrow carves into being, the more joy you can contain.
Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter’s oven?
And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives?
When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.
When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.Some of you say, “Joy is greater than sorrow,” and others say, “Nay, sorrow is the greater.”
But I say unto you, they are inseparable.
Together they come, and when one sits alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.Verily you are suspended like scales between your sorrow and your joy.
Only when you are empty are you at standstill and balanced.
When the treasure-keeper lifts you to weigh his gold and his silver, needs must your joy or your sorrow rise or fall.
