I was ready to be done yesterday.
It’s been an odd year, the biggest highs and lows of my entire life:
I got engaged.
One of my closest friends, who was to be a bridesmaid in my wedding, was murdered. Her funeral was the day that was planned to be my wedding shower that she was hosting with my mom.
One of my dear friends found out her mother has a brain tumor.
My mother is losing her house.
I will be married to the most amazing man in less than a month.
My grandfather loved Kahlil Gibran and I grew up reading pieces of The Prophet. My favorite chapter has always been “On Joy and Sorrow”. This year has been the absolute embodiment of those words, so that is what I’ll leave you with.
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 your 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 thar 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.
