“Sorrow prepares you for joy. It violently sweeps everything out of your house, so that new joy can find space to enter. It shakes the yellow leaves from the bough of your heart, so that fresh, green leaves can grow in their place. It pulls up the rotten roots, so that new roots hidden beneath have room to grow. Whatever sorrow shakes from your heart, far better things will take their place.”
― Rumi
It is true. When I am outside, I pay attention. On an afternoon run last week, I caught a crowd of blood-orange tinged flowers on my pathway. The vibrant colors begged for my focus and for those seconds, my eyes gazed at the beauty and the brokenness of what I witnessed. I looked at the petals and noticed what appeared around this gathering – buds that didn’t have a chance to experience a similar glory because of the scorching sun. An apt metaphor, I thought, of a theme I’ve mentioned over and over again, happiness with edges of sorrow.
I often think about how to reconcile these diametrically opposite emotions and how they fit in the larger picture of the landscape of my life. In one moment, I sink into what is in front of me, the raucous laughter of my daughter, engaging conversation with a group of friends or a tender hug from my husband. These are the shades of happiness, I think. And so much of it, if I seek it, but I admit, there are times I’ve ignored the goodness that pleads with me to alter my perspective. Last week, I resisted. I complained about situations and people in which I recognize I have no control – I heard my words at one point – and acknowledged every single thing I said harbored a resentment, a what isn’t, instead of what is approach, and gut-churning negativity. Irritation mounted and I unleashed on my family and unexpectedly, tears started streaming down my face. Sometimes it isn’t easy to turn toward gratitude. Instead, the sorrow outpaces the happiness.
Self-pity is dangerous and sometimes wallowing in it is a way to claim it. I did just that. I gave myself a few hours to acknowledge my sadness, but decided, almost in a quick instant to look at the beauty again. I went for a run, had dinner with my family, worked on a freelancing assignment and read a few chapters in my book. I journaled about what bubbled as my pen hit the page. The next morning, I lamented the hours I wasted and committed to let the cracks show me the light.
I’ve said it before. It is acceptable to honor those moments when everything seems out-of-place. I’ve always believed, to be swallowed by any emotion requires you to acknowledge the spectrum of every feeling, even the seconds that make you feel uncomfortable and gnaw at you piece by piece. But it is equally important to move forward, even if it is as simple as taking a walk, bonding over ice cream with your family or taking a look at what is happening in the world.
There is beauty and brokenness. A shuffling between the two, every single day. And maybe that is the way to honor our moments with honesty.
Welcome! I am a lawyer turned freelance writer, essayist, and editor. On staff at Literary Mama and the co-founder and co-editor of the literary journal, The Sunlight Press, my essays and reported work have appeared in The Washington Post, The Lily, Saveur, Civil Eats, Brain, Child, ESPN and elsewhere. I am currently at work on a memoir on grief and culture and how it provides perspective on life’s ordinary graces. I invite you to appreciate the ordinary with me. I hope my daily practice of seeing the magic in the mundane helps you celebrate and find more of these moments in your life too.
Yes, spot on: “There is beauty and brokenness. A shuffling between the two, every single day. And maybe that is the way to honor our moments with honesty.”
Thanks, Nina. xo
This is so perfect, Rudri. Yes. I agree with and relate to every word. Sometimes the aggravation outpaces gratitude for me, and alongside that emotion comes guilt, too. I need to find a way to get out fro under that.
Me too, Lindsey. It helps to know that I am not the only one struggling in this battle. xo
Simply beautiful, Rudri. I particularly loved “happiness with edges of sorrow”. So much truth in that.
Thank you so much, Joy. xo
I love your writings and always look forward to your posts.What you said today is still relevant to me though I am much older than you.
I am grateful to hear these words resonated with you, Abha. Much gratitude for you for reading and letting me know. Thank you.
It’s important to acknowledge our feelings and allow it to flow through. If we don’t it get stuck in us. Acknowledging my feeling helps them pass through me so I can move on. I also often find it a growth opportunity if I explore the “whys within”. Beauty and brokenness, you write it so beautifully, Rudri.
Thanks, Susan. I’ve reflected a great deal on these two subjects and am always struck by how instantaneously we can move from one emotion to the other, sometimes with or without any warning. I think our ability to adapt shows our resilience.
This title caught my attention but the writing is so beautiful and so very true. This line: “happiness with edges of sorrow.” Too often lately I’ve fallen into the trap of self-pity. But I agree we need to move on as well as allow ourselves to acknowledge our sadness.
Aww, Sarah, thanks. Always lovely to see you in my space.
I think moving forward means putting some distance between ourselves and the sadness. In those in-between spaces, our reflections help push us to experience unexpected beauty and sometimes even more brokenness. xo
What a beautiful and honest post. Someone recently told me that I shouldn’t try to camoflauge my pain instead I should feel it for awhile. I have tried to embrace this although acknowledge this is a hard one for me. I am really good at giving this same advise to others though!
Sinking into the pain is its own balm. I struggle with it too, but I think ignoring or wishing it away only makes the angst deeper when it returns. It’s all a process – please be gentle with yourself. Thanks for taking the time to reach out to let me know how much the piece resonated with you.
Beauty and brokenness. So much. Beauty IN brokenness too, and brokenness in beauty.
I’ve been having a rough week – I hope I get the chance to write it out the way you do.
I hope you’ve experienced more beauty (than brokenness) in your life since I wrote this post. xo
Our life is filled with both…. I have struggled to honor it all. A beautiful post, Rudri. Xox
Yes. It is difficult on certain days. The tumult sometimes is hard to reconcile. xo