“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.”
— The Prophet, Khalil Gibran
This quote was something I grabbed onto during the very hard months following the death of my sweet cat Moose back in September. I was due to be married that December, trying to pull together a wedding in the depths of my most unimaginable sorrow. On top of it I had also lost my job suddenly and quite unexpectedly. As I pieced myself back together, trying to muster something from the rubble of the life I once knew, I clung to the wisdom of songs and poetry to carry me through.
Now I’m confronted with these words again, as I attempt to comfort my sister-in-law who has just lost her dear cat, feeling the same sorrow I am all too familiar with. I rack my brain to think of what gesture would honor Margo’s life and would be any consolation to all the things she must be feeling. I think back to what I would have wanted when I went through the same thing, yet my mind turns a blank.
In the depths of such sadness and despair, there is only love. It takes time and patience to heal wounds such as these and the only thing to ease the pain along the way is love. There is no gift or gesture that will make it all go away. The heart is raw with grief, the body struggles to function as normal, even the simplest of acts like breathing it seems to momentarily forget.
So, I shared with her a song that came to me one day, on the cusp of healing and simultaneously holding guilt for feeling like I had healed too soon. It was Singin’ in the Rain by John Martyn. His version specifically, spoke to me. I burst into tears as the light shone in my living room window as he sang the words,
I'm singin' in the rain, just singin' in the rain
What a glorious feeling I'm happy again
I'm laughing at clouds so dark up above
The sun's in my heart and I'm ready for love
Let the stormy clouds chase everyone from the place
Come on with the rain, I've a smile on my face
I'll walk down the lane with a happy refrain
And singin' just singin' in the rain
With a shaking voice, I replayed the song and sang along as tears streamed down my cheeks. Singing in the rain, smiling through the pain. These words were my medicine. The words of others who had experienced what I had, in one way or another. Perhaps they hadn’t lost their cat, but they had certainly held joy and sorrow in the palm of one hand and overcome suffering through song and self expression. Laughing at the dark clouds, inviting the rain with a smile.
I attempted to share my own version of these sentiments with my sister-in-law to help ease her pain. To share what glimmers of wisdom I had learned from walking through that fire. How the depth of the pain we feel is a reflection of how deep our love was. That without those depths, our capacity to love would be much smaller. That when we open ourselves to all the feelings and experiences, both good and bad, that life hands us, we should take it all as a gift. The opportunity to whittle our capacity for love and joy a bit deeper each time.
Just as our resistance for pain grows as we overcome hard things, the empty space we’re left with as the pain leaves us is waiting to be filled up again with joy.
The paradox of feeling two things at once. Of healing and grieving and attempting to live with them both coursing through your veins. Being gentle with yourself and surrendering to what washes over you, trusting that it’s all part of this process and that you’ll come out the other side completely renewed with a new perspective. A beautiful cycle.
The most beautiful part to me is the gift of sharing our words. Those who have gone before us and left little breadcrumbs to help ease our passage. I am so grateful to those who have shared words to describe these moments and feelings we often experience in life and for my ability to pass them along to another.
Rest in peace, sweet Margo.
How much sweeter the joy is that touches those parts of our soul rising from the ashes of grief.
Such a sweet testament to love and the offering of hope to others so they too can find joy again.🥹