One of the many gifts I’ve received from sobriety is recognizing the distortion of my all or nothing thinking. So much of what is revealed as true for me is beyond what I can express rationally … one is too many and a thousand not enough … we keep it by giving it away. There is a well known and loved story from the 2nd edition that contains four paradoxes you might find interesting and powerful.
This poem (and the commentary that follows it) reminds me of the phrase on page 106 of the Twelve & Twelve …”life is not be endured or mastered”. Bill W allows us to characterize what lies beyond those destinations. For me, right now at least, I would say it’s to be more fully participated in moment by moment.
I think this poem and the commentary I’m sharing can help us see how hospitality to whatever emotion comes our way is so fundamental to this fullness. It’s also been true for me that in the most tragic of what I’ve experienced there have been hidden joys which were revealed. The truth from the PBS children’s pioneer Mr. Roger’s mother that he shares below with us …
“My mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.’ To this day, especially in times of disaster, I remember my mother’s words, and I am always comforted by realizing that there are still so many helpers — so many caring people in this world.” Mr. Rogers
And we have magnifying minds … what we magnify grows … so, in the reality of what is most tragic; we often see spontaneous reminders of what unconditioned love and compassion look like. I’ve added this to the Recovery Poem section of the website. – Bruce M.
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 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 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.
Feiwu Ling Poem Commentary
Gibran introduces joy and sorrow not as opposites, but as two notes of the same divine music. At once, we are pulled into deep truth. What we call joy is not separate from our sorrow — it is born from the same well. When you weep, it is for something you once rejoiced in. When you rejoice, it is often from a space once hollowed by pain.
Gibran shows us the interdependence of emotion. The deeper your sorrow has carved your being, the more joy you can contain. He invites us to see emotion as a sacred container. Joy does not erase sorrow — it grows from it. To feel deeply is to be hollowed, to be shaped into something that can receive. Like a cup, or a lute, we are crafted by pain so we may hold and play the music of joy. There is no shame in sorrow — it is the chisel of the soul.
Grief is love that has lost its object. We cry because we cared. We rejoice because we once grieved. And so, the heart becomes a sacred book
where every joy and sorrow are chapters of the same story.
He ends the debate. There is no hierarchy between emotions. Joy and sorrow are not rivals. They are partners — dancing, blending, teaching.
You cannot invite one without the other. When joy is present, sorrow sleeps nearby. When sorrow visits, joy is never far. Life is not about choosing one and avoiding the other. It is about honouring both, as guests in your soul’s home.
In summary, Gibran reminds us that to fully live, we must allow ourselves to be shaped, opened, and moved. To fear sorrow is to also fear joy. To embrace one is to welcome the other.