Whenever I offer a talk, I cherish the opportunity for interaction and conversation.
Usually this means some kind of Q&A with the audience as a whole, the more boisterous and free-spirited the better.
Recently, however, after speaking at a graduation, one of the graduates approached me after the formal event was over.
“What would you say to someone,” he asked me privately, “going through a low point in their life? What advice might you have for them?”
Perhaps it was him who was going through such a moment, or perhaps it was someone he loved. Either way, it moved me that he trusted me with such a meaningful and vulnerable question.
Here are the two things that occurred to me to say, drawing from my own experience of such times.
Things Change
The first thing that came to me is my own experience of how part of the difficulty of a difficult moment is the feeling or belief that things will always be that way. When I’ve been depressed, I’ve had great difficulty believing I would ever not be depressed again.
But when I’ve found ways to remind myself that this isn’t actually true, that a time will come when I’ll be able to look back upon this one, I’ve been able to find the strength to endure whatever it is I’m enduring.
Here’s how Irene Otis, a tile artist on the island where I live, depicts her own understanding of this truth:
Even Hard Times Contain Treasures
The second thing that came to me was that even a difficult time can contain great gifts and treasures. When we’re able to hold on, we’ll be able to look back and see how it taught us something essential, something we’re glad to know.
By that point, others had gathered around us and the two things I said seemed to have offered him enough.
If we’d had more time, however, I would have wanted to share an example.
One of my own darkest moments came shortly after I finished graduate school and realized that a writing project I’d been working on for years had turned out poorly, nowhere near what I’d hoped or envisioned for it.
I felt crushed and deeply uncertain what to do next or even whether to continue writing.
But while traveling home, in the middle of an ugly crowded airport, of all places, I suddenly remembered that I loved the world. I loved the world no matter if I wrote about it or not.
Outside the window I could see the sky, beyond the metal girders and the streams of harried passengers, and I knew that this knowing went far beyond anything I might do or not do.
And although it took me several more months to recover my bearings, I’m grateful for what that difficult moment taught me: I’m not what I write. Whatever I might say or not say, there is a far greater and more beautiful reality that I’m part of simply because I am.
Keep A Song In Your Heart
There’s one more thing I wish I had said, because I hadn’t said anything about how a person actually holds on through a difficult time to see it to the end and to be able to look back and learn from it.
This third thing is something I learned from Dr. Raymond Wise, a fourth-generation gospel artist and choir director. During my years in graduate school, in Columbus, Ohio, I sang in his choir, studied gospel piano with him, and studied the history of African-American gospel music.
Dr. Raymond Wise
In every concert he conducted, he shared his fundamental belief about the power of music: No matter what you’re going through, if you can keep a song in your heart, you’ll be all right.
That’s been true for me, with different songs at different times, including songs I didn’t even understand at first. When I was more or less the same age as the young man I spoke with, for instance, I heard a Slavic Folk Song called Prïtoutïtze Planinata, or the Song from the Thracian Plain. It was part of the soundtrack for the movie Jesus of Montreal, and the first time I heard it, I was mesmerized. To this day, I only have to hear it in my mind to recover a sense of peace and of the presence of the sacred.
I didn’t get to share this part of things with the student at the reception, but I’m glad to be able to share them with you.
And perhaps in some way my own experience of that truth may have nonetheless been present in what I did say. For that is how such truths work on and in our hearts: they are there in everything we do, whether or not we always know it.
What Keeps You Going?
I’m curious how you might have answered this question. What keeps you going through difficult times?
We can never take too much care with questions like these, for we answer them with the very way we live.
If you have a moment, I’d love to hear your thoughts.
Warmly,
Thomas
PS. A few years back I recorded a conversation with Dr. Raymond Wise about spirit, purpose, and the inner sources of strength as reflected in the Kural. If you’re curious, you can watch the recording here.
PPS. I’m going to be speaking at the Annual Convention of the Federation of Tamil Sangams of North America in New Jersey, July 2-4. If you’re in the area or are planning to attend, I’d love to meet you in person!
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