JOURNAL
A Happy Man at Last
Some time ago, I needed to scan through old magazine articles on my life and career. One of these articles was titled “Expert in Pain and Suffering,” and this gave me pause.
Am I really a specialist in suffering? It’s true that I have devoted the greater part of my life to learning about pain and suffering, but do I really wish for my name to be associated with the agony of life?
Admittedly, my works seem to have a distinguishing feature.
When glancing through the books I have written, I notice that each deals with weakness in one way or another. Should I ever need to condense my works into one sentence, it could read: “True strength can be found only through facing weakness.”
IN OTHER WORDS, I am familiar with and educated in the subjects of pain and suffering—to the point that these may even have become my trademark of sorts.
Because of my background, pain and suffering have long been close personal friends of mine. I grew up in an alcoholic family, and I learned to hide my feelings of grief, fear, and abandonment deep in the core of my being. I hid these feelings from others, but also from myself, and this became a habit for life.
I was determined to become so successful and prosperous that I would reach a triumphant state of invulnerability, and weakness could no longer reach me. And strong I became, but my strength was based on a denial of weakness.
FORTUNATELY, life has its little ways of making us stop.
Gradually I began to understand that I couldn’t escape from my feelings and deny my weakness without abandoning my true self at the same time. In a mysterious way, my weakness seemed to be connected with my authentic self. I realized that if I wanted to learn to know myself better, I needed to look inward and face the truth within.
Since this realization, I have made facing this weakness my mission in life. I have made a conscious decision to be open and receptive to whatever this weakness wants to tell me. I am no longer afraid of the truth, even though it often hurts. It is fair to say that facing the truth about myself has become a way of life.
HAS ALL THIS paid off, then? Have I been able to overcome pain and suffering, or have I trapped myself in these trademark feelings of mine?
My late wife once mentioned that I am one of those people who are always in a good mood, who always seem happy. I was astounded, because I had never thought this of myself.
I must admit, however, that lately I have often found myself feeling surprisingly happy, and sometimes my eyes tear up simply because I feel so grateful, grateful for being alive. I feel very much at home on this globe. I love this time called life, including the rough spots.
WHERE DID THIS happiness come from? Why is this expert in pain and suffering suddenly so carefree, untroubled, and lighthearted?
This happiness comes from facing and acknowledging weakness, from stopping and looking inward into the frightening darkness and helplessness—for pain and suffering hide a wonderful secret, the greatest treasure of life.
Personal growth is not about becoming a better person; it is about gaining a deeper understanding of our smallness and powerlessness.
TRUE GREATNESS is hidden in smallness, strength in weakness, richness in poverty. We can grow only to the extent that we are willing to acknowledge our weakness, but through our weakness we find our deepest need: our need to be loved and supported, our need to be part of a whole greater than ourself.
And therein lies our deepest identity: not until we are loved can we learn who we really are.