Tears to Triumph

by Marianne Williamson

  Dedication

  In memory of Richard

  Epigraph

  Someday, emerging at last from the violent insight,

  let me sing out jubilation and praise to assenting angels.

  Let not even one of the clearly-struck hammers of my heart

  fail to sound because of a slack, a doubtful,

  or a broken string. Let my joyfully streaming face

  make me more radiant; let my hidden weeping arise

  and blossom. How dear you will be to me then, you nights

  of anguish. Why didn’t I kneel more deeply to accept you,

  inconsolable sisters, and, surrendering, lose myself

  in your loosened hair. How we squander our hours of pain.

  How we gaze beyond them into the bitter duration

  to see if they have an end. Though they are really

  our winter-enduring foliage, our dark evergreen,

  one season in our inner year–, not only a season

  in time–, but are place and settlement, foundation and soil and home.

  —FROM THE TENTH ELEGY, FROM RAINER MARIA RILKE’S “DUINO ELEGIES,” TRANSLATION BY STEPHEN MITCHELL

  Contents

  DEDICATION

  EPIGRAPH

  PREFACE

  ONE: Surrendering Our Sorrow

  TWO: Through the Darkness into the Light

  THREE: The Case Against Numbness

  FOUR: The Miraculous Universe

  FIVE: A Culture of Depression

  SIX: Forgiveness

  SEVEN: Relationship Heaven, Relationship Hell

  EIGHT: Changing Ourselves, Changing the World

  NINE: The Light of Buddha

  TEN: The Light of Moses

  ELEVEN: The Light of Jesus

  TWELVE: Tears to Triumph

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  ALSO BY MARIANNE WILLIAMSON

  COPYRIGHT

  ABOUT THE PUBLISHER

  Preface

  We all face times in our lives when the pain of existence seems too much to bear. For some of us, these experiences happen rarely, and when they do, the pain is relatively mild. But for others of us, excruciating pain can weigh us down and make the slightest comfort difficult to achieve. Deeper and deeper we fall into the well of our own tears, into a darkness that seems to have no bottom. We wonder where all this suffering comes from. And we wonder whether it will ever end.

  If you, or someone you love, are living through one of those times—feeling that to take another breath, even to live another day, seems hard to contemplate—then I’m glad that you are reading this book. You may find here some pieces of the puzzle you have not yet explored. A mystery. Perhaps a miracle.

  This doesn’t mean that you won’t have to make any effort. It doesn’t mean that you won’t have work to do on your own behalf. Miracles aren’t a quick fix, or an easy answer. But they activate a spiritual power divinely authorized to help you. God is here, even here, in the midst of your suffering. And as you reach out to Him, He will reach back.

  Consider the possibility now that anything could happen. I’m not asking you to believe this, but only to consider that it might be true. Simply thinking this thought—that miracles are possible—does more to pave the way for your healing than you can imagine. It opens the door to a realm of infinite possibilities, regardless of what you have been through or what you are going through now.

  The pain you are going through is not what will determine your future; your future will be determined by who you are as you go through your pain. This is not to question the depth of your suffering. Within the mortal world, it is certainly real. But the reality in which you are ensnared is not itself what it appears to be, nor are you yourself quite the being you feel you are now. We can expand the definition of who you are, as well as what the world is—and your life will begin to change. Your human self might be in hell right now, but your divine self is literally untouched by your suffering. And your divine self is who you are.

  Your subconscious mind is aware of your larger reality and will assume the role of showing it to you when you are ready for it to do so. This process will be one of the great journeys of your life, as you will see things you haven’t seen and know things you haven’t known. Your tears, your hopelessness, your fear, your anger, your guilt, your resentment, your remorse, your terror—none of these will be papered over or denied. You will not dissolve them by keeping them in the dark, but by exposing them to the light. And as you do, you will see beyond them such magnificence—in yourself and in the world—that you will actually bless the journey of your suffering, for it led you to yourself and to the meaning of your life. Spiritual healing doesn’t lie in denying your pain, but in feeling it fully and surrendering it to God.

  And then the miracles begin . . .

  This book is a spiritual reflection on human suffering, both its cause and its transcendence. Spirituality is not some pale-pink, gauzy, psychologically unsophisticated understanding of the world. Rather, it represents the most profound elucidation of how the mind operates and how it filters our experience. It recognizes the extraordinary depth of our most fundamental yearning—our yearning for love—and the extraordinary pain that we feel when we don’t find it.

  There is an epidemic of depression in our world today, and a myriad of options for how to treat it. Just as there are natural remedies for disease within the body, there are natural remedies for disease within the mind. And by a “natural remedy” for depression I do not mean herbs or homeopathic remedies; I mean the practical application of love and forgiveness as a medicine for the soul.

  As a society, we invite depression by trivializing love. We have sold our souls for a mess of pottage. Human existence is not just a random episode, with no higher purpose than that all of us should get what we want. Seen that way, with no overlay of spirit, our lives seem to have no ultimate meaning. And the soul craves meaning the way the body craves oxygen. In the absence of a spiritual framework, we know the mechanics of life but stop short of understanding it. Failing to understand life, we misuse it. And misusing it, we cause suffering—for ourselves and for others.

  Every great religious and spiritual philosophy speaks to the issue of human suffering. This book only touches the surface of the spiritual depth of insight available in the great religious and spiritual teachings of the world, but hopefully it gets to a point often obscured behind veils of dogma and misunderstanding.

  For instance: Buddha’s spiritual journey began when he saw suffering for the first time; Moses was moved by the suffering of the Israelites; and Jesus suffered on the cross. But the point is not simply that Buddha saw suffering; the point is that he transcended it through his enlightenment. The point is not simply that the Israelites were enslaved; the point is that they were rescued and led to the Promised Land. The point is not simply that Jesus was crucified; the point is that he was resurrected. Human suffering was only the first part of an equation; what matters most is what happened after God showed His hand.

  We too are suffering and observe suffering all around us; we too are enslaved by an internal pharaoh; and we too are dying on the cross of the world’s cruelty and lack of reverence. Whether it occurred thousands of years ago or is occurring today, suffering is suffering, oppression is oppression, and cruelty is cruelty. These things are not ancient realities that don’t exist anymore. They’re not gone.

  And neither is God’s power to eradicate them. Spirit enlightened Buddha; Spirit delivered the Israelites; and Spirit resurrected Jesus. If we know our suffering is the same as theirs, it makes sense to seek a deeper understanding of their deliverance, that we might more easily invoke our own. How arrogant we are, and how blind, to think that our suffering is the same as it
’s always been, yet somehow we’ve improved on ways to deal with it. Are any of us under the impression that Buddha could have transcended suffering by making more money, getting a better job, or buying a better car? Or that the Israelites could have escaped slavery if they’d had another round of negotiations with Pharaoh or a private jet to take them to the Promised Land? Or that Jesus could have risen from the dead if only cryonics had been around then?

  Humanity, over the past few hundred years, has lessened the incidence of some forms of suffering and increased the incidence of others. We’ve diminished the threat of polio, but increased the threat of nuclear disaster. We’ve diminished the dangers of travel, but increased the chances that our entire ecosystem will implode. And if we think we don’t do “rape and pillage” anymore, take a look at what’s going on around the world.

  There is no worldly solution to the suffering, or self-destructiveness, of humanity today that can compare to the solutions offered by the great religions and spiritual philosophies of the world. Which is exactly why the ego mind has sought to co-opt them for its purposes. It has turned the power of peace into the power of the sword, both within the world and within our hearts.

  Today’s search for spiritual sustenance is not confined to a particular teaching. There is no right or wrong when it comes to Buddhism, or Judaism, or Christianity, or Islam, or Hinduism. They are all kaleidoscopic facets of one essential diamond. Whether we relate personally to the story of Buddha, Moses, Jesus, Mohammed, or Krishna; whether we understand truth more deeply when it is expressed by Carl Jung, Joseph Campbell, or A Course in Miracles; the essential themes at the heart of all these teachings are universal. They apply to all people, and most significantly, to all times.

  The great religious figures and teachings of the world are God’s gifts, a divine hand reaching down to touch the minds of those who are called to them. While the ego uses the outer aspects of these teachings to divide us—sometimes even as justification to destroy one another—their inner truths unite us by teaching us how to live with each other. On an internal level, the great religions of the world have always led to miracles. On an external level, they have as often led to violence and destruction. That must change, and will change, as more people come to recognize the mystical truths, the inner gold, that lie within them all. The greatest opportunity for humanity’s survival in the twenty-first century lies not in widening our external horizons, but in deepening our internal ones. That applies to us personally, and it applies to us collectively.

  And we will be sad until we do. Our bodies, our relationships, our careers, our politics, will continue to be sources of suffering when they should rather be sources of joy. Hidden within all great spiritual teachings is the key to turning that around. Once we find the key, and turn the key, we are amazed by what lies hidden behind the door that’s been locked to God. We’re not without hope; we just haven’t been seeing it. We’re not without power; we just haven’t been claiming it. We’re not without love; we just haven’t been living it.

  Seeing these things, our lives begin to change. Our minds are awakened. Miracles happen. And at last our hearts are glad.

  ONE

  Surrendering Our Sorrow

  All of us yearn for happiness and love, and sometimes we find it. Yet most of us are visited at some point by sorrow as well. A relationship, a job, a particular circumstance brought us happiness—but then something went wrong. At other times, we can’t put our finger on why, but we feel no happiness and we feel no love.

  Life, in fact, is not always easy, and dwelling gracefully within the space of deep sorrow can be very hard. Emotional torment, overwhelming grief, physical agony, screams from the very depths of our souls—why is such suffering a part of our experience? What does it mean? And how can we survive it and even transcend it?

  A spiritual worldview does not skirt such questions; rather, it responds to them. In fact, these questions are at the heart of all great religious teachings, ranging from Buddha’s first encounter with suffering when he left his father’s royal compound, to the suffering of the Israelites when they were slaves under Pharaoh and when they wandered through the desert, to Jesus’s suffering on the cross. The universal spiritual truths at the core of great religious teachings are a balm for the heart sent straight from the Mind of God.

  Ironically, these truths are often more obscured than revealed by organized religion, concealing the extraordinary powers of comfort and inspiration they are meant to provide. This book seeks to reveal those principles, for they are coded messages pointing not only to the source of our suffering, but also to its healing.

  Healing the heart is in fact God’s specialty. Spirit reorders our thinking upon our request, in so doing bringing peace to our hearts. Inner peace does not emerge from an intellectual shift, but from a spiritual process that affects both body and soul. This shift is produced by a divine intercession that is far from metaphorical, as we align our thoughts with those of God.

  Theology alone does not bring comfort. But spiritual principles, when practically applied, are gateways to inner peace. This book is about turning these principles into an alchemical brew of personal transformation, using the insights of great religious truths to assuage the pain that is a part of being human.

  Simply waking up in the morning and going through the daily routines of a normal existence can be emotionally or even physically burdensome. Excruciating pain can weigh upon the heart for months or even years, obliterating all joy and making the slightest comforts impossible. Traumatic memories can cut the psyche like razors. Suffering can overwhelm all else, and even if we think there is a God, He can seem at such moments like He is very far away.

  But God is never far away, because God is in our minds. We are free to think whatever we wish to think. The door to emotional deliverance is primarily a mental one. By aligning our thoughts with His thoughts, we can awaken to Him in the midst of our suffering. We can find Him in the midst of our darkness. And we can walk with Him into the light that lies beyond. The universe is wired for God’s light the way a house is wired for electricity, and every mind is like a lamp. But a lamp must be plugged in for it to shed any light. With every prayer, we plug in to the light. With every realization of our mistakes and willingness to atone for them, we plug in to the light. With every apology we give and receive, we plug in to the light. With every act of forgiveness, we plug in to the light. With every five minutes of meditation, we plug in to the light. With every thought of mercy, we plug in to the light. With every moment of faith, we plug in to the light.

  The search for God is a search for light, and outside that light we are sorrowful indeed. Within it, we are healed and made whole.

  FALLING INTO A DEEP, DARK VALLEY

  I know something about suffering, as twice I’ve been diagnosed as clinically depressed. I’ve also experienced personal tragedy and the deaths of loved ones. I’ve suffered through devastating betrayals and disappointments. I’ve felt on more than one occasion that I had lost any chance of happiness I might have ever had. I’ve been up close and personal with suffering, not only in my own life, but also in the lives of many others in the course of my career. Nothing gives you x-ray vision into the suffering of others like having suffered yourself. I know the face of depression and I know it well.

  As someone who has always viewed things through a mystical lens—even before I really understood what that meant—I’ve always seen events in my life in the context of a spiritual journey. I’ve viewed painful times in my life as part of a mysterious unfolding, as dark nights of my soul for which, no matter how devastating, I needed to be fully present. However deep my suffering, I didn’t want to be anesthetized as I went through it. Like an expectant mother who wants to give birth naturally, rejecting drugs during labor because she wants to experience “natural childbirth,” I wanted to be fully available to the depths of my pain. Why? Because I knew it had something to teach me. I knew that somehow, in some way, my suffering would lead to a blazin
g new dawn in my life—but only if I was willing to endure the deep, dark night preceding it.

  None of this is to romanticize suffering. Sleepless nights, obsessive thoughts, extreme mental and emotional pain are nothing to view lightly. But my journeys through deep sadness have ultimately shown me as much about light as they have about darkness—for in coming to understand my suffering, I’ve come to understand myself more deeply. On the other side of my suffering, I’ve seen things that I wouldn’t have seen otherwise. I’ve seen ways I have contributed to my own disasters. I’ve seen that love isn’t a game and that it should be taken seriously. I’ve seen that other people’s feelings are as important as my own. I’ve seen that external things are not what matter. I’ve seen that life lived with any purpose but love is a life that will lead to sorrow. I’ve seen that love is more powerful than evil. I’ve seen that nothing but the love of God can be guaranteed. And I’ve seen that life does indeed go on.

  Regret, remorse, humiliation, physical pain, grief, failure, loss—all of these can be excruciating. Yet as difficult as they can be to endure, they can also pave the way at times to illumination: conscience, forgiveness, humility, contrition, appreciation, gratitude, and faith. Sometimes we end up looking back on times of deep emotional pain as having been the crucibles out of which emerged the truth of who we are.

  I’ve learned a lot from the midnight blues, as agonizing as they can be. It is often during sleepless nights that we come face-to-face with monsters too easily shooed away during daylight hours, carrying with them not only sorrow but information. That which is difficult is not always that which is bad. We might see something that needs to change within us, what we need to atone for, how our character defects or neurotic patterns are ruining our lives, what trespasses we need to forgive, and what amends we need to make. We might at last come clean with God, asking His help in forgiving ourselves, and then realize His mercy as we pray for another chance to get things right. We might grieve loved ones we lost, and finally come to feel the eternal bond that keeps us one with them forever. On such nights we often cry tears that we simply need to cry.