The Healing Power of Joy
By Gita Saraydarian
As summer moves us to slow down a bit from the rush of life, the inner work of joy seems to be a natural process to consider. I have learned much in the last 26 years of my work and the pivotal work that I have done concerns joy.
I learned early on that no one could take your joy away from you if you know how to connect to the source of inner joy. Life has many ups and downs. If you lack the inner connection, you will be thrown around and battered by the waves of life. You end up feeling victimized and deeply wounded. There is a way out and the secret is in finding the Fountain of inner joy. Once we know how to tap into this, our life will never lack that special wisdom no matter what happens.
Torkom Saraydarian was a very joyful man despite the fact that he and his family survived many hardships related to the Armenian Genocide and the displacement of the family that followed. No matter what happened in his life, he still had a way to find joy and relate with people in joy. He refused to be victimized by the circumstances of life. He always said that if it were not for the joy he found within his inner being, he would not survive the many challenges in his life. He credited his inner joy to his own Father.
From his humble beginnings and survival he went on to write many books and teach about the philosophy of the Ancient Teaching and how to apply it to life. He had a special tool to keep himself sane and balanced and he called that JOY. Here is a lovely excerpt from one of his books, Joy and Healing.
The Story: My Father’s Joy by Torkom Saraydarian:
One of the most joyful people I met in my life was my Father. He was a born optimist. He was healthy, good-looking, energetic, and full of enthusiasm and striving. He was an incessant worker. My Father passed through the darkest hours that anyone could pass through. All his relatives — eighty-seven people — were butchered by the Turks. He was spared with my Mother because he was a pharmacist and the hospital in our town did not have a pharmacist.
Years passed and after the war and the genocide were over, my Father moved our family to a big city where he thought life would be safer. He opened a very modern pharmacy there. In a few years’ time, the pharmacy was known all over the city for its prompt and good service.
One summer morning, two policemen came and informed my Father that they had an order from the government to close the doors of the pharmacy for a week. According to his usual manner, my Father invited them into his office, offered them tea and cake, and wanted to know the reason why. They said that another pharmacy which belonged to an Armenian had poisoned an officer. The pharmacist was under investigation, and until the investigation was over, all Armenian pharmacies would be closed.
My Father took the news very calmly. He waited to see how they put wax seals on the locks of his pharmacy. Then he gave a very strange smile and took a taxi to go home. His smile was a condensation of many thoughts — difficult to express in words. In his smile there were foresight, insight, and prophecy.
He knew what was going to happen, and he had already decided not to be crumbled in the hands of fate. His smile was clearly saying that no matter what happened, he would be above it.
On the way home, he was very calm and he was smiling in serenity. Mother was surprised that we were home early. “What is the matter?” she asked.
I was waiting for Daddy to condemn and curse the situation, but he smiled at Mother and said, “It’s nothing serious. We have been instructed to take a fifteen-day leave until the government finishes some investigations about a pharmacy which is suspected of having prepared a poisonous prescription … or something like that.…”
“What action are we going to take?” she asked.
“Just be patient, and all will go the way it should.”
Then he took Mother and me to dinner on an island which was covered with pine trees. The fragrance of pine, the dinner, and the joyful environment brought cheer to our hearts.
During the next few days, my Father made an effort to reopen his pharmacy….
Six months passed, and early one morning a policeman came and gave my Father the key to his pharmacy and a note from the government that said, “The case is closed. We wish you success.”
My Father smiled. He knew their language well. He took a few dollars from his pocket and gave them to the waiting policeman. “Here, you may use these few dollars,” he said. “Thank you for the key.” And he smiled the same smile that he had smiled when they were sealing the doors of the pharmacy. The policeman disappeared without saying thank you.
On the way to the pharmacy, my Father said, “For me, all life seems like a play. It is not real. That is why sometimes loss or gain does not make a difference to the actors…. Does it?”
“I guess not.”
“If we lose, we can make it again. If we make it again, we may lose it again…. Well, let’s see how the pharmacy did in my absence.”
We unlocked the door, and Father slowly and carefully opened it. The whole pharmacy was empty.
Father took a long breath and began to laugh.
I was scared.
He continued laughing. Then he said, “I bet you that the safe will also be empty.”
The safe was empty. All our cash, jewelry, and gold were gone. Daddy looked at the key, threw it away, and said, “I knew exactly how things were going to be. Let’s get out of here and go eat a good lunch.”
At the restaurant people congratulated him on reopening the pharmacy. “Thank you, thank you,” he said. “We are going to start from scratch.”
And he began to laugh.
“Daddy,” I said, “why do you laugh?”
“For the first time I feel great, so great about this,” he said. “Such tragedies cannot take away the joy of my heart. This is a great challenge for me to prove to my Lord that I can start my service again.”
At night, many doctors, psychiatrists, and other professional friends came to comfort him and encourage him. He served wine, made jokes, and made people laugh. And he said, “I am, in a sense, glad because a heavy load has been taken from my shoulders, but I am sorry for those whom I was serving almost free.” One of my Father’s habits was to give poor people their prescriptions free.
Years later, once when we were talking about this incident, he said, “We saved energy, health, and money by not falling into depression, anger, hatred, and irritation but by maintaining our joy, patience, and serenity. If we had lost these three diamonds, the future would have been lost for us.” Then with the same strange smile….
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About the Author: Gita’s educational background includes a Master of Arts degree in Law and Diplomacy; a Master of Arts degree in History; and a Bachelor of Arts degree in Cultural Anthropology and Linguistics. She also taught and studied in Taiwan. Gita’s multi-disciplinary academic training, travels and studies abroad combined with her family background give a cross-cultural quality to her entire philosophy, approach to life, and her approach to the Teaching.
Connect with Gita at http://www.gitasaraydarian.org
