This is going to be column of clichés, but I hope, not without meaning. A string of words aptly joined becomes a cliché by overuse; it becomes overused because nothing else carries the truth quite so simply, precisely or effectively. Phrases become clichés because they contain a kernel of truth.

It is obvious that life isn't always a bed of roses. In fact, it seldom is and even then only apparently so, and perhaps only to those who do not feel and cannot think. If it is a bowl of cherries, they never come without pits. Nevertheless, as thorny as life is, it is better than the alternative. How then to deal with the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, the pits and the thorns that accompany life, even in the best of times.

What kind of an attitude will carry one through the muck and the suffering of life? Sikhs call it chardi kala. I have seen it literally translated as eternal optimism, cheerfulness. Cheerfulness in the face of certain disaster seems an anachronism. Perhaps such optimistic happiness would be possible but only in a state of numbed mindlessness. And most people are neither willing nor able to suspend their feelings and thoughts so completely or successfully. Sikhism never recommends mindlessness; in fact it asks its followers to cultivate what the Zen would term, a state of mindfulness. Then what does it really mean to always be in a state of chardi kala?

When Guru Arjan and Guru Tegh Bahadur accepted torture, suffering and finally martyrdom, they rejoiced in God's will. It does not mean that they were unfeeling of pain. There are so many examples of martyrdom in Sikh history that their recounting here must surely be incomplete and inadequate, so I will not attempt.

Each of us must die and that is inevitable, but death is never welcome accept by the suicidal. It is by how one accepts the reality of death that courage is measured. No one can walk away from death or suffering, defeat, pain and regret. Gurbani reminds us that "suffering" and "pleasure" are like two dresses hanging in your wardrobe that each of us must wear in turn. No one is exempt. It follows then that it is in wearing the robe of suffering nobly and gracefully that chardi kala is defined.

To me chardi kala is a state of mind defined by hope and faith. There can be no chardi kala without faith in bhana and hukam. Think of the well known prayer often ascribed to Plato: "God, grant me the power to change the things I can, the serenity to accept what I cannot change and the wisdom to know the difference." This prayer speaks powerfully of bhana and its acceptance. The fact that it is a prayer says that everything exists and occurs within hukam or a certain order, even if and especially if it remains misunderstood by us or beyond our understanding. These two - hukam and bhana - are inseparably intertwined. The latter does not and cannot exist without an acceptance of the former. Without these concepts as the axle of one's life, there can be no equipoise, no centered existence, no sehaj. Without them one cannot be at the mountaintop without plumbing the depths of the valley of sorrows.

It isn't chardi kala if it is found only in victory, never in defeat. That way lies more and guaranteed suffering. Chardi kala is easy in victory, even inevitable. It is in defeat that it must be sought and harnessed. It is in the depths that chardi kala defines character. And that is the essence of Sikh teaching.

At one time in my life I was working at night and going to graduate school during the day. Life was hard. Although my research advisor wasn't a Sikh I talked to him about the Sikh teaching on chardi kala and how difficult it was to always walk the path. After thinking awhile he said he understood and then summarized the concept in one simple sentence:

"When life gives you a lemon make lemonade."