Life has to be everything. It can't be all sad. It can't be all

Hear the wisdom of Sterling K. Brown, who declared: “Life has to be everything. It can’t be all sad. It can’t be all peaches and cream. Because the lows have you appreciate the highs. And the highs give you perspective on the lows. If it’s not everything, it becomes flat or mundane.” These words echo the voices of sages and poets across the ages, for they remind us that to live fully is to embrace both shadow and light, sorrow and joy, defeat and triumph. Without contrast, there is no depth, and without depth, there is no meaning.

The heart of this saying lies in the truth of balance. A life filled only with joy, untouched by grief, would become hollow, for the sweetness of joy is measured against the bitterness of loss. Likewise, a life of nothing but sadness would crush the spirit without the hope of reprieve. Thus, the soul must pass through both valleys and mountaintops. The lows sharpen gratitude for the highs, and the highs soften the bitterness of the lows. This is the great rhythm of existence—the rising and falling that keeps the heart alive.

The ancients understood this rhythm well. The Greeks told of Heraclitus, who taught that life is change, and that joy and sorrow, day and night, war and peace, are bound together like the two ends of a bow. In the East, the symbol of yin and yang reveals the same wisdom: that dark contains light and light contains dark, and each gives meaning to the other. Across civilizations, the same truth resounds—life has to be everything, for without everything, it becomes nothing.

Consider the story of Abraham Lincoln, who led his nation through its darkest hour. He suffered deep melancholy, personal losses, and the crushing weight of war. Yet it was precisely because he knew despair that he could speak with such eloquence about hope, unity, and renewal. His lows made his vision of the highs more profound. His life teaches us, as Brown’s words do, that the greatest leaders, the most resilient souls, are those who have walked through both darkness and light.

There is also courage in accepting that life is not meant to be smooth or simple. The desire for unbroken comfort—the constant feast of peaches and cream—breeds stagnation. When challenges come, the one who has only known ease is easily undone. But the one who has known both sorrow and joy, both struggle and triumph, stands strong, for they know the cycle and trust its wisdom. They do not despair in hardship, for they remember joy; nor do they become arrogant in joy, for they remember hardship.

The lesson for us is clear: do not curse the lows, nor cling too desperately to the highs. See both as teachers. Let sorrow deepen your compassion, and let joy expand your gratitude. Recognize that the fullness of life—the very thing that gives it texture and depth—comes from its variety. To demand only happiness is to flatten the soul; to welcome all of life is to make the soul vast and unbreakable.

Practical wisdom calls to us: when you are in a season of sadness, remind yourself that this too shall pass, and that its weight will one day make joy feel lighter still. When you are in a season of joy, do not squander it, but savor it deeply, knowing that it is precious because it is fleeting. And in every season, whether in pain or in celebration, give thanks that you are alive to feel both—for to feel both is to live richly, to live deeply, to live fully.

Thus, the words of Sterling K. Brown ring with timeless power: “Life has to be everything.” May we embrace the whole of existence, not fearing sorrow, not idolizing ease, but walking bravely through all of it. For in the weaving of highs and lows, of sweetness and sorrow, the tapestry of life becomes beautiful, meaningful, and eternal.