SEPTEMBER 18 — We often admire the final result without thinking about what came before it. A polished stone. A tall tree. A quiet success. We see the outcome, but not the struggle. Pearls are no different. They shine with calm and beauty. But if you know their story, you’ll realise they begin with something small, and more often than not, painful.
For the longest time, I thought oysters naturally produced pearls, as if that was simply what oysters did, like chickens laying eggs. It wasn’t until a visit to Jamilah Jewellery in Kota Kinabalu, years ago, that I learned otherwise. The seller explained the truth, and I remember feeling quietly surprised — and more than a little corrected.
You see, a pearl begins with a problem. A bit of sand or a broken shell gets stuck inside an oyster. The oyster can’t remove it. So it protects itself the only way it knows how — by coating the irritant with layer upon layer of nacre. Over time, the wound becomes smooth. The pain becomes beauty.
And that feels a lot like life.
We don’t just grow from joy and comfort. We grow from the things that hurt. From the job that didn’t work out. From the mistake we couldn’t undo. From a long silence, a goodbye, a change we weren’t ready for. These aren’t the parts of life we like to talk about. But often, they’re the ones that shape us the most.
Writer James Baldwin famously wrote in his 1962 The New York Times essay, “Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced.” That grain of sand, representing life’s pain, loss, and lessons, will not just vanish. But it can become something else. Something useful. Even something good. Remember, the oyster doesn’t get to choose what enters. But it gets to choose what to do with it.
And so do we.
Change like this takes time. Pearls don’t form overnight. It’s the same with us. The process is slow. It often feels like nothing is happening. But beneath the surface, something is.
You learn. You soften. You build new layers. Bit by bit, you become someone wiser than before.
Alan Watts once said, “The only way to make sense of change is to move with it, and join the dance.” It’s a gentle reminder: don’t fight the shift. Learn from it. Let it shape you. Even if you can’t see where it’s leading just yet.
The hardest part? Most of this work happens quietly. You don’t get a medal for growing. No one throws a party when you stop reacting, when you start letting go, when you finally forgive. But this inner work — the silent kind — is often the strongest kind.
Pearls aren’t perfect. Some are lopsided, some never leave the shell. But all of them carry a story. They remind us that value doesn’t always come from what you start with, but from what you do with it.
Anne Morrow Lindbergh once wrote, “The sea does not reward those who are too anxious, too greedy, or too impatient. One should lie empty, open, choiceless as a beach — waiting for a gift from the sea.” That’s how growth feels sometimes. You can’t rush it. You can’t force it. You just have to keep showing up — open, steady, and ready to receive what life brings next.
So if you’re in a season that feels tough — where something stings or stays unsettled — maybe this is your pearl moment. Maybe something strong is forming, even if you can’t see it yet.
Growth doesn’t always look big. It doesn’t have to be loud. Some of the best things begin from pain, and turn into peace — not because the pain was good, but because you stayed long enough to learn from it.
You’re not broken. You’re becoming the pearl in the story of your life.
* Ir Dr Nahrizul Adib Kadri is a professor of biomedical engineering at the Faculty of Engineering, and the Principal of Ibnu Sina Residential College, Universiti Malaya. He may be reached at [email protected]
** This is the personal opinion of the writer or publication and does not necessarily represent the views of Malay Mail.
