Chapter thirty-one of the Tanya addresses a danger built into its own system. The previous chapters instructed the reader to crush the ego, to contemplate one's spiritual wretchedness, to view oneself as contemptible. But what if all that self-examination produces not bitterness but depression?
Rabbi Schneur Zalman says: do not worry. Even if the process leads to deep sadness, the end result will be joy—and here is why.
Sadness, technically, comes from the kelipat nogah (קליפת נוגה)—the intermediate shell, not from holiness. Scripture says, "Strength and gladness are in His place" (1 Chronicles 16:27). The Shechinah rests only in joy. So how can a practice that induces sadness be part of divine service?
The answer: the sadness is a means, not an end. It is the axe taken from the forest to fell the forest itself. The Talmud in Tractate Sanhedrin says: "From the forest itself is taken the axe." The sitra achara is defeated using its own material. The sadness that temporarily darkens the heart is weaponized against the very kelipah (a shell of impurity) that produced it. Once the kelipah is broken—once the ego has been crushed and the arrogance shattered—joy floods in through the cracks.
But the Tanya makes a critical distinction. Atzvut (עצבות), sadness or depression, is not the same as merirut (מרירות), bitterness. Depression deadens. The heart becomes a stone. Nothing moves. Bitterness, on the other hand, is alive with energy—painful, fervent, agonized, but vitally active. The broken heart is a bitter heart, not a dead one. And bitterness comes from the holy attribute of gevurah (גבורה), divine severity.
The instruction is practical: set aside specific times—not during prayer, not during Torah study—to engage in this self-examination. Let the bitterness do its work. Then move into joy. The joy that follows genuine brokenness is infinitely superior to the joy that has never known darkness. As (Ecclesiastes 2:13) says: "Wisdom surpasses folly as light surpasses—and emerges from—darkness."