How are you doing? This fresh, new year is already abundant with fresh, new challenges. I feel like an old time circus performer, twirling delicate plates on sticks while juggling with flaming batons, and the snarky assistant just tossed me a baby sea turtle. I’ve been managing so far, but the delicate and flaming stack up on the already precariously balanced. Some days I want to just let my limp arms fall to my sides and let it all fall down.
I seem to be dating a little cold……..
a little sore throat-head-achey kind of thing. When it’s here, it seems so passionate and all consuming. Nothing matters but attending it. Then it’s gone and I tentatively rejoin my life, wondering if it really happened.
Yes, I’ve been tested, no COVID, but it’s skulking everywhere. That relationship sounds more like the grisly divorce that threatens to sweep the table clear, throwing the precious crystal and sturdy cutlery callously to the floor. This phantom has haunted us for two years now, and like survivors of other traumas, we can get jaded, then ashamed when someone else is harmed, then jacked up on fear again. Sometimes we just get tired and want to let it all fall down.
As a support for all of this, I would like to suggest a daily cry. We can be like water balloons, with each difficulty filling us up more, stretching the skin, eventually threatening the balloon itself to break open. I’ve often heard folks say they’re so afraid of this rupture that they double down on tightly tying off their emotional balloon. Instead, why not let a little out every day? We may not have much say over the tension and tragedy around us, but we could claim more agency over what we’re retaining.
Why would I want to cry every day? Weeping is a fantastic stress release! Our bodies are prepared to reset regularly, and they do this by crying, laughing, orgasming, sneezing, barfing and more. Don’t you feel better after any of these discharges? I think that part of the magic is that we’re out of control with all of these letting go activities. Unless we’re shamed or censored by outside influences, we can’t stop – and somewhere in the middle we don’t want to stop. The body and soul tell the mind to quit paddling upstream and let the river take the whole crew down the falls!
How do I cry?
We are so blessed to live in this age of easy-access technology, because you can effortlessly call up cry-worthy material.
Tears are not just for loss or sorrow.
A satisfying cry can also come from joy (sukha), appreciative joy (mudita) and witnessing tenderness. I always cry when I watch the Olympics. You might cry when you watch the Seahawks! If you have access to real human interaction, like a playground or an airport, you could just observe folks and cry in public.
If you’d like to do your therapeutic weeping privately, here are some prompts to get your tear-whistle whetted: Check out this clip of a doggie rescue:
Or this one of a baby gorilla reuniting with its family:
One of my favorites is Susan Boyle:
I encourage you to find ways to cry on your own terms. Prime the pumps in your tear ducts and allow yourself to feel those feels! You don’t even need to get sad to do it.