Tears come easy, beauty , sadness and all in between.
Psychiatric medications affected releasing of tears , that took
me to a whole nother world of release in the flood of grief
What came up with Dad’s last 6 months , was primal at times
leaving me weak, in the grief of loosing him, watching him
being manipulated and used with no dignity compounded
everything , because it was the last act of love I could give him.
The manipulation of his sons , in many abuses and threats
made that divinity impossible .
Crying doesn’t describe what emitted from my body ..
INTERNATIONAL CRYING WEEK
This is International Crying Week. You have a poetic license to sob, mourn, lament, blubber, and weep because of deep sadness or unreasonable joy or cathartic epiphanies or compassion for the suffering of others or visions of the interconnectedness of all life.
In his book “Crying: the Natural and Cultural History of Tears,” Tom Lutz asserts that people don’t cry as much as they used to. The English of the Victorian era, supposedly renowned for their stuffy behavior, put us to shame with their abundant outpouring of tears.
So what’s our excuse? There’s as much, if not more, to be mournful about nowadays; and we certainly don’t suffer from a lack of events to spur our cathartic joy and empathy.
Walk into the hills or woods and find a large rock jutting up out of the earth in a place that makes you feel at home. Sit down on or next to that rock and let go of the tightly wound emotions you’ve been holding onto. Sob or sigh or babble until you achieve a spiritual orgasm that will clear your mind of all its gunk and free you to make the decision you’ve been postponing.
Ever hereafter you will call this the Crying Rock, and you will go there whenever you need the kind of release that only a beloved natural power spot can facilitate.
My friend Marika regards her crying spells as surrogate orgasms. They bring a surging release of pent-up emotions, and leave her deeply relaxed and in love with life.
Another friend, Ariane, weeps now and then out of self-pity, but more often her sobs are triggered by overwhelming beauty, like the sight of the last dragonfly of Indian summer alighting beside her as she gazes on Mt. Tamalpais at dusk and feels the first kick of the growing baby inside her belly.
Myself, I experience my tears as a well-earned triumph, whether they’re driven by loss or fullness; they’re the sign of the inner work I’ve done to feel things deeply.
Rambunctious singer Tom Waits is not known for his scientific research, but a few years ago he made a valuable contribution in the quest to measure sadness.
Holding a spoon to his cheek during an especially blue period of his life, he found that it takes 121 teardrops to fill a teaspoon.
Building on his work, I’ve discovered that crying for joy causes a spoon to overflow after only 98 tears, suggesting that they’re bigger.
I invite you to do further studies on this subject. Tap into watery breakthroughs of several varieties, ranging from the relatively poignant to the outrageously sublime.
In Janet Fitch’s novel White Oleander, a character makes a list of “twenty-seven names for tears,” including “Heartdew. Griefhoney. Sadwater. Die tränen. Eau de douleur. Los rios del corazón.”
(The last three can be translated as “The Tears,” “Water of Pain,” and “The Rivers of the Heart.”)
I invite you to emulate this playfully extravagant approach to the art of crying. Now is an excellent time to celebrate and honor your sadness, as well as all the other rich emotions that provoke tears. You’ll be wise to feel profound gratitude for your capacity to feel so deeply.
For best results, go in search of experiences and insights that will unleash the full cathartic power of weeping. Act as if empathy is a superpower.