Just yesterday night, the husband and I talked about crying. I have only seen him cry once or twice in all these years, and that too from anger or frustration, not really sadness or grief. I have never seen tears in his eyes. Not even when our beloved dogs died.
I, on the other hand, cry for every little thing. I cry while watching movies, I cry while reading books, I cry when someone dies, I cry when someone is born, I cry seeing other people cry. A mere fleeting memory can trigger the tear ducts in my eyes, a paragraph in an article can provoke sobs. Anger makes me wail like a child, fear makes me cry in uncontrollable heaves.
My capacity to cry has only grown larger with time and age. As I shed the inhibition of youth, I allowed myself the luxury of expressing my true emotions unabashedly. I always keep a napkin handy in my bag, bedside table and work desk for this reason. I feel too much, and I have accepted that this is just another aspect of my true nature, like my capacity to love and my ability to bounce back after life’s many storms.
After last night’s conversation, I was reading a particularly touching book and had been thinking about the purpose of sorrow in our lives, when God sent me this message in my inbox.
Sorrow makes us all children again. Ralph Waldo Emerson said that, and he was right. A good cry can be wonderful sometimes, and sadness is nothing more than love announced. Sadness and Unhappiness are not the same thing, and it is good to remember that.
So if you’re sad… be glad. It says something about you. And there are worse things.
And there is this: sadness cleanses the heart.
Your friend, Neale Donald Walsch
For all my failings and weaknesses, I know now for certain that my propensity for crying is not one of them.