A Crying State of Mind
Apr 08, 2019
Sometimes songs feel like daggers and sometimes they feel like blankets.
I've been crying a lot lately. The unexpected kind.
There are cries you hold back, push down and beg to go away and then there is the unexpected. The warm water running down your face, reaching your chin before you even recognize it's happening.
Not the kind of cry that feels like the floodgates burst, but almost natural, effortlessly, unconsciously, like a relaxed breath out.
I used to cry. A lot. For years at one period of my life.
I would hide in washrooms, hide in blankets, hide in cars. I would cry. I would cry for things that never happened and for things I couldn't forget. I would cry about all the things I couldn't change and those I was afraid I might not be able to. I would cry for people I'd never met, places I'd never been and moments that weren't a part of my experience.
Then I stopped.
I still cried but it was never about me. It was never about my losses. It was never about my heartaches. It was never the response to anything inside of me, only the empathic pains felt for the losses of others.
Until this year. This baby of a year that is only 3 months in.
I've cried for heartaches I never mourned and heartaches I thought I had nothing left to feel the loss of.
I cried because I thought my career had seen its best days and I cried because I was worried I had nothing left to give of my creative gifts.
I cried because I thought I'd failed myself, my son, my friends, my partners, my family, my community and the world.
And this weekend I cried some more and thought about why......
And this week I'll take the insight I gather and craft something special for my members because even when we think we're crying alone, we never really are.