There are days just for crying.
Believing that tears mean ‘there’s something wrong with me‘ adds an additional layer of suffering that is unnecessary.
You don’t know why you’re crying.
And you don’t need to know either.
Just cry.
You don’t even need anyone by your side.
Crying alone is in itself what’s needed.
Without someone there to justify or intrude upon the natural flow of tears.
You with yourself crying, mourning, grieving and even more than that.
You’ve been taught by the world that when you cry, that means something is very wrong.
And so crying becomes something you’re trying to hide.
Ashamed of.
Something to keep in. To hold back.
So you can go about business as usual.
But business as usual has gone out the window some time ago.
Business as usual was always a superimposed layer on the tears that want to flow.
Days for crying are beautiful days. Just for you. You by yourself.
Ask those around you to leave you be. To not intrude or impose their relational needs on you. To leave you to cry your heart out. Without trying to come and save you. Or even feel with you. It’s not what you need. It’s a time for you, your tears and your solitude to be honored – bowed down to. Left alone.
Sometimes you just need to cry alone. Totally alone. So you can be honest with your tears. And so that your tears can be honest with you. So that your tears can bless you in your aloneness.
The kind of honesty that comes when you’re by yourself. The kind of let go that comes when there’s no one else around.
Crying days are sacred days that need to be honored.
You can cry your heart out.
You can cry till you can cry no more.
And the mind will try to come up with reasons for why you’re crying.
But it doesn’t matter, does it?
The tears are the fact.
There’s no need to add a layer of understanding on top of it.
What can we understand anyway. Not much.
So be with your tears and honor them. Let them clean you out. Let them take you where you are alone in the solitude of your dark. Without needing to explain or worry or care about anyone else, anything else, anywhere else.
Let your face be an expression of the pain you feel. Don’t try to mold it into an amicable expression to soothe or appease your nearest and dearest. Trying to communicate on some level, “I’m okay, it’s okay, nothing to worry about”.
No, fuck that. You’re not okay. And in your not okay-ness, you’re okay. More than okay. You’re beautiful.
You don’t need to make anyone feel better about themselves by masking your pain. A saccharine smile, or a slight nod or gesture to re-assure them all is well. All is not well. And that’s okay.
Pain is not a mistake. Pain is not a sign that something is wrong. That belief makes an enemy of pain. A shame of pain.
You’re not here to make everyone comfortable. That’s what weighs on you because you believe you need to hide your pain. To take on a role. And you can’t. You don’t have it in you. You no longer have that capacity.
Be in pain. Don’t make an enemy of pain. Let it be on your face. In your eyes. In your relating. The more you try to hide it, the more painful it gets.
And cry. Cry without making the tears wrong. Without holding back. Without putting a time limit on your tears. Without making tomorrow a day for ‘being better’. Because in that, there’s a subtle demand for the tears to come to an end today, sooner rather than later. And in that, a sense of hurry – speed past the tears, rush by the sobbing and the heartbreak. Be a mess today, but business as usual tomorrow.
No. Throw out this old and dusted instructions manual. And be here today crying, sobbing, in pain, in heartbreak, in inconsolable sorrow. Let the pain pierce your bones, your heart, your gut, your skull. Give it permission to totally touch you, unhidden, unashamed, untangled from the belief of wrongness.
Bless you in your pain, in your tears, as it is, as you are without anything needing to change. Amen.