The list of things I cry about is a strange assembly of unrelated things both good, bad, important, and inconsequential. I've cried due to every emotion all the way from love through anger to fear and frustration.
I've also cried about the rain, the sunshine, the lack of both and the overflow of everything. I've cried at the sight of the first snowfall and I've also, five minutes later, cried because defrosting the car was just too much to handle that morning.
I've cried respectfully, with reverence, to mark my grief. I've cried hysterically and quietly both for people I Ioved and complete strangers.
Sometimes I cry to let things go and sometimes I cry to hold onto the very same things I'd just started to loosen my grip on.
Sometimes crying is the blessing. The knot coming loose and things easing up. Sometimes it's the opposite. Tension building into jagged fits.
We are taught that it is inappropriate to cry. And yet, sometimes, crying is the only appropriate, respectful thing left for us to do.
What else can you say to this world?
When words fail us, tears can say what we are unable to express.
The multitude of things I can cry over, and I can't be the only one who does, is vast. And they're not even the same kinds of things, either. Joy and despair are so close together sometimes that our reaction to both comes by way of tears spilling down our cheeks. Perhaps, everything is just the other side of the coin of everything else in the end.
I cry because it hurts. I also cry with relief because the pain stopped. Ain't that something?
Also, the water. If ever there was something to start a religion over, it's the water. when we cry, that very same water comes spilling out again. It is almost as if we spilt the life we just drank. It was ours to keep for a moment, but now it's time to let it go again. Let it all spill forth and give it back to the earth and the air and the everything.