When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight. ~Kahlil Gibran
I had coffee with my nephew, Dave yesterday. He's 19 and at the peak of his fact-gathering, self-defining mission. It's so validating to watch because it reminds me that this is a season all thinking people must experience. The bombardment of ideas, especially those of the "liberal," "humanistic," "post-modern," and "new-age" varieties make us rethink and refine our core beliefs. They make us stronger and better. They make us claim our ideologies and give us the words to define them. I'm proud of him. He's a thinker. So am I.
There are a lot of things in my brain. Too much thinking. Too many thoughts. I need a thought vacation. I'm departing in about five minutes. I won't think about anything but laundry, groceries and soap for the rest of the day. I will lose myself in the business of mindlessness. I'm excited. This is my "farewell to thought" post.
I am, indeed, "weeping for that which has been my delight." I can't seem to stop, though, and that's my problem. I've cried a year of tears over the past two weeks. Someone handed me a button at my Bible study. It said "It's ok to say Merry Christmas." I don't care about "Merry Christmas" versus "Happy Holidays," but I cried. Someone sent me a kind e-mail. I went to thank her, and I cried. Someone wrote a kind and encouraging note to me, and I cried. I heard a Mr. Rogers song and I cried. I saw a red-tailed hawk flying over 8th Avenue and I cried. To be honest with you, I'm crying now. I don't know why though. I just don't know why. Or maybe I do. I've decided not to think about it.
I am, indeed, "weeping for that which has been my delight." I can't seem to stop, though, and that's my problem. I've cried a year of tears over the past two weeks. Someone handed me a button at my Bible study. It said "It's ok to say Merry Christmas." I don't care about "Merry Christmas" versus "Happy Holidays," but I cried. Someone sent me a kind e-mail. I went to thank her, and I cried. Someone wrote a kind and encouraging note to me, and I cried. I heard a Mr. Rogers song and I cried. I saw a red-tailed hawk flying over 8th Avenue and I cried. To be honest with you, I'm crying now. I don't know why though. I just don't know why. Or maybe I do. I've decided not to think about it.
2 comments:
I know that sometimes crying is annoying, especially when you don't know why you're crying. But I think God knew what he was doing when he made us emotional (and hormonal) beings ... I'm glad that you get to cry, and that I get to cry (sometimes). I cried in front of my mom on Friday night, and she hugged me for a long time and it was good. I cried listening music on saturday morning, and it was good. I'd rather feel something and cry than not feel anything. Or to feel something and not be able to cry. I don't know if any of this makes sense, or if it relates at all to how you feel. I was just thinking about that while I was reading your post.
I hope your thought vacation was good. I'm going to take one of those soon.
love,
amanda
I think you're right about God knowing what He was doing. Crying when you don't know why makes you so transparent, somehow. I think that's why (some) men freak out when women cry. I'm grateful for people who support us when we do that, and I'm glad that we can cry, too. :-)
Love,
Su
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