I will not stop crying

How many times can I say I’ve sat with tears in my eyes?  Is every time I write too many?  Such is the life of a highly sensitive person.  I tried desperately for years to stop the tears.  Lately I’ve stopped caring about the tears.  They come.  I let them. 

In just the last 24 hours alone I cried at least a handful of times.

I cried watching the women’s Olympic figure skating competition.  Tears of joy for each young woman who shined in her dream as an Olympian and admiration for the fortitude it must take.  And tears for the loneliness and sadness of the gold medalist that seemed to palpitate through the TV. 

I cried when our vet called and said they could take Bodhi for a small procedure today.  I’ve been incredibly anxious about our senior dog going under anesthesia and the welling in the corner of my eyes hasn’t stop since I dropped him off.

I also cried yesterday during a professional meeting yesterday where putting my best foot forward felt necessary.  The universe is offering me a chance to step up.  My hesitation was noticeable and when asked about it I cried.  I can not hold it in.

I cry for myself.  I cry for my loved ones.  I cry for strangers and far-removed circumstances.  My husband and our kids know this piece of me well – crying is my expression of every single feeling be it joy, contentment, ease, power, anger, sadness, embarrassment, overwhelm, etc.  They know I don’t feel anything lightly.

Embracing the tears that arise in me so easily and often is still difficult.  In our society tears are commonly equated with weakness or a lack.  One of those age old, I’d be rich if I had a dime for every time I was told to stop crying stories, is pervasive. 

But tears and all, I’ve always been one to stand up and speak out for the changes I want to see.  It’s one of the many, many reasons I do the work that I do tin yoga.  The teaching.  The writing.  The caretaking.  These are places where my open spirit and vulnerability are embraced.  These spaces have reminded me that letting go, that feeling everything deeply indeed builds our connection to ourselves, each other, the eternal.

This morning I received the kindest note from a member of my online yoga studio, the Be You Hub.  She had just taken an on demand class and emailed to share her experience of trying an arm balance.  “Anyway, I was skeptical of the pose at first, but then remembered this month's mantra to let it go. And then I got there!”

The reserves of strength, flexibility, mobility, stamina, etc. that our body learns from doing a yoga asana practice regularly are helpful, but when something extra is needed it must come from our emotional center.  If our emotional center is blocked then how can we get there?

The crying is my secret sauce for getting there and staying open.  Who else is with me?  I’m in this for the long haul with you to keep doing the practice and keep throwing down the walls.