Occasionally, waves of sadness from the Cosmos hit me. But they don’t make me cry. They stop me in my tracks, fueling my introspective nature.
For me, here are four things likely to induce tears:
- Watching epic moments in sport, for example, Cathy Freeman winning Olympic gold in Sydney;
- Soldiers coming home to greet their loves ones;
- Scenes like this from Forrest Gump; and more recently,
- When my kindergarten children perform a song or drama as their parents watch.
It’s visceral, from the depths.
When it happens, I don’t care if anyone notices.
I’m brave enough to let it out.
The feeling is not sadness – more like a release of affection.
I guess someone might nitpick here.
I’m not concerned with labels or over-analyzation.
Most of us can psycho-analyze our own bullshit. We can explain with intricate detail. It rarely helps though.
All I care about is, after crying, the internal chatter in my head and/or the bullshit of the day quietens.
Then I feel the urge to hug those I love. I rarely explain anything.
I hug them. And it’s unfettered.
Or if that’s not possible, I redirect my attention onto something productive. Even if it’s just sitting quietly.
Knowing what taps into your deep affection is a useful stalking tool to keep you connected with the fact we all have limited time on Earth.