Tuesday, July 12, 2011

Day 281: Crying.

The downstairs neighbor’s baby has been wailing the past three nights in a row.
I don’t know if they are trying to Ferberize the poor child, but it has me concerned.
Concerned enough to go downstairs and put my ear up to their door to see if they are even home.
Of couse they are.
The baby is probably teething or sick.
They are probably hot and exhausted.
I see them with him all the time and they are loving, doting parents.
I’m not a nosy neighbor, but the comforter in me wishes they would find a way to soothe him.
Hug him.
Cradle him.
Anything to not hear him in such anguish.
As children, the first way we learn to express that something is bothering us is to cry.
To scream and wail until the comfort comes.
As we get older we learn to use our words.
And when words, even lovely eloquent ones, are not an option anymore, we do it in private.
Or snuff and suppress the emotion altogether.
Crying is weak, we tell our reflection.
Crying is giving up, we whisper angrily in our own ears.
Crying is for babies.
Is it?
Or is it an act that we have lost an understanding of?
I’m starting to believe that as adults we need to appreciate the healing that tears can bring.
And only in feeling our pain, whatever it is, can we ever attempt to Ferberize ourselves.
Let it all out; feel the hurt, until comfort comes from nobody but us.
Then we will learn how to take baby steps to move away from a bad situation or leave a certain sadness behind.
Only then can we appreciate how amazing it is to walk all on our own.
For the first time. Again.

1 comment:

  1. I completely agree, I used to bottle it up and look where that landed me. Now I cry when I need to.

    A x