saturday, and crying

I’m in the midst of my official weekend off.  Started at noon today with a cut and color for my hair, followed by a late lunch, a nap and reading girly fiction for two hours.  That’s right.  No work, no email, no reviewing expenses, just nothing.  It’s lovely. 

Lunch was a black bean burrito, avocado and some blue corn chips.

Dinner was dandelion greens with creamy sesame sauce, zucchini and carrots, and potato gnocchi.  It was all delicious, but I had exactly three too many gnocchi.  They’re sitting like lead pucks in my stomach, and I think they’re expanding.  I hope they settle down, because I’ve made a divine rice pudding that I fully intend on eating, and it just won’t be as much fun if I’m feeling stuffed.  Actually I’d hope I’ve got enough sense by now not to force down the rice pudding if I’m stuffed.  We’ll see.  I made it from left over brown rice, oat milk, vanilla, maple syrup and cardamom.  It tastes so good it brings tears to my eyes.

Speaking of tears, I was thinking yesterday about finding a way to donate my tears to those in need.  This came after crying for half an hour with my health counselor, for a full hour with my book coach, for ten minutes during my morning meditation, and for five minutes while I sat in traffic.  I’m not sure what my tear volume per minute is, but that’s 105 minutes of production that could surely be of use in some drought-stricken part of the world. 

I seem to have an endless supply of tears.  I truly believe crying them out is the right thing to do – I’d rather have the angst, toxins and grief they represent flowing out of me than being stuffed in me – but jeez louise, it almost seems I’m defying the laws of physics here.  Sure, I drink a good amount of water, but I swear there’s more streaming down my face on any given day than I’m taking in.  What if there’s some bizarre ketosis-like process going on, wherein my organs and muscles are giving up their inherent hydration to fuel my crying jags?  What if I lose actual body mass?  Has anyone ever died from crying?

Probably not.  Most likely there are more people who have died from not crying.  Like I said, I’m fulled committed to crying to my heart’s content during this friggin’ divorce.  To my heart’s content, that’s right, ’cause if I keep this stuff trapped inside my heart will never have any peace.  It’s grief, it’s despair, it’s confusion and overwhelm, it’s fear; sometimes it’s unabashed glee.  I have no plans of stifling this natural flow.  I have no plans to buck up and be strong, in fact, I’m finding that being the person who can let the tears flow is making me one of the strongest people I know.  No alcohol, cigarettes or antidepressants, either.  I don’t want to short change the process.  I don’t want to put a chemical bandaid over a wound that is better served getting a chance to breathe.  I’m going to fill myself with nutrient-rich food, stay hydrated, fill my pockets with Kleenex and surround myself with people who don’t mind if I cry. 

Tags: crying, dinner, food, greens, healing, lunch, strength, support, tears