It is said that the tears of a phoenix have healing properties. It is quite believable that this would be true of not only a magical and majestic bird that dies in the flames only to be reborn again but also of a disciple who has emerged from the fiery battle and severe testing and trials on the path of return to the father. It is as we are broken open that our tears pour forth and if they are tears of release, they have the potential not only to heal ourselves but to heal the world. (excerpted from http://www.worldservicegro
Through the years, I have found myself continually drawn to the image of the phoenix bird. Not just the image, but what this mythical bird represents. A symbol of the sun, of rebirth and recovery, the cycle of life. Light and life. Tears that heal. Thinking back on the tearful times of my life, I can now see that more often than not, when I shed a tear, it's usually for or because of someone else.
I'm usually pretty good at not crying. It's something I've learned over the years, especially when my dad would look at me and tell me to stop crying because he didn't do anything to me...which was true. All I've ever had in my family was words...and not even harsh ones at that. I think my family thought something was wrong with me when my grandfather died since I wasn't bawling my head off like the rest of them...I just didn't see the need. It's seeing them all worked up that gets to me.
Perhaps my reluctance to cry stems from being surrounded by emotional people growing up? My grandma has an obsession with the Korean Drama...need I say more? As I got older, there were times when there was nothing I could do but cry...usually as a result of the realization that no matter how much I cared about someone, no matter how much I wanted them to become a better person for themselves...that was their choice, and it just wasn't worth it to be dragged down with them.
Now, I find that when I cry, it's a different kind of tear. Although I may not be in the presence of any other person, I now know that I never cry alone. Different things make me cry. I can deal with physical pain. Falling off the bus last year had me down on one knee, unable to stand, but I shed no tears. I sucked it up, called my neighbors to come around the corner with the car and bring me home, and resigned myself to hopping around my house on crutches. I find that the things that make me cry now, are not physical things. They tend to be things that dig way down deep in my heart.
Like the realization that as much as I am far from perfect, I am still loved. Even though he often gets irritated and frustrated with me (like when I spend all my money on food...or stuff...and cannot clean my house...) he still loves me. Even though I know he gets so irritated with his brother that he wishes him dead sometimes...I still love him. Yes, that makes me cry. And yet I know that his brother has a combination of tourettes with ocd and yes he can be irritating sometimes...but is still a human being. That makes me cry. When I try to understand why he has such a huge dislike for church and anything related to God..although he has a tattoo on his arm that says "Akua" in big letters...and he showed me a certificate from when he actually got baptized at Makiki Christian Church...and I don't understand and just plain don't know what happened to draw him away? and yet I love him still...that makes me cry. I guess the love of God beats strong in my heart, because despite everything, through all the tears, Love wins at the end of the day.
So yes, there is nothing wrong with a good cry.
