The Dichotomy of Tears

I think that Eve Ensler said it best, I Am An Emotional Creature. I have always worn my emotions on my sleeve and I cry at the drop of a hat. I can project myself forward and cry about things that have not yet happened; I can take myself to points in the past and cry over events in my life that happened decades ago; I can take pause in the present, sensing the emotion of those around me.

I recall in the months before my daughter headed off to college, I would go out to cut the lawn, only to come back inside in tears. I'd go past the old playhouse, now grown over with vines, past the non-functioning swing set, the seldom used trampoline, the garden she helped me to create. Literally, every corner of the yard was a reminder of our children, working and playing in the yard with us, happy family memories stored in a special space in my heart. A favorite family memory was playing vegetable baseball. I don't know how it all happened but we had an abundance of overripe vegetables and decided we would use the produce as baseballs. We had a blast and the grass in the yard looked like a vegetarians version of carnage when we were done. There was much happiness at the time but the memory brought out tears that those times are long gone.

With aging parents, aging friends and aging self, I feel sadness in the passage of time, causing changing dynamics of relationships. While change can bring new opportunities and experiences, there is also sadness that the routines and traditions we latched onto, that provided a sense of stability, may come to an end at some point. While this is the circle of life, that doesn't necessarily make it easier. I feel emotions so deeply that sometimes I seemingly cannot function.

I have learned late in life that the nature of tears reside along a continuum of emotion. While mostly associated with sadness, I have experienced the tears of joy that arise from this complicated mix of utter happiness and hope that rises from deep within. I feel that joyful tears capture the essence of my being as they work through my body. As an example, the birth of our children comes to mind. There is nothing like the joy of seeing the start of a life. My inner core and my heart send these signals to my brain. As my eyes are the last point of exit and the window to my soul, the feelings that I have are released to the outside world as tears, streaming down my cheeks. Like many dichotomies, there is an in-between, tears that are a mix of both joy and sadness. This simultaneous residing in two worlds is confusing at times and reminds me of my own transition, living in two worlds for much of my life. It also has remnants of Schrodinger's cat, being two things at once. I experience this sometimes when I am exercising on my elliptical. I am so jazzed up from exercising, listening to music, transporting myself across time, my mind awash as ideas and feelings bubble up in a rapid, somewhat random fashion. Those tearful workouts are often some of my best. I also experienced these tears with a recent job interview. I felt a need from an organizational standpoint to apply for the job. I know the skills are in my wheelhouse and that I would do an amazing job; I sensed that I am who is needed. But yet, when I am honest, my heart is in the classroom. My modus operandi has long been that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the one. I have attempted to live a life of service. I took my own approach with a presentation I had to give. I handled the questions okay, stumbled on a few but I provided honest answers. At the end, I asked a question that gave me insights. I had planned a statement to share but heading into the interview, I wasn't certain that I'd share it. I opted to express my thoughts, knowing that the statement would probably take me out of the running. I have always felt a calling and I have never tried to sell myself for a job. Many of my jobs are ones where I was asked, I didn't apply out of

the blue. I feel that whatever the position I am in is rather irrelevant to what I feel I need to accomplish. My tears are sadness for the potential lost opportunity but joyful for being true to myself.

Although I have not heard the results of the interview, I am shedding tears and processing. I love the community at Washington Junior High School. After I lost my job six years ago, I fought to find my way back there. Kathy's focus on learning and her guiding principle that, "we have to do right by these kids" helps to guide my decision making.

One of my dear friends counsels me to drink water when I feel like crying as she has learned that one cannot cry while drinking water. Today, I am employing that strategy. Just now it dawned on me that the water is also fuel. By drinking water I am both preventing and enabling tears. I looked at my water glass and saw it not as water but as future tears. I raise a glass in a quiet toast to myself, celebrating this amazing journey of life, and cry.

Drink up, my friends.