Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Some Days are Made for Rain
Nice trombone duets outside the Dupont Circle metro stop.
Some days I cry. I just do. I listen to evocative music, or the voice of someone I love over the phone, or maybe I sink into a beautiful memory - or a sad memory - or some hope for something yet to come. Or all of the above. Some days are just so full that my heart overflows. What can I do but just, well, cry?
Yesterday the weather in DC was absolute perfection, Colorado weather - low humidity, high of about 80 degrees F. I walked and walked, received a wonderful massage from my Bulgarian Olympic swimmer massage therapist, then wandered home among honking car horns and the din of the city. Everything seemed absolutely perfect.
I was listening to the music of Townes Van Zandt and Rick Lowe and the beautiful voices of Bono, Aaron Neville, even the Grateful Dead (via the ipod). My goodness, I was a piece of work yesterday. Whew.
With all the sparking sunshine, fluffy clouds, and lost in the beauty of the music, somehow I just could not keep myself from shedding many many many tears. They weren't those hot, acidic, burning tears that accompany a bout of frustration or grief, no, they were the wet, sweet-salty tears of pure, heart-felt expression. People passing me on the street steered a wide arc around me. It's so funny how averse we are to any emotion in this crazy city - except anger. That, we get. But the kind of weepy mood that accompanies feelings of love and beauty? There's no place for the expression of that in the District, oh no.
You know, crying is therapeutic. It draws toxins from the body, it empties lymph glands. Sometimes, too, it is the only way to express the fullness of feeling that comes from being so in love with this life, this beautiful planet, this amazing experience of corporeal existence.
Yesterday it was sunny outside but rainy in the internal realms. Today I feel clear and sunny inside. Ironically, or perfectly, depending on how you look at it, I see from my window that the clouds have gathered and a soft rain is falling. Sweet, eh? I think so.
L'chaim, y'all. Sniff sniff.
**Thanks, Aaron Neville, for the way you sing that song.