“Go ahead and cry! The more you cry the less you pee!”
It seems funny now, but this mocking statement made many times by my mother to me or my siblings years ago must have had an effect on me… or else I wouldn’t get the funny little knot in my stomach each time I remember it. It’s easy to laugh now… but it’s a hollow, nervous sort of laugh born out of the habit of deflecting any real meaning to what may be uncomfortable.
For most of my life I’ve been the one you would cry to… my shoulders soaking up quarts of tears and snot… but when do I get to cry?
For most of my life I’ve been the one to support you in your time of weakness… so when do I get to be weak, and allow my weakness to be seen by all?
If you need reassurance, or support, or protection from all the bogey-men out there… I’m your man. I’ve been this man for as long as I can remember… but when do I get to be scared?
I’m one of the world’s best (at least in the top 3!) huggers and holders and rockers and gentle low whisperers of soothing words that come from a deep place and go to a deep place where feeling safe and “enough” is all the treasure we desire.
But when do I get to be held?
When do I get to be the crying, frightened, lost, alone and unloved little boy? Despite what my parents told me, there’s nothing brave about putting up a brave-face… it’s the height of arrogance born of absolute fear.
I’m happy to say that this little boy has made many appearances over the last few years, and an amazingly transformative process has occured as a result. To allow myself to sob with despair… to seeth with anger… to be paralyzed with fear and get sick with resentment… was, is, and will continue to be the most freeing, empowering and enlightening experiences I could ever allow to touch me… and man, do they ever touch me!
By surrendering to and acknowledging these dark emotional storms I’ve come to realize that even though…
To hold is to be held… to love is to be loved… to understand is to be understood… to forgive is to be forgiven…
Once in a while the little boy in me needs and wants to take center stage in this very dramatic presentation of life that we all co-star in… and damn the critics!
And this little boy has gotten really good at taking direction and following cues… he can cry on a dime if needed. In fact, I think those are some of his tears down there by the keyboard…
Or are those… yours?
Jerry
September 6, 2011 at 2:14 pm
Jerry…this is absolutely beautiful. The raw, vulnerable honesty that you revealed to yourself and the world will help others do the same. What a process this must have been for you! I can imagine how hard and painful it was, but also how liberating. I am so proud of the person you have become, and I have no doubt that you will thrive and flow in the world where you are always learning and changing and growing. Thank you so much for always being there for me to soak up my tears and soothe my soul when it needed soothing. Now that skype exists, I would be happy to exchange such a gift and help or listen or whatever you need whenever you need or want. I love you!
September 5, 2011 at 4:28 pm
Wow… I was riveted from the first paragraph, almost unable to believe the extraordinary candor from the starting gate. I remember those early days, and I’ve not only had the privilege of witnessing your amazing transformation over the last several years, but I’ve had the privilege of being held and comforted and soothed by you… and once in a while, I’ve even caught a glimpse of that precious little boy. If he ever needs to lay his head in a lap and be comforted, soothed and even cry, let me know… I’ve got a spot for him. xo