#101: An ode to crying.
#101: An ode to crying.
Are you willing and able to feel alive?
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“Willing and able to assist?”
I rotely responded “yes!” to the flight attendant’s FAA-required question about my mindset and capabilities while sitting in a coveted exit-row seat.
As the safety video commenced, I turned to stare out the window at the Chicago ramp crew tossing the remaining bags in the cargo hold. After seven years of at-least-monthly flights, I’m a connoisseur of safety videos; I’d seen United’s a hundred times, and it’s nothing to write home about. (Air New Zealand, you’re the winner!)
Then, an unfamiliar info video started. “This is a story that makes everyone cry…” the woman’s voice began, tongue firmly in cheek.
I swiveled my head back to the in-seat monitor to watch as the camera panned to passengers in various states of teary-eyed emotion.
“Laugh cry… Ugly cry… And definitely, totally not crying,” she continued.
The short wrapped up with a gray-bearded Santa Claus look-alike, shoulders shaking with barely contained sobs as he watched a tiny sea turtle navigate its first steps across a wide beach. A flight attendant put a soothing arm on his shoulder, handing him a cocktail napkin to dab his tears.
The final words floated across the frame in crisp white font:
Screens (and feels) arriving at every seat.
In 30 seconds, this ad shined a light on our unspoken beliefs about crying.
We believe crying:
Will make people think we are weird, weak, and best avoided.
Is for sissies, which we are certainly not.
Should only be done alone in bathroom stalls or on shower floors, not airplane seats or anywhere else we can be seen.
Is a sign of being out of control, which we strive to never be.
Is only acceptable under extreme duress — and again, only as long as no one else is watching.
Even when we are crying for a GOOD reason — like baby sea turtles!
We don’t just cry when we are upset, we can also cry when we are overwhelmed with positive emotions. And being able to feel this “good” end of the spectrum is a huge reason I advocate feeling all your feels. Because we can’t numb ourselves to our lows without taking the sparkle out of the highs too. For example, giving yourself over to joy always involves accepting the risk that one day the thing that is bringing you joy will disappear. So we practice feeling the pits in order to fully, unapologetically bask in the streaming sunshine of the summit, whenever we make it there again. (For a more in-depth discussion of emotions as a whole, check out post #99 and post #88.)
I love this ad because while it’s pointing out just how uncomfortable our society is with crying, it also reminds us of all the happy reasons we tear up — being moved by love, awe, gratitude, the fragility and tenacity of a baby turtle.
Even Simon Sinek talks about how welling up is a sign you’re treading close to your purpose, your “why”.
So crying isn’t just a sign of emotion, it’s a sign of aliveness — how willing and able we are to be affected by epic experiences to the point that the intensity of the sensation bubbles up and out of our eyes.
My Chicago trip involved another reason to be moved.
My dad Harry just turned 80. Surrounded by his kids, grandkids, and one great grandkid (Isla!), blowing out his birthday candles, reading his birthday cards… he was moved. He welled up. He maybe even shed a tear.
My dad is not known for overt emotional expression, but since his stroke his feelings sneak to the surface a little more often.
This is not a sign of weakness, it’s a sign of courage. Rather than simply understanding the moment intellectually, he’s letting his heart be touched by the experience too. He’s willing to be moved by love, opened by love, made vulnerable by love — all for the sake of actually feeling love.
And you know what, I don’t think my dad’s glassy eyes made anyone think he was a sissy or not to be trusted. I think they gave us a chance to see the soft, gooey, human center under the stoic, baby-boomer shell.
Is being human so embarrassing… or is it the entire point? To have moments when we let down our guard and feel what it is to be alive?
Doing that next to a stranger on a flight doesn’t seem like a terrible time to start.
In tears,
Wishing the very happiest birthday to your amazing dad, Sue! ❤️