Grown Men don’t Cry?

The stereotype of course, men don’t cry, suck it up lad, don’t show your weaknesses to anyone. The trouble is that love expresses itself in tears, the trouble is this, there are tears of sadness, tears of joy and tears for many other emotional states and technically speaking, it shouldn’t be a ‘trouble’ or a ‘problem’.

This morning I had the pleasure of an unexpected tear whilst watching a sunrise. I share this story now.

The sun rose high and as it did it painted the clouds red, orange, yellow and purple, a breath taking spectacle,

The starlings rose one by one in there collective hundreds from the long abandoned west pier, they danced effortlessly through the ever changing palette of colours in the rising sun’s sky,

The water facing the sun began to shine and yet when looking in a Westerly direction at the sea and all her surrounding vistas they looked cold. An intriguing contrast the warmth and light had penetrated most of what was life in that moment and yet a portion was still left cold and icy, why?

The icy cold water caught my attention, it froze me in a moment of time not the same as this and yet not that different either, why the contrast I wondered?

My heart I realised was in a similar position, recently it to had been lit by a rising sun, allowing a warmth to move through it and be given away from it and yet there was and still is this part of my heart that is hidden even from me and that was the cold reflection of the icy blue sea.

I allowed myself to feel my heart and its contrast as I gazed upon the multicoloured East and the Icy blue west, not thinking about anything in particular, then as my gaze settled into a nothingness racing across the calm waters of the icy blue western sea a tear appeared,

Where did you come from tear, surely not me? Why yes, the tear replied, where else could I have come from if not you? It’s just that I have no reason to shed a tear I countered, and  I’m not sure i’m comfortable looking out into the vastness of the blue ocean whilst little blue oceans of my own stream down the canyons of my weathered storm called my life.

I am but a tear, I am neither good, nor bad, I am free from judgement and so are you, you saw beauty in nature and in that moment saw the beauty of your own nature, you understood that you need not battle with yourself anymore and as you let go of the dams you had built inside of you I came out simply as a reminder, a reminder that we are water after all, that life is lived in the ebb and flow.

How many dams have I built tear? Ask your heart, tear answered, she knows and she will work with you to open the channels of your stagnant rivers so that they may run freely to once again nourish the heart and soul of life.

Men do cry and this was not my first tear and nor will it be my last, but it was one I felt had come from the heart.

Love to you all

Matt

 

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