Tears of joy

I am exhausted. I have been for over a week now. Physically, mentally, spiritually wiped out. I can barely keep my eyes open. Well, okay, I just woke up, and while I plan to crawl back into bed as soon as I'm done writing this, I am awake enough to sit down and write for a bit. Because while it's true that I am exhausted, I also feel a need to communicate, to shout out from the mountaintops how wonderful is this thing called Life. On this gloomy, grey and drizzly day, I can't help but see how much beauty there is in this world of ours. I feel a little punch-drunk. I feel a little gaga. I am one the verge of tears and laughter all at once. I am overwhelmed with emotion, and I want to share it with humanity. Somehow. Some way.
I have been wanting, for over a week now, to ball myself up in a fetal position, and just cry, cry, cry. I want to cry out of sadness. I want to cry out of relief. I want to cry out of joy and surprise and love, so much love. But I haven't had the time to cry, I haven't had the space. Last weekend, I had to hold myself in to allow another's tears to pour freely. And this week, I had to keep it together so as to be a good hostess. And yesterday, well hell, I spent the day at a birthday party, which wasn't mine, and so I had no right to just cry if I wanted to. And truthfully, as the days have gone by this week, the need to cry has been less and less. My feelings of joy and pure relief have surpassed my feelings of sadness and guilt. But I realized yesterday, as I was talking to Zoe on a drive on one of the islands, that my need to cry has shifted. I realized that I want to cry because I am feeling so much love, so much love, and I am surprised by my capacity for love, I am surprised by its power over me. I want to cry because I am responsible for creating something beautiful, something divine, and I never thought I could be the cause of such beauty. I want to cry because I am so very proud of my family and their ability to surprise me. Who woulda thunk...
Last weekend, I broke my mother's heart. I believe I actually shattered it, into a million pieces. For a time, I felt like the absolute worst person in the world. I mean that. I felt guilty and selfish and undeserving of her love. For a time. And then, I watched as my mother picked up the pieces and put them back together into a heart that had almost doubled in size. And I knew that I had given her a gift greater than any I'd given before.
Last weekend, I feared for a moment that my father might come to hate me. For a time. Instead, my father threw his arms around me and told me that he was proud of me. That I had done a good, good thing, and that this goodness should be shouted from the mountaintops. My father surprised me in the most wonderful way, by showing me that his love always has room to push aside fear or doubt or long-held assumptions in order to make way for joy.
Last weekend, I was able to share with the people I love most, the people I need most, a most wonderful secret. I didn't know, until the weight of this secret was lifted, how heavy it had been to carry. I didn't know just how much I needed them to accept this secret as a gift and not as a burden. I didn't know just how badly I needed their approval. But I did, oh yes, I did. And not only did I receive their approval, I received their joy.
And I am so happy. Yet, all the same, I want to cry. I have had a lump of sobs churning in my chest all week long. Each time I talk about last weekend, each time I think of my mother's tears and her glowing smile, each time I think of my father wanting to pop open a bottle of champagne, I want to cry. But mostly, what I am realizing, is that I am feeling, for the first time, the true impact of the choices I have made. Now that this secret is out, now that I am no longer battling my desire to protect my parents from my choices with my desire to scream out how proud I am of these choices, I am now able to feel just what I am feeling, without layering it with my concerns for what others might feel. And I am feeling...overwhelmed. Overjoyed. Over-the-moon. And it's a lot to take. I am on a journey that I could not prepare for. Decisions made years ago have taken shape in a way that surprises me. All of the things I have logically understood have now been side-swiped by all of the emotions that defy logic, defy understanding. I am not a person who fears emotions. Quite the contrary, I thrive on emotions! I welcome them in and look for ways to magnify them! But these emotions of the past week, well, these are a whole new breed. And I am reveling in them, yes, but I feel like I'm at their mercy. Hence, I am exhausted. Beautifully, wonderfully exhausted.
And for the first time this week, I can cry. I have no guests to entertain, no birthday girl to celebrate, and all day long, I have no place to be. This lump in my throat can finally be let loose, and I can curl up in a ball and cry myself silly and become a slave to my emotions and not censor them in any way. To some, this must sound like punishment. For me, this is a gift. A wonderful gift to myself. I embrace this opportunity. And I can hold it back no longer. I want to let go of all logic and all thoughts of what's proper for a grown woman to express. I want to be entirely selfish and do nothing but feel the vastness of my emotional reserves. I can tell you, it will be awesome.
See you on the other side.