Day 480: A good cry (and a half pie)

I believe in the power of a good cry.  That is, when you are sad, disappointed, dealing with loss, tears are appropriate, people!

I don’t care what judgmental things you have heard or thought about crying ! It’s good for you. Crying releases endorphins and has other health benefits. Look it up!

In my work as a psychotherapist, I often see people who judge their feelings and expressions of sadness.  They tell me that crying is:

  • A sign of weakness.
  • Something to hide.
  • Only appropriate for children.

I hear that from women AND men (though men, indubitably, get more negative messages about crying in my culture).

I do my best, at work, to provide a “safe enough” place to cry.  For example, I have lots of tissues available. Plus, I work really hard at communicating these passionate beliefs: Crying is

  1. human,
  2. a natural response to loss and hurt, and
  3. NOT a reason to feel ashamed.

People, after they have cried in my office, are often afraid that others, outside, will be able to tell, and judge them for that. I am always happy to tell them that the tracks of their tears are NOT as obvious as they fear.  Think about it: if you saw somebody walking around with eyes that had been recently weeping, would you know they’d been crying?  I think not, with so many other reasonable explanations available (including seasonal allergies, these days).

So why am I writing about this, today?

Well, I must confess:  I am feeling some sadness and discouragement about my health. And earlier this morning, I cried.

And I  feel a little better.

I don’t have any photos of myself crying (for several reasons), so …

Let’s see what Google Images has for “Good Cry” on this beautiful spring morning!

In order of appearance:

download (19)

(I found that image here)

 

download (20)

(I found that image here

 

Good Cry

(I found that image here)

 

tumblr_m52vx0YfG91r9c569o1_400

(I found that image here)

 

Wow!  I’m  glad that so many people agree with me, so publicly.

Now, you may be thinking, at this point, “Okay, Ann’s dealt with the whole good cry thing, for sure, but what about that half pie, in the post title?”

Excellent observation and question, dear readers.

Here’s your answer:

During one of my few, recent ventures outside (as I’ve been recovering from pneumonia), my bf Michael and I paid a  short visit to our local Whole Foods Market. I am always aware of new products and marketing trends during such trips, since I am quite fascinated by things I have not seen before.

During that visit to Whole Foods, I noticed these new things:

  • Sweet potato yogurt (not pictured)
  • Carrot yogurt (not pictured)
  • And a new pie delivery system, as follows:

photo (98)

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, Whole Foods Market is now selling half pies.

Perhaps entire pies can feel too overwhelming.

Hmmmm. Now that I think of it, maybe my cry, this morning, wasn’t a full portion, either.

I predict the following: more servings of cries AND pies, in my near future.

And it’s all good!

Thanks to Megan Amram, Lori Meyer, daveswordsofwisdom.com, and bekahmarie8 (for the images); to Whole Foods (for the pie and other food innovations); to all those who are dealing with sadness and loss the best they can; and to you — of course! — for visiting today.

Categories: inspiration, personal growth | Tags: , , , | 47 Comments

Post navigation

47 thoughts on “Day 480: A good cry (and a half pie)

  1. When my daughters were infants, I refused to use a soother. My belief was that putting a soother in their mouth every time they cried was like saying — your tears are wrong. Don’t feel your emotions…

    My eldest daughter cries easily. My youngest, not so much.

    And I still feel that soothers are awful!

    Tears are great.

    At a presentation I was giving on story-telling the other night, a young woman started to share the story of the photographs she was taking, and began to cry.

    I knew I shouldn’t speak, she said, and explained hesitantly the source of her tears.

    I told her I appreciated her tears. You are speaking from your heart. Your tears are beautiful.

    We are so afraid of tears. LOL — telling on myself, I have a ‘truism’ about me I often repeat — I don’t cry in public.

    After reading your post I’ve decided to quit making that my truth.

    Thanks for the inspiration Ann — and for being vulnerable. Hugs

  2. I think the half-pie idea is great, especially since you have to take out a loan to get a full pie at Whole Foods. My non-pie take: crying is a physiological necessity, it’s how the body processes extreme emotional states both good and bad. As a father of kids 6, 8 and 10 I’m crying all the time, mostly for good reasons–and as a son of a mother whose been wrestling with Alzheimer’s for seven years and a dad who’s lost much of his vision and control over his life in that time period, I have my share of moments in that regard too. Crying is pretty much just a signpost that you’re acknowledging that bend in the path.

    I hope that pie was good. If you’re not gonna eat the rest…

    • You can’t have the pie, Jeff, I’m sorry. I feel very selfish saying that, after partaking of this delicious and very nourishing comment from you.

  3. Sometimes I feel like a waterfall, Ann, the way the tears seem to come involuntarily. I have my bandana-style handkerchief at the ready, always, at movies, at home … wherever something is apt to get the little drips streaking. And I wipe, not really caring that it is obvious.

    I hope your cry helped your mind and soul.

    Now, onto half-pies. Several supermarkets have been selling that way here, and it’s part of the big plot against smaller households, as far as I’m concerned … half the pie at three-quarters of the price!

    • Those half-pies are something else to cry about, huh? Mark, I’m so glad you shared your tears, keen observations, and kind wishes here today.

  4. The Dancing Rider

    Aside from crying at any slightly sad, happy, or cute movie/show, it’s a regular release. And necessary for me. I find myself thinking “Other people have things so bad, and have so many challenges, why I am I crying?”. I guess for me the answer is that situations are relative, and whatever I’m experiencing at any given time can be the universe for me.

  5. well said – very rich post!!

    and I agree – sometimes a good cry or “tears are appropriate…” 🙂

  6. Did you know that pi divided by two is 1.570796326794896619? In other words, half a pi is GREATER than one. Bigger, I’m not so sure of. But greater, yes.

    I wonder what half a cri is?

    • Well, let me put it this way: Half a “cri” definitely involves at least part of an “r”, no matter how you cut it. And we know that pi and r have an important relationship.

      Voila!

      Thank you for this mathematically (and otherwise) impressive comment.

  7. Just like Louise, I don’t like crying in public. It’s funny how the tape recorder in my head keeps telling me it’s weak.

    • A lot of people have that tape recorder, Diana. You are not alone. But … what’s the worst that could happen if you DID cry in public?

      Believe me, I’ve done that and survived, quite nicely.

      Thank you for this strong comment, today.

  8. As proof of my own particular brand of oddity, is it weird of me that one of the things I liked most about this post is that you used the word “indubitably” in a sentence? Sorry, but I just love those seldom-used words, and how they flow off the tongue, sounding like tinkling sweet music filling the air. 🙂

    As for crying, I’ve noticed of late that I seem to be experiencing what I describe as spontaneous crying, in that there seems to be no bridge between the emotional response and the tears. Having spent the majority of my life holding back my tears (for varying reasons), I think this new chapter of spontaneous crying is evidence that I am in a healthier place, in the overall sense. These days I’m liable to shed a tear when I’m sad, melancholy, nostalgic, moved by beauty, touched by tenderness, or even overwhelmed with happiness. All good reasons to shed a tear or two. I’ve noticed that allowing the tears to flow has the effect of providing a soothing release, as opposed to holding back the tears and storing all that unexpended energy inside, where it invariably finds some other form of release. A few tears shed spontaneously is almost like an investment in my overall health and well-being. I’m not even concerned that it happens more frequently than I expected … while watching a movie, or reading something on the computer, for instance. I just try to step out of the way of my objections, and allow the spontaneous nature of the tears to be expressed. So far, this plan seems to be working.

    I think I learned that tears were a sign of weakness when my abusers were causing me harm, in that my tears were a visible marker that they had taken me past my tolerance point, so I learned how to avoid tears, no matter what was happening to me. Later in life, I carried forward that mistaken idea of tears being a sign of weakness, so I kept my tears tightly suppressed, never allowing myself the luxury of crying. Nowadays, I think I’m either no longer worried about being strong, or I’ve gained confidence in the idea that tears are healthy, and I have absolutely no qualms about allowing the tears to flow. In fact, I’ve even noticed that when I am caught somewhat unawares by spontaneous tears, I tend to take a moment to acknowledge the truth behind the thoughts or feelings, and then I consciously make a decision to step into the tears, rather than suppress or move away from them. I give them room.

    • Indubitably, it is not weird of you, at all, to notice that word. Indeed, I was very aware of own pleasure in using it, and I am gratified that you joined me there.

      As for the rest of what you wrote, thank you for all the beautiful and rich music you shared with us today. I am honored and grateful that you read and comment as you do.

  9. I am extremely good at crying if you need a buddy!

  10. Crying does help at times . Ann ,you show great courage everyday by sharing your experiences and views , don’t feel discouraged .You will get better soon 🙂 .
    I too cried a little today . I hate interviews and had one today . I was very nervous and afterwards I just wanted to hide away and cry .

  11. Willy Nilly

    Interestingly, wee dragons don’t cry much, but when they do, It smokes up the whole house. I was raised with fist to head that boys don’t cry. And when I did anyway, I was warned I would wear a pink dress to school since I chose to cry like a girl. That was a long time ago and things have changed, thankfully. But still, I never let go unless I am safely secured away from anyone and have plenty of time to recover. I think I’ll try Cry-N-Pie at the next opportunity. I probably have a lot of catching up to do. I think I’ll buy a whole pie. Loved the post. Not once, while reading this, did the awful specter of the pink dress raise its head.

    • I am so glad to hear that the awful specter did not haunt you today. Maybe it will never return! Wouldn’t that be wonderful? I love this comment, Willy Nilly.

      • Willy Nilly

        Thank you Ann. The exorcism worked and it took you less than a few minutes. Also, living with five girls (3 generations) in my house has not only made crying an expected right of passage, but I find pink dresses beautiful when worn by the right person. I exclude myself, naturally. 🙂

  12. Laughing and crying are critically important…but, of course, there’s no crying in baseball (except when you’re a Cub’s fan, like me). Either way, your post was encouraging, informative, full of compassion and entertaining, as always (which makes us all very happy)…along with being very appetizing this time. I love a good blueberry pie! Hmmmm…where can I go find a good (half) pie right about now…? Blessings.

  13. Pingback: Day 481: The opposite of a good cry | The Year(s) of Living Non-Judgmentally

  14. I always feel better after a good cry (well depending on the level of hurt I’m going through…sometimes a good cry might end simply because you tired of crying…but eventually it helps). My philosophy is very tied to us being biological beings and thus feeling emotional pain is just a different type of “sickness” (not really happy with that word). My point being is that I liken crying to sneezing or coughing. People think sneezing or coughing is bad, but it’s actually your body trying to expel what it doesn’t want. Crying, to me, is just another way in which your body is trying to expel what it doesn’t want. So say let it out. Crying is just an emotional sneeze. 🙂

  15. Brava Ann! This is so yummy – both the crying and the half pie! As a yoga teacher I am very away of the life energy that is in us that can be released through tears.
    Tears of sadness, tears of joy are tears of release and an expression from our very being.
    Val x
    Got to get to Whole Foods now!

  16. I’ll take the pie, but not the cry. I feel so miserable physically after I cry that emotionally I’ve just added to the burden. But to each his or her own!

    • Exactly, Elyse! We can choose the kind of pie and anything else we know, about what helps us personally. Thanks so much for the visit and the comment.

  17. I’m pretty sure I had pneumonia in November that was diagnosed as an upper respiratory infection. I was finally diagnosed with pneumonia two months later and the recovery is tedious and ongoing. And intensely draining. I think you have to let mind and soul submit to sickness so the emotional healing can begin. I cried and ate two fried chicken legs this morning.

    • Thank you for sharing your experience; that helps me get a better sense of what to expect. I appreciate all that you brought here: insights, crying, chicken legs, and all.

  18. Your post came in on a day (yesterday) when I did “give in” and have a good cry! I actually felt better after it and today the pain I have been battling has largely disappeared. Crying can work 🙂

    • I am glad to hear that the pain has largely disappeared, dear Elizabeth. Thanks so much for the visit and the comment today.

  19. Pingback: Day 612: Not the only one | The Year(s) of Living Non-Judgmentally

  20. Pingback: Day 662: Flooded | The Year(s) of Living Non-Judgmentally

  21. Pingback: Day 665: Smiles | The Year(s) of Living Non-Judgmentally

  22. Pingback: Day 727: Guess what I did | The Year(s) of Living Non-Judgmentally

  23. Pingback: Day 787: Relief | The Year(s) of Living Non-Judgmentally

  24. Pingback: Day 1101: It was so cold | The Year(s) of Living Non-Judgmentally

  25. Pingback: Day 2033: Good Bye | The Year(s) of Living Non-Judgmentally

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Blog at WordPress.com.

%d bloggers like this: