I’ve cried in the library already twice this week, and when I saw the news that Taylor Swift’s mom has cancer, I teared up again. Where am I? Yes, the library.
Maybe it’s stress, maybe lack of deep sleep. Maybe I’m more emotional because I’ve been reading more – you know it’s an exercise in empathy, right? Either way, I’m prone to tears right now. Give me some especially good news, and the pipes may burst. Crush my spirit, and I’ll reach for a tissue. It’s just my reality right now.
It seems like a healthy way to go through life, to let the tears come when they may. I have successfully had a good cry at a study carrel twice without disturbing my fellow library-goers. It’s a skill, I’m telling you. Then you just dab at your face so your eyeliner doesn’t create scary tear lines down your cheeks, and you’re good.
I could teach seminars on this.
Some of the tears this week have been about plans that I had that can’t come to fruition now. It was disappointing. But I’m looking ahead because God is in my there, which is obviously not where I was hoping it’d be but it’s better.
I was thinking during one of my classes today, while I was having a hard time paying attention, about what my life will be like when I make it. I had a fleeting image of Fame, where there are pink neon lights. But most of our successes don’t happen like that, do they?
I switched gears and instead imagined sitting at a pretty desk (that I somehow manage to keep organized) in a dimly-lit room that has a well-placed window for thinking-staring. I pictured myself writing a true sentence, something that communicates a deeper truth than I even thought I knew. I think that’s making it for me.
It’ll be quiet, and maybe no one will even read the sentence at the moment, but that’s what it will look like.
And I’ll probably cry.