in hac lacrimarum valle

I cry a lot. Those that know me personally are likely chuckling to themselves and nodding in agreement. They all know it to be true. And it's okay to laugh, I do too.  

It was something of a bad joke among friends my freshman year that you could not take me someplace without also taking along tissues because I cried every place we went. It was also something of a bad joke that one of the first things I gifted my boyfriend was a box of tissues because I knew I'd be needing them and the bachelor way of toilet paper just doesn't cut it for this tearful maiden. Toilet paper is for butts, not for faces, people. 

Crying, especially when one cries a lot, tends to be accompanied also with feelings of shame, fear and embarrassment. We are quick to label crying as a weakness and quick to assume that weaknesses are bad in every circumstance. But I think such judgments are simply incorrect. And I think that while we may cry when we would rather not, neither shame nor fear should accompany our tears when they fall. If you are a chronic crier, or even if your current state in life is a particularly sorrowful one, you should not be troubled by it. 

In Learning the Virtues that Lead you to God, and specifically in his chapter on forming the virtue of courage, Romano Guardini explains that courage begins with the acceptance of one's own existence. He writes that each man bears an "essential character," an array of providentially chosen qualities, quirks and the like that determine who each person is, how he operates in the world, and what he can accomplish, both favorable and unfavorable. And courage, in the first place, consists of accepting this essential character. Guardini is sure to mention that accepting is not equivalent to approving of all of one's own qualities and this seems to be an important qualifier to what could otherwise be misread as just another message of self-love. This means that we should be diligent in knowing and accepting our essential characters--both the things which are good and bad--but also be diligent in ordering what is disordered. To do so, according to Guardini, marks the beginning of a courageous person.

So whether you frequent the box of tissues or just visit occasionally, it does us good to accept these particular aspects of our essential characters. Here is an opportunity for our growth in virtue and it would be a shame to disregard it.

I'll always remember with gratitude my freshman year roommate who was instrumental in helping me learn that it was okay to cry, and even that it was okay to cry a lot. Her oft-quoted message was that "vulnerability fosters community" and this rang true time and again. She and I shared many tears over homesickness, stress, bad grades, and broken hearts in that first year and our friendship developed and deepened as a result. She was willing to be vulnerable with me, but also welcomed my vulnerabilities. This went a long way in teaching me that my tears were not bad, shameful, or wrong. There is a lot of good that comes when we welcome others as they are. 

Then in my sophomore year, I was exposed to Thomas Aquinas' articles on the passions and was greatly moved by his treatment of sadness itself, but especially by his remedies for sadness. He gives 5 recommendations for remedying sadness: contemplating truth, conversing with sympathetic friends, taking a nap or bath, engaging in some pleasure, and crying. Though he explains that the greatest of these is to engage in the contemplation of truth, Aquinas does not neglect to promote the others as suitable--even if only temporary--palliatives for sorrow. Not surprisingly, my favorite of these remedies was crying and I ate up his words about how tears and groans do the sorrowed soul good because it externalizes the sadness. Aquinas writes "a hurtful thing hurts yet more if we keep it shut up, because the soul is more intent on it: whereas if it be allowed to escape, the soul's intention is dispersed as it were on outward things, so that the inward sorrow is lessened" (I-II q. 38.a. 2). This was an important realization for me.

I've shared Aquinas' little tidbit of practical wisdom many times, encouraged many a person to cry as they need to, and seen the fruits thereof. Just as food is good for the hungry, medicine is good for the sick, friendship is good for the lonely, we should also recognize that crying is good for sorrowed souls. 

Funny thing is, I've been so stuck on this point --that crying is a remedy for sadness and that it can be so good and beneficial for us-- that I never much considered the fact that the heavenly home for which we were created is where all our tears will turn to dancing, where our mournings will be comforted, where our weeping and lamenting will turn to joy. 

I was reminded of this last week when we celebrated the feast of the Ascension of our Lord. We were reminded on this day of Christ's entrance into Heaven and reminded that where He has gone, we are to follow for the fulfillment of our ultimate human desire. This is our end goal--Heaven is our end goal. And I don't know how the heck I manage to forget that, but damnit, I forget it a lot. 

Crying is good and healing for the the soul and I believe this very strongly. I'll keep on crying and encouraging others to do the same as is fitting. But I'm working to keep it at the forefront of my mind that tears are only meant for our present, earthly life. This world is where we are pilgrims, not where we are home. So let us fix our tear-filled eyes upon the Eternal and pray that we may someday reach our Heavenly destination.