Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Some of the Things That Make Me Cry

Before I had a near-death experience, then, I could never cry. My wife would ask me, “why don’t you cry?”
I didn’t cry at my dad’s funeral, or my grandmother’s or grandfather’s funeral. Or when I knew my wife was sick or from the joy at seeing the birth of my kids. I just couldn’t cry. I didn’t know how.
I grew up holding in my emotions. My brain was not hard-wired for crying. The only time I remembered crying was as a child in moments of extreme pain or anger.
Now I cry and am moved to tears often. And they are not tears of sadness; when I am flooded with immense bliss, I cannot help but cry.
Sometimes I will cry at the site of a bird, or hearing my children’s laughter, or hearing a great piece of music, or sitting in church, or watching an inspirational show, or simply reading about some of my heroes: Whitman, Jesus, Buddha, Poe, Beethoven, Yogananda, Dr. Seuss, Fellini. Or when I simply think of Mahavatar Babaji, I am moved to tears. I cannot help it. The mere thought of Babaji crushes me.
I cried recently when a friend mentioned his enjoyment of Lao Tzu’s work or when another friend discussed the Dalai Llama.
I recall going to see Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony performed by the L.A. Philharmonic and when I was sitting in the audience, without a single note being played, I couldn’t help but weep uncontrollably because of the incandescent meaning of the great master’s work -- one man’s connection and inspiration directly from God, expressed with such profound and infinite clarity and brilliance.
My family still doesn’t fully accept the fact that whenever I hear “Moonlight Sonata”, tears will unfailingly run down my cheeks. It is even a running joke when we go for long drives, they will sneak in the CD and wait for the tears to flow.
I can only describe the feeling as being “overwhelmed by the immensity of the divine” or a deeper love that fills me up with an all-pervading sense of joy and beauty in creation.
These are not tears of sadness. I cry because I feel touched deeply by something I can’t describe that moves me beyond description.
I cry because, for a brief instant, I feel in touch with the ETERNAL. I feel in touch with whatever it is, way out there, across the universe, that is also right underneath my nose.
You will know you are close to acquiring a heart of compassion when you see a bird and can’t help but weep or when you think of Jesus and his immense sacrifice and feel it deep in the pit of your soul. When a child laughing and running at the park takes you back to a time when you were closer to who you really are, and closer to God.
Some of the other things that make me cry now, not in any particular order are: the sparkle in my wife’s eyes; my daughter’s laughter or singing; watching my son play sports; attending mass or visiting a church, temple or synagogue; listening to certain music, usually classical (esp. Beethoven’s Ninth and Moonlight Sonata); seeing a parent’s love for their child; watching a bird or small animal; seeing emotional movies; hearing “The Star Spangled Banner” sung at sporting events; passages in books, mainly Walt Whitman’s “Leaves of Grass” (esp. Song of Myself, number 20); some of Jack Kerouac’s poetry; seeing the look of wonder in my son’s or daughter’s eyes when they watch a butterfly or a hummingbird or a horse run through a meadow or fish swimming in a stream; a sunset; watching the crowds of people go by at the mall or at the fair and feeling their struggle and sorrows and just wanting to take it all away...

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