Oh I hope your final meeting with your friend went as well as it possibly could. It is never easy and I hope you give yourself plenty of space to shed some sacred tears.
Tears are indeed sacred and I need to cry quite often, but I need to be alone to really let it out and feel it, it’s not so much shame in crying, but I find almost any words of comfort or support can be disruptive to my process.
Having a big cry is almost like giving birth, I want no intervention however well meaning, if anything I want to be lovingly held on silence and to feel the permission in that silence
That makes perfect sense to me as sometimes being alone in our tears can allow us to express them more fully, especially when they are cathartic in nature. I love how you compare it to birth, it does have that quality of expressing something significant. And very much embodied! Also, it's lovely to get to know you on here and I look forward to reading your work!
As I was reading, I was wondering what you would think about the typical “don’t offer tissues” guidance that therapists are often given. And then you mentioned it! I never saw tissues as a problem, and hoped that my words conveyed to clients that tears were welcome (and the tissue is for the snot!)
This was an important read, thank you for sharing.
Isn't that guidance so interesting? I've had chaplain students who have left the room when faced with patient tears in an effort to go find tissues - which is one way of avoiding and escaping, so I understand the problem with that as a logistical act.
Instead I have the tissues out on the coffee table, so it sets the expectation that tears will be shed! (I also have a bowl of chocolate in my office, so that helps too!)
As an obstetrician-gynecologist, I have always been comfortable sitting with people crying. When my husband was diagnosed with cancer, I certainly cried. But often I found that I couldn't cry - the pain and shock were so deep that the tears wouldn't come. I find Substack to be the best antidote for trauma. Writing away my pain was one of the best things I ever did.
I'm so glad you chimed into the conversation, as you have both the personal and professional experience of these sacred tears. Tears as a caregiver is a whole other topic - mixed with many other feelings, burdens and blessings. I agree that writing can be so healing and glad that this has been a safe space for you.
This is so beautifully written. You weave words together so beautifully-I always feel so honoured when my clients cry and I get to hold that sacred space.
"Sometimes we are uncomfortable when other people are crying or going through something difficult. If we view tears as sacred, we might welcome them more. Invite yourself into the presence of divine trust. Consider it a gift that the person feels comfortable crying in front of you. Affirm that you are with them in the moment and can handle them being a sobbing, inconsolable mess."
I love this perspective. A little over a year ago, a new friend lost her husband to cancer. They were young, and it was very unexpected and quick. I was fortunate to be one of the very few who were called to her side the night it happened. We sat around her, and she wasn't crying a lot, but her grief just hung in the air and all around us. In those moments, and since that time, it's been such a growing experience walking through grief with her. It has felt very sacred, at moments even humorous as we traverse all the faces of vulnerability, search out all the ways of coping. Your post is such a lovely reminder that whatever is happening, the tears and the non-tears, is good and necessary.
Thanks for sharing your intimate experience of journeying alongside your friend in her grief. She is fortunate to have such a tender soul with her and it sounds like the experience is transformative for you as well.
Thanks for reading and commenting! I chuckled when I read your desciptor of yourself as a deeply emotional person - I am that way too - but in other words, I think we are just people who are paying attention to our feelings (compared to many I know who ignore/deny them!)
This is such a lovely and even important piece. I have been going through a redundancy process and the thing that upsets me most is crying in my meetings with HR. I feel humiliated by it. When my dad dropped us off as children after our very first visit after he split from us he said ‘don’t cry’, and his ‘why are you crying?’ to my mum the day her father died was the beginning of the end of their marriage. I wish everyone could read this and understand tears as sacred; be comfortable with them. Including me.
Oh I am there with you, crying at work can bring up so much shame, but it is such a natural response! (What would you say to a friend who did that? Sometimes that's my work-around to give myself more compassion) These messages that we get from such a young age are so easily internalized and then stick with us for years to come.
Blessings to you as you navigate the grief of your job loss. I know that's such a hard grief to work through and not always one that's recongized as such my society. This piece may be helpful to give a name to the loss you are experiencing - https://journeyingalongside.substack.com/p/loss-101
Christine, I am loving your writing. This one is filled with great thoughts to ponder - like wondering about what it would be like if tests were seen as a strength, rather than a weakness. I think we are getting there slowly, thanks to pieces like this, and voices like Brene Brown’s. The phrases you offer , where you write about what to say, when sitting with someone who is crying, are helpful, too. They are honouring and respectful and caring. I too, have heard the “ no tissue offers” warning, and I don’t go that far, either, when I’m sitting with families, kids, and moms, I work with. Kleenex is there, in the centre of my little round table, and so is my listening, some of the phrases you offered, and my patience. And often the tissues are just as helpful to me, too.
Oh thank you for reading and subscribing. I'm honored you found your way here and I look forward to reading your work too, as it sounds like we share many of the same sentiments. And of course I adore St. Brene and it delights me to be referenced in the same sentence as her. Your description of your round table with tissues makes me think we should all compare office pictures, as I bet they are set up very similarly! (I also have a big bowl of chocolate in mine - which just like the tissues is just as helpful for me too!)
I really like the approach of asking "Do you want to talk about it?" - will use that in the hospital. Usually when I'm crying, I just need space but this is a good invitation. Thank you Christine!
Let me know how it goes when you use that line! The patient/family member could still say, "no" if they want their own space, but it allows them the option of being listened to - and some find comfort in knowing the option is there, even if they don't take it.
I'm glad you found your way here, I'm guessing many of the posts will be familiar for you. I look forward to reading your work and living vicariously through you in Portugal!
I love this piece, Christine. I just completed the first half of my final year of Somatic Experiencing training yesterday and we talked there about how tears can also have a regulating effect on the nervous system. It's a beautiful act of power as the quote you offered says.
Take your time, Christine. Returning from even really good travel takes some time to settle into. How about if I reach out to you when I'm ready? No need to owe anything :)
Really beautifully written again Christine! Thanks for sharing your wisdom - my son is also a sensitive soul and I often have to resist my urge to nudge him away from his emotions. Your post is reminding me that his great ability to be vulnerable is actually a great strength.
What a touching piece about tears, Christine.
I'm sadly on my way to say goodbye to a dear friend.
I needed to read this ❤️
Oh I hope your final meeting with your friend went as well as it possibly could. It is never easy and I hope you give yourself plenty of space to shed some sacred tears.
So grateful for this piece, thank you.
Tears are indeed sacred and I need to cry quite often, but I need to be alone to really let it out and feel it, it’s not so much shame in crying, but I find almost any words of comfort or support can be disruptive to my process.
Having a big cry is almost like giving birth, I want no intervention however well meaning, if anything I want to be lovingly held on silence and to feel the permission in that silence
That makes perfect sense to me as sometimes being alone in our tears can allow us to express them more fully, especially when they are cathartic in nature. I love how you compare it to birth, it does have that quality of expressing something significant. And very much embodied! Also, it's lovely to get to know you on here and I look forward to reading your work!
💜💜
As I was reading, I was wondering what you would think about the typical “don’t offer tissues” guidance that therapists are often given. And then you mentioned it! I never saw tissues as a problem, and hoped that my words conveyed to clients that tears were welcome (and the tissue is for the snot!)
This was an important read, thank you for sharing.
Isn't that guidance so interesting? I've had chaplain students who have left the room when faced with patient tears in an effort to go find tissues - which is one way of avoiding and escaping, so I understand the problem with that as a logistical act.
Instead I have the tissues out on the coffee table, so it sets the expectation that tears will be shed! (I also have a bowl of chocolate in my office, so that helps too!)
As an obstetrician-gynecologist, I have always been comfortable sitting with people crying. When my husband was diagnosed with cancer, I certainly cried. But often I found that I couldn't cry - the pain and shock were so deep that the tears wouldn't come. I find Substack to be the best antidote for trauma. Writing away my pain was one of the best things I ever did.
I'm so glad you chimed into the conversation, as you have both the personal and professional experience of these sacred tears. Tears as a caregiver is a whole other topic - mixed with many other feelings, burdens and blessings. I agree that writing can be so healing and glad that this has been a safe space for you.
This is so beautifully written. You weave words together so beautifully-I always feel so honoured when my clients cry and I get to hold that sacred space.
Thanks Leona. It sounds like you are doing this holy work of welcoming tears of others well! Looking forward to reading your work!
"Sometimes we are uncomfortable when other people are crying or going through something difficult. If we view tears as sacred, we might welcome them more. Invite yourself into the presence of divine trust. Consider it a gift that the person feels comfortable crying in front of you. Affirm that you are with them in the moment and can handle them being a sobbing, inconsolable mess."
I love this perspective. A little over a year ago, a new friend lost her husband to cancer. They were young, and it was very unexpected and quick. I was fortunate to be one of the very few who were called to her side the night it happened. We sat around her, and she wasn't crying a lot, but her grief just hung in the air and all around us. In those moments, and since that time, it's been such a growing experience walking through grief with her. It has felt very sacred, at moments even humorous as we traverse all the faces of vulnerability, search out all the ways of coping. Your post is such a lovely reminder that whatever is happening, the tears and the non-tears, is good and necessary.
Krissy,
Thanks for sharing your intimate experience of journeying alongside your friend in her grief. She is fortunate to have such a tender soul with her and it sounds like the experience is transformative for you as well.
It truly is transformative! <3
Dear Christine, I'm so excited to be sharing your profound wisdom on PORCH this weekend ...
https://lindastoll.substack.com/p/post-147-13-remarkable-bookmarkables
Thanks so much for sharing and I am honored to be in such a remarkable link roundup!
As an deeply emotional person, I resonate with this and especially the practical nuggets you included.
Thanks for reading and commenting! I chuckled when I read your desciptor of yourself as a deeply emotional person - I am that way too - but in other words, I think we are just people who are paying attention to our feelings (compared to many I know who ignore/deny them!)
Beautiful piece and thank you. My last tears today, said I was tired and I needed to step back and take a breath and give myself some grace
Oh those tears of exhaustion creep up on me too! I hope you were able to listen to those tears and find some grace and space!
Thanks so much
This is such a lovely and even important piece. I have been going through a redundancy process and the thing that upsets me most is crying in my meetings with HR. I feel humiliated by it. When my dad dropped us off as children after our very first visit after he split from us he said ‘don’t cry’, and his ‘why are you crying?’ to my mum the day her father died was the beginning of the end of their marriage. I wish everyone could read this and understand tears as sacred; be comfortable with them. Including me.
Oh I am there with you, crying at work can bring up so much shame, but it is such a natural response! (What would you say to a friend who did that? Sometimes that's my work-around to give myself more compassion) These messages that we get from such a young age are so easily internalized and then stick with us for years to come.
Blessings to you as you navigate the grief of your job loss. I know that's such a hard grief to work through and not always one that's recongized as such my society. This piece may be helpful to give a name to the loss you are experiencing - https://journeyingalongside.substack.com/p/loss-101
Christine, I am loving your writing. This one is filled with great thoughts to ponder - like wondering about what it would be like if tests were seen as a strength, rather than a weakness. I think we are getting there slowly, thanks to pieces like this, and voices like Brene Brown’s. The phrases you offer , where you write about what to say, when sitting with someone who is crying, are helpful, too. They are honouring and respectful and caring. I too, have heard the “ no tissue offers” warning, and I don’t go that far, either, when I’m sitting with families, kids, and moms, I work with. Kleenex is there, in the centre of my little round table, and so is my listening, some of the phrases you offered, and my patience. And often the tissues are just as helpful to me, too.
Looking so forward to reading more from you!
Oh thank you for reading and subscribing. I'm honored you found your way here and I look forward to reading your work too, as it sounds like we share many of the same sentiments. And of course I adore St. Brene and it delights me to be referenced in the same sentence as her. Your description of your round table with tissues makes me think we should all compare office pictures, as I bet they are set up very similarly! (I also have a big bowl of chocolate in mine - which just like the tissues is just as helpful for me too!)
Love your opening paragraph under the quote! So true!
Oh thanks for saying that. I actually had that paragraph elsewhere and later moved it up, as that's the heart of what I was trying to say!
I really like the approach of asking "Do you want to talk about it?" - will use that in the hospital. Usually when I'm crying, I just need space but this is a good invitation. Thank you Christine!
Let me know how it goes when you use that line! The patient/family member could still say, "no" if they want their own space, but it allows them the option of being listened to - and some find comfort in knowing the option is there, even if they don't take it.
From a retired hospital chaplain, thank you for this…
I'm glad you found your way here, I'm guessing many of the posts will be familiar for you. I look forward to reading your work and living vicariously through you in Portugal!
I love this piece, Christine. I just completed the first half of my final year of Somatic Experiencing training yesterday and we talked there about how tears can also have a regulating effect on the nervous system. It's a beautiful act of power as the quote you offered says.
I wondered about regulation of the nervous system as I was writing this piece, but didn't know enough about it to include. That is fascinating!
Also, I know I owe you some times to meet, I'm still catching up on everything since coming back from vacation.
Take your time, Christine. Returning from even really good travel takes some time to settle into. How about if I reach out to you when I'm ready? No need to owe anything :)
Ha! Thanks for your graciousness. I am here to help give guidance on next steps whenever you are ready. Exciting times!
Really beautifully written again Christine! Thanks for sharing your wisdom - my son is also a sensitive soul and I often have to resist my urge to nudge him away from his emotions. Your post is reminding me that his great ability to be vulnerable is actually a great strength.
Yay for sensitive sons! It does take some focused parenting, that I do not always get right!
Also, I listened to your voice this morning on my commute and loved the remembering rituals you invited us to try on in your recent podcast episode.