Need a Good Cry? I Certainly Did.

This week, I listened to a song, and it brought tears to my eyes.  I was not surprised.  I am almost always brought to tears listening to "Hope for Resolution" ⁽¹⁾  from the album "Christmas at Luther". ⁽²⁾  What I did not expect was how much better the tears made me feel. 

I have had a stressful week.  This is the sort of stress which causes one to get grouchy, say things one later regrets and then agonizes over, causing stress to heap upon itself.  Once I started looking at why crying was making me feel better, I realized that I had not yet internalized the remorse I wanted to feel about the way I had treated others.  I had also not given myself permission to feel bad about how I had been mistreated, and about the unfairness of life in the corporate world.  And so, when I heard this piece of music, and the tears welled up, as they typically do, those little droplets did double or triple duty.  They expressed my feelings about the music, but they washed the stress of unrealized sorrow away, as well.

This experience was an epiphany of sorts.  I realized that a good cry, or at least a few well timed tears, could help me deal with stress.  And I need as many stress reduction tools as I can get.  We all do, don't we?

Now, I am not the typical old fashioned male who thinks "Men don't (or shouldn't) cry."  I have cried on occasion.  My life is pretty good, so I don't have many reasons to cry -- at least not with tears of sorrow.  And, truth be told, things do not affect me emotionally as much as they affect others.  So, I have not experienced the cathartic nature of tears as often as some people have.  As I thought about the "Hope for Resolution" experience, then, I said to myself  "Perhaps this 'discovery' was more personal than I first realized."

You see, what seemed strange was that the "Hope for Resolution" tears were not really tears of sorrow, yet they clearly helped me deal with sadness.  "Hope for Resolution" is the final piece which was done in the Yuletide program, an annual Christmas concert at Luther featuring all of its classical music ensembles, in 2002.  That year, my oldest son, Adam, was a member of one of the choirs.  Now, the piece of music itself is powerful and moving; perhaps on its own, it might bring some people to tears.  For me, the musical beauty mixed with pride, nostalgia and love to create a powerful memory.  I was so proud to see Adam standing up in the choir loft, clothed in his tux, smiling and singing.  I felt nostalgic for my days in Luther choirs, and for the days when Adam was just a boy, not a young man.  And, of course, the love I feel for Luther College is quite strong, but small compared to the love I feel for Adam, and for the three children I have yet to send there. 

I associated tears with grief, or remorse, but here I was crying with joy and love.  Yet the "good feeling" tears helped wash away the stress of the "bad feelings" which were weighing me down.  I resolved to make a conscious effort to discover, and treasure, experiences like this.

And so, today, I am thankful.  Thankful for the piece of music, for the men and women who performed it, for the people and God who inspired it, and especially for Adam and my children, who added so much to its meaning for my life.


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⁽¹⁾ The piece "Hope for Resolution" was composed by Sean Ivory and Paul Caldwell.  It has a moving history, which can be found many places on the web.  Here is one of those places.
⁽²⁾ This album can be purchased from DJ Records, which has a collection of Luther College Choir music.

The Time of My Life - Perspective #1

Time.

"Now" is the only time. But it's already gone.

I have often thought about time. And when I typed the title "The Time of My Life" I realized I would have to differentiate this set of thoughts from others. [1]

We humans seem to have trouble with this particular aspect of time: we only have a limited supply of it, and once any part of it is gone, it is irretrievable. It is past, in two senses of the word.

So when we spend our time doing anything -- and I mean anything -- have we given any thought to what we will wish we had done with that time, once our time grows short?

Right at this moment, when I am writing this, I am deciding not to do other things. Will I wish, tomorrow or next week or next year or when I'm 64, [2] wish I had done something else with the time it took to write this?

Let's quantify it monetarily. In the time it takes to write this blog, I could go out to a brokerage site and buy 100 shares of some stock. A year from now, that stock will have done something. Because I spent time writing this, I did not get the gain, or take the loss, from that stock.

I have 400 pages of stories to read in "The Year's Best Science Fiction: 2003." I could pick up "Frankenstein" instead and try, once more, to get through it. Or I could go back to read "The Stand" again, which has been tempting since I saw the mini-series again recently. But I can't do all three at the same time. And once I've done any of them, will I wish I had been outside enjoying the natural world, or pushing myself to get in shape, or talking to my children -- will I wish any of these things when I'm nearer the end of my life?

Oh, sure, I could talk about "consequences" -- because "How" I spend my time certainly relates to the consequences of that "How." But the existential consequence is that I did not spend the time doing something else.

"Carpe Diem" is not just a motivational tool. It is an exhortation to realize that a mortal only has Now. Make a conscious choice to use your time, because you only get one chance. It isn't "gusto" you have to grab, necessarily. But there is something out there to be seized today. Take a moment. Think about what that "something" is, for you. Then Seize it!

[1](I also realized I can't think of that phrase without thinking of "Dirty Dancing" but that's a topic for another time.)

[12](Yes, another song. My life has a soundtrack.)