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Catharsis Redux

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It has always been a source of strength for me. The ability to cry. To allow myself the cathartic expression of emotions that seems to purge my being of pain and grief. And of the disjointed emotions of life that come upon me as I pass through the world. I use crying to wring the detritus of sorrow from my heart, and it completes me. Once again.

Never in my childhood, or even beyond, was I ever admonished to refrain from weeping. It seemed to always be a valid and necessary way to handle overloaded senses and feel renewed and refreshed. I was aware that boys and men were told that crying was a weakness. But it was not part of my milieu. Not in my family nor among my cohort in school. Not even in the world at large, that touched me.

From an early age I could use the media that impinged upon my sphere to relieve myself of stress, or sympathize and empathize with the persons I watched on the big screen. I cried at The Red Balloon when I first saw it at a drive in movie in the Mojave Desert. It was a short film, made in France, and as a child of about ten I could understand the loss and hope found in this Academy award winning short.

Later I can recall weeping softly along with Queen Guinevere in the movie Camelot. And I felt the complete waste and irrelevance of the First World War in the movie Oh, What A Lovely War. I could understand and empathize with the grief and pain the characters felt, and could hope and resolve that I would not take part in such a farce myself.

There has to be a good reason that we evolved to cry. Don't you think? All of our emotions and responses to life have come about through the evolutionary process. I believe this. Even better, I have studied it, and the science bears me out. Weeping relieves something within us that could tear us asunder if allowed to lay dormant, or repressed.

I am listening to Youtube now. I often do so because it allows me to listen to music that soothes my soul, and relieves the burdens my body and spirit have accumulated while simply living. I can select the rhythms that pierce me deeply, and the melodies that bring forth the catharsis once more. Catharsis redux. It is good.

Try it sometime. It will touch your heart. It will wash out the dread and sorrow. Perhaps even elate and enlighten you, if you let it. I know it does my body good.

As I listen to Samuel Barber's Adagio for Strings I can already sense the tears begin to well up in my eyes. I will stop now, and allow his masterpiece to take control of my emotions.

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Written by Survivor
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