Public Display of Emotion

Yesterday I cried a lot. A whole big lot. Not "sobs", per say. Just large amounts of tears. It was nice actually. I needed to do it.

Unfortunately, I ran into a bit of a timing issue though, because Matt had taken the whole day off so I could get out of the house. And naturally, being a stay at home mom, I didn't want to spend my "day off" at home. And I really wanted to go to the thrift store. But I also really wanted to cry. Large amounts of tears.

What's a girl to do? Well if you're me, you just combine them!

So there I was, cruisin' through the mounds of fantastic thrifts, all the while wiping tear after tear as they fell. It was a very freeing experience for me, actually. I highly recommend it.

It wasn't, however, the most relaxing experience for the poor strangers around me. It made them feel something they didn't expect to feel in the thrift store, I think.
Most of them just smiled a genuine, kind smile as they walked by. Some had a look of concern. Some had a slight look of confusion, as if they were intruding on my privacy, but knowing they were in public. Others looked straight at me, and asked if I was OK. (to which I would just say, "Yes, thank you! I'm just havin' a good cry.") Then there were those who were clearly uncomfortable and would quickly find something they had to see on the next isle over, as if to "give me my space".

I found all of this to be a beautiful thing. Not one person walked away unaffected by my tears. They all reacted differently, but each person reacted to it in some way. It was as if even though I was a stranger, my tears struck a chord in them. They cared in some way. Maybe they wondered what I was going through... what was wrong? Maybe they related to my pain... there own hurts crossing their minds. Maybe they thought I was crazy... Who knows? But I was enjoying the diversity in their reactions.

And then there was this one man... "Mr. Fix-it" ,we'll call him. He needed to DO something. It was like I had sprung a leak and he was pilfering around in his emotional tool box to find the right wrench to "tightn 'er up". It was more than obvious that he wasn't interested in baskets, but he sort of "faked interested" so he could work up the right time to talk to me. Or encourage me. Or fix me. I don't know his intention, but whatever it was, I thought it was very kind.

Here's how that conversation went...
him: "Wow. The Thrift Store can be a little overwhelming... well I just mean there's so much stuff everywhere!" (awkward laugh...)
me: "Yeah."(smile)
him: "Are you finding some good stuff in here?" (fidgets..)
me: "Oh yeah.. too much, as usual." (smile)
him: "Thrift stores are the best, aren't' they?" (pause)
me: "Yeah, I love it." (smile)
*pause*
him:"Well... (pointing finger) You have a good day. Oh, and I hope you find some more good stuff!" (walking away)
me:"OK! Thanks, you too" (smile)

And interestingly, he did end up finding the "right wrench" because after that short verbal encounter, my tears dried up.

I love the human heart. I enjoy watching how we identify with and relate to each other. I was connected to these strangers, for a thousand unknown reasons, because of the public shedding of tears. I found it to be a good moment.

But maybe you had to be there...

Peace, Love, & all that Jazz....