Dear Friends,
Having just driven six hours home from Raleigh after visiting my newborn niece, I thought I would make a grocery stop on my way home to pick up dinner for Gail and me.
I had been listening to a classical music station on my radio to pass the time on my journey home. As I turned into the store’s parking lot, a violin and orchestra piece composed by Ralph Vaughan Williams came on. It filled the car with such sweetness that I found tears springing to my eyes. Even though I arrived at my destination, it seemed like the music and my fatigue after a long drive were inviting me to be still and let go.
So, I found a parking space under a tree. I rolled up my windows and turned off the engine, but kept the battery engaged. I sat in my vehicle’s quiet sanctuary while The Lark Ascending played for almost fourteen minutes. I could feel my heart breaking open as the violin notes soared upward and the orchestra burst with fullness. Before I knew it, I was having a good cry right there in front of Whole Foods.
I cried because I had held a new baby just the day before and it had felt so good. I cried because I missed my dog Lucy and could see her, alive and frolicking, in my mind. I cried because the afternoon sky was a soft gray and bare branches of the young maple tree were slender and lovely as they waved gently in the breeze near my window.
Victor Hugo wrote “Those who do not weep, do not see.” I hadn’t thought about tears providing a clearer view into those places of beauty and meaning around us and within us. As I wiped my eyes and blew my nose, I did indeed feel like the music and my tears helped me see in that moment the magnificence of my life. I was brimming full.
Eventually, the last note was played and I turned the key in the ignition to “Off.” I checked my tear-stained face in the rear view mirror, deemed it acceptable, and exited my car, making my way to the line of shopping carts at the store’s entrance.
It was a good cry . . . and a good day.
Warmly,
Terry