Why Do We Cry?

So Christmas was awesome. My husband had to work, so I decided to enjoy a day in the city.

But first, my Christmas gifts:

Yes, my husband and I totally believe in indulging our inner children. I couldn't have been happier. Do you know how much courage it must have taken for a grown ass man to walk INTO a Hello Kitty store, first of all? And then actually WALK OUT with that? Come on, the man is a saint.

Anyway, back to the city, so yeah... Christmas is like New Year's Eve in America. It's actually considered a big date night. Folks dress up and walk around and look festivally sexy and stuff. And depending on where you live, you may have to pre-order your Kentucky Fried Chicken bucket WAY in advance of Christmas because of sheer demand.

Yeah, that's right. Everyone wants to have a Kentucky Christmas (as they say here).

Really. I'm not joking.

So, of course, I had to bring some home, much to my husband's delight.

And I bought him this, too:

Just kidding. I WANTED to, though. But he might try to be funny and put that thing on in bed one night and scare the hell out of me or something.

But anyway, back to the city... And by the way, there was this robot moving, walking, rolling around or whatever and I don't know why. It looked like no one else knew why either, judging from the looks Homeslice received.

So yeah, the whole commericalism thing---in the midst of all that, guess what emerged?

An actual contemporary African American-styled GOSPEL choir. In the middle of the mall. REAL Christians (with blinged-out crosses and everything!) . Singing their hearts out with joy and like I said before, I don't subscribe to religion. But Christianity is my roots, my home, my family, my heritage and so hearing the sounds of Donnie McClurkin immediately brought tears to my eyes.

So they're singing in praise and I'm walking through the mall visibly crying at this point and that's when I decide to just give it up and plant my ass in front of the gospel choir so at least my crying in public will look a little less....insane.

So I merge in with the crowd, who is appreciative but strangely quiet and immobile and I remember, yes of course, they don't know anything about this, do they? I remember a (Japanese) friend of a friend asking me once at a party, "Why do people cry when they sing in church?"

I said, "Huh?"

She repeated with the utmost sincerity and curiosity, "On TV. I see them. Why do they cry?"

There was no way I could answer that question. For her or for myself.

For me, it is the experience of being human combined with the hint that we are actually something quite more than that which simply bubbles up to the surface at that particular moment. Overwhelming me. Choking me. Freeing me.

It is Yearning, it is Guilt, it is Wonder, it is Awe, it is Sorrow, it is Grief, it is Pleasure, it is Gratitude, it is Union, it is Love so unexpected and frightening and intense.

It is Release. It is Realization. The brief awareness that far from the illusion of our individualness, we are all actually one and the same. That there is no you or me. That the delicateness of our existence is far more profound and beautiful and wondrous than we could ever know.

But how can you explain that?

Or the fact, that after such a metamorphosis of perception, that after such tranformation, Life simply goes on.

And that, after that, well... you get on the train with your KFC, try to read a little, get a wee nap in and you take your ass home to your husband.