Unclaimed Tears

Who do these tears belong to? The ones that are filling the center of my chest with a feeling of emptiness and strangulation. I've searched my head for reasons but find none to justify the intensity of the dark stone that has anchored itself there.

I first recognized it during a sunny day. "Where did YOU come from?", I asked as I drove the familiar freeways home from work. My mind backstitched the day lifting up images of people or situations that may explain this presence. There were plenty of possibilities but none accounted for the circumference of dispair in the center of my chest.

True, I had recently breathed in various forms of hostility; person to person, religion to religion, culture to culture, candidate to candidate, manager to employee, customer to employee, family member to family member, all of which combined could create a spiritual tsunami. Could I be carrying a little bit of ALL of them? Had I allowed multiple energies from numerous sources to settle in me?

It has happened in me before. When Princess Diana died, I felt for weeks as if the tears of the world resided in me. A depth of emotion traveled through me as if I were a conduit for the global grieving souls who mourned her loss. I could not explain it nor let it go. I reached out for healing to move me through it. Throughout my personal herstory as the media pictures and stories of God's innocents lying bloodied, mutilated, lost and hopeless their eyes questioning the 'why' of their situation, (whether that occured as a natural disaster or human induced), I felt the stone of sadness then too.

But I know that looking for the WHY is so often an ugly and endless journey. Finding the answer to WHY too often ends in blame and finger pointing and conclusions of "if only". As in, "if only SOMEone or SOMEthing had been different, this tragedy would not have occured. Life is what it is. I find no satisfaction going down the road of who's responsible for this heaviness of heart. I'd rather
determine what to do to alleviate it.

For my own health, mental, physical and spiritual, I intend to cry. To let go of the tears of whoever is using me as a conduit to find an out to their sadness. Perhaps it will then provide release to whatever souls have reached across time and space to for someone to feel their pain, embrace their struggle and allow new light to shine in their hearts. Perhaps as they travel the highways of their lives they will feel that release and ask, "Now where did that come from?", and be content to embrace it with a smile.

And when my heart is lifted without mental reason, I will thank whomever is doing the same for me.