Nearly everyday I sit with people who cry. Some crying comes in the form of shaking-hug-yourself sobs and other comes in the form of watery eyes with Adam’s apples the size of golf balls to hold in the wails. And sometimes the cry brings itself out through clenched fists and a knee bouncing up and down, revealing an emotion which hints at an individual’s vulnerability to being a part of the human race.
All the tears I’ve seen shed, so far, could fill a small ocean. And the tears come from all shapes and sizes of people–from petite, pink lipped school teachers to burly brown tattooed thieves and drug addicts. And every single tear is considered as valuable to me as the small droplets of diamonds that they look like.
So we catch these translucent diamonds with a feather delicate tissue paper and we keep catching them until the tissue is so full that the tears drip from it.
And then the tears stop.
Just like that.
No magic is conducted by me either to start or stop the tears. Instead, it’s the miracle of the counseling process which continues to be refined and re-imagined by the creative mental health practitioners who have the (st)ability to sit in a room and be with another human being who is cleansing away dirt and debris from his or her soul.
It’s true that diamonds are formed under crushing pressure and intense heat. So the next time you feel one of those tear drop diamonds dripping down your face, know that it got there from your releasing the pressure you held on it and as it rolls away so, too, does a little bit of the grime of life that kept it encased within you.