We have made important things
Even those of us who do nothing to create it
Laugh at the jokes
Discount the truth
Roll our eyes
A child’s love for their parent
The misery created via tragedy
The seeking for something better
The pain everything can entail
We’ve made a joke of it
If it is genuine
I mean wow
We’ve even found a way (and not just A way but many ways) to make a joke out of sex – the most vulnerable, most alive, most real we can be with another human being, the truest form of love incarnate
A few years ago, a Cherokee medicine woman shared with me the meaning of white roses and tears.
“We never wipe away our tears; we are not ashamed of them.” She said.
On the Trail of Tears, many of our ancestors were shoved and pushed and made to walk, often times until they died. It is said that when their tears touched the ground, a white rose grew. Others say that the white roses grew to give the mothers strength.
Regardless, we never wipe away our tears. We are not ashamed of them. We do not stop ourselves from crying because of sorrow or joy.
Tears are not shame. They are pain, they are joy, struggles and hopes. We are human and we feel. If we do not feel the urge to hide our smiles, why should we feel it necessary to hide our tears?
I mean, when did human emotion become something we’re supposed to be ashamed of? That doesn’t make any sense to me.
(And just in case you’re wondering, there really are white roses growing along the Trail of Tears.)
Ironically, I never cry in public. I’d be too embarrassed. Tears are personal to me. But I no longer consider them something to be ashamed of.
(And don’t get annoying. I’m talking about sincere tears here, not people who are immature and cry over everything or to manipulate others.)