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which left me feeling empty, and battered and plain old used.

I cried because there really does come a time when the only thing left for you to do is cry.

Yesterday, I cried.

I cried because little boys get left by their daddies;

and little girls get forgotten by their mommies;

and daddies don’t know what to do, so they leave;

and mommies get left, so they get mad.

I cried because I had a little boy, and because I was a little girl, and

because I was a mommy who didn’t know what to do, and

because I wanted my daddy to be there for me so badly until I ached.

Yesterday, I cried.

I cried because I hurt. I cried because I was hurt.

I cried because hurt has no place to go

except deeper into the pain that caused it in the first place, and when it gets there, the hurt wakes you up.

I cried because it was too late. I cried because it was time.

I cried because my soul knew that I didn’t know

that my soul knew everything I needed to know.

I cried a soulful cry yesterday, and it felt so good.

It felt so very, very bad.

In the midst of my crying, I felt my freedom coming,

Because

Yesterday, I cried

with an agenda.

The Beginning

IT WAS HAPPENING. I had seen myself on television before, but not like this. I had never been on a mainstream national television show until now. This was special. This was big! This was the culmination of sixteen years of hard work, of three years of waiting for a producer to get back to me, and an entire day of filming. The results: one twelve-minute segment about my life and my work on CBS Sunday Morning. It felt great! Definitely something to celebrate. Instead of throwing a party, I felt awful, dishonest, like a fraud. I guess that’s why I began to cry as the music began, heralding the start of the program. These tears were quite different from the tears I cried the day the segment was filmed.

Throughout our many experiences of life, we cry different kinds of tears. What we are probably not aware of is that each type of tear emanates from a specific place in the body, and that each type has certain distinct characteristics. We may realize that shedding tears at certain times will have a particular effect upon us and those around us. What we are probably less conscious of is that each tear, regardless of its origin, or its effects, contains a seed of healing.

Angry tears spill forth from the outside corner of the eye, making them easier to wipe away as they come at unexpected moments and inappropriate times. They originate in the ego—the part of our being that presents to the world who we think we are. Angry tears create heat and stiffness in the body, because when we are angry, we usually don’t know how to express what we feel. We definitely don’t want anyone to know when we are angry, because anger is not acceptable or polite. Rather than display anger, we hold back, and the tears rage forth, shattering our self-image. More important, angry tears reveal to those around us our vulnerabilities. This, we believe, is not a wise thing to do.

I cried angry tears the day the CBS film crew came to my home. I had just moved into a new house. I had very little furniture to fill the empty spaces in my large home. The garage was full of boxes, one of which contained the outfit I had planned to wear. It was an unmarked box that I could not find. I was also angry because my new mother-in-law was on her way to our home, and I had no place for her to sleep. What would she think of me? I thought I was angry because I had waited so many years for the segment to be filmed, and now that it was happening, I didn’t feel ready. I realized that I was angry because I didn’t have the courage to tell the segment producer or my manager that I wasn’t ready to film the show. I wasn’t ready because I didn’t feel worthy. I cried because one of my favorite news correspondents was coming to my empty home, two days before Thanksgiving, and I couldn’t locate four plates that matched. What would he think of me? I was angry because I felt so vulnerable,