The other night, while watching a movie at home with my husband, I began to cry. It wasn't a drama, or a suspense film. No, it was just one of those formulaic date movies. It was late, the movie was nearly over, and I was grateful to slip into bed without having to compose myself. And while it wasn't that unusual for me to shed tears over a movie of this genre, it was unusual to give it any degree of follow-up thought. In fact, something clicked for me the next day. I reminded myself that in my day-to-day life, things come up all the time. In any given moment I may be temporarily rattled, angry, frustrated, overwhelmed, or all four at once. But in almost every situation, these things have short, manageable up and down cycles that rebound to a state of wellness, almost without effort (well, maybe a little effort:). This cycle plays out countless times, and occurs daily during arguments with my spouse and challenges from my children.
As for the movie, it wasn't sad, but it depicted a woman for whom things weren't quite coming together. So why did I cry? I understood that I cried for all those things in my life that I wish weren't so. For the most part, these things are outside my sphere of influence, otherwise I would label them regrets. I cried because I wish my parents hadn't divorced, and that I had no first hand knowledge of extramarital affairs and their aftermath. I wish that my mother hadn't died when she was 61 (and I was 22). I wish that my siblings wanted to know me in a meaningful way, and that all my attempts at closeness over the years actually led somewhere. These aren't exactly the sorts of things I like to spend time thinking about. I imagine most of us feel this way. But if a mediocre movie has to be an emotional trigger now and again, then I'll just go with it.
