Rick used to record movies at work and bring home the VHS tapes for us to watch. He’d recorded so many movies that I still have about 50 to watch even 15 months after he died. The Hallmark movies were typically my favorites, but inevitably he was the one to cry his way through them. Who didn’t cry through a Hallmark movie, right? The answer was…me. I was just not a crier. My lens tended to be one of intellect, rationality, and logic more so than one of compassion. This is not to say that I never cried at movies (Beaches, Pay it Forward, Jerry Maguire), but generally I approached movies with a sense of detachment.
Given Rick’s death, you might not be surprised to see me cry during movies especially when someone dies. But no! I don’t cry when people die tragically (perhaps my heart isn’t ready to go there yet?). Instead, I cry when people do nice things for one another, when they hurt, when they overcome impossible odds. I cry when watching movies or television, when listening to music, or when reading books. Something inside is moved, my world gets a little off kilter. What is this thing?
I realize crying is not necessarily a measure of compassion and crying about movies might not even count. But I also find that this reaction is new for me. I find this response is ever so slowly transferring to my response to people, whether I know them or not. What does all this mean? I don’t know but what I love about this new awakening is the positive effect it’s having on my relationships…ever so slightly, little by little.
Please do not read that I am a cold-hearted person or that I don’t care about the people I love. Please also don’t hear that I perceive myself to all of the sudden be the most compassionate person either. I am just acknowledging a possible change, a transformation.
“Oh, that my head were a spring of water and my eyes a fountain of tears! I would weep day and night for the slain of my people” (Jeremiah 9:1).
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