The Crying of Men!

Please know that ScarredJoy posts are not all about having people agreeing with me. At times you may think I missed the mark on something. I do, however, want to have us journey together through things in life that may be uncomfortable, have us think and be real.

Such characteristics as being real with ourselves and others take time. Being real with our emotions, especially our expressions of sadness, is something we may have to learn as life confronts us with pain, brutality and life changing grief. This post encourages especially men to be real with their emotions.

A couple of weeks ago I was chatting online with a Facebook “friend.”  As a woman, my friend thought a consideration of how men process or express grief would be interesting to post. I got to thinking about my emotions as a man. A result of the chat led to this post. Specifically I am writing about men and crying.

I will never forget the sound. It has left an indelible picture in my mind. The wailing, the deep crying of a man standing by the headstone of someone he loved. He was on his own. Perhaps grieving the death of this loved one he felt even more alone. Grief can do that to a person. Grief can take the strongest of men and crush his spirit, at least for a while. Crying, unashamedly may help express the depth of emotional pain inside.

When I was a boy the culture of the time frowned upon crying in the case of boys and men. For a boy to cry, at least in front of people, was to act like a “lassie.” If a man cried he was supposed to calm it down as soon as possible.

As a Christian I admit, at least until recent years, much of the church community has contributed to minimizing the need to openly express our emotions and especially sad emotions. Perhaps in expressing the emotion Jesus expressed (John 11: 11:35–“Jesus wept.”) the church would have avoided the “suck it up” attitude of our culture. Weeping is raw emotion. Weeping is honest.

I’m thankful things are changing. Somewhere along the journey of life men began to know it’s okay to cry. We can now shake off the shackles of cultural or religious dictates that hampered emotions and feel free to be real, to cry.

I’m not saying, of course, that if men don’t cry they arent’s manly. I don’t mean that men must cry. I’m simply saying it’s okay to weep, to feel deep sadness, to cry, even in front of other people if need be. We don’t have to hide our tears in a corner!

If I cry I don’t like people drawing attention to me. It makes me feel I’m doing something wrong. The emotional ghosts of my cultural and church past can still haunt me. Perhaps other guys feel the same way.

To my female readers, if we guys cry please allow us to express ourselves in this way. Please don’t see our tears as a sign of weakness. We are feeling something deep that has caused us deep sorrow.

To cry is human.

I’m thinking a lot of this stuff through myself. This post even after I have rewritten it and reviewed it myself is giving me cause to ponder my own reality. There is still more to say on this.

What are your thoughts about men crying?

 

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Hello Silence My Old Friend!

This post may be more for myself than anyone else. Readers you may think it is long but please allow me to get this out okay?

Years ago the singing duo, Simon and Garfunkel came out with a song entited “The Sound of Silence.” I love that song. I especially loved the first line, “Hello darkness my old friend, I’ve come to talk to you again.” I’m not going to go into the context of the day when the song was written or became popular or mention how some have interpreted this song. I do, however, want to highlight how at times there is a need for silence.

There are times I visit an old friend of mine. Silence is the name. Silence isn’t always quiet and sometimes darkness is close by. Let me explain a bit of what I mean. My personality type tends toward a need to analyze thoughts and emotions that come my way. I gravitate toward being more introverted than anything else. I enjoy being around certain people yet I also enjoy silence and solitude. I can be a team player but I love doing things on my own.

Allow me to talk a bit about my past forty years of working or ministering or being with people. These forty years have primarily been in the context of being with people who are hurting in some way. Somehow people gravitate toward me. I don’t know why and I don’t know how this happens, it just does. For instance, I can be sitting in a hospital lobby waiting to go into a meeting and someone will sit by me and start talking to me. Has that kind of thing happened to you?

In the context of my work this somewhat natural ability with people has been a blessing. I have been able to sit patiently with hurting people and given them a safe place to pour out their life stories. It is a privilege to be there for them.

I have to say, on the other hand, there are times I want to be on my own. I sometimes allow the hurts of other people to almost haunt me. It is these times especially when I welcome my old friend silence.

Those involved in people helping professions or careers are advised not to become emotionally attached to those you try to help. I totally get that. I know what it means. I also accept that in order to be useful to others I have to be aware of who I am as a person. I have to be a friend of silence. I need silence.

At times in my work or even in my personal life I resonate with the situation of some people more than others. I find it somewhat easier to be emotionally distant with people in my professional context. Sometimes, however, there are those who stay in your mind.

Here is one instance in particular. I remember a colleague telling me a certain patient had requested to speak with me about some personal matter. It was my first day back after the weekend. I was looking forward to seeing him. I know he had been having spiritual and emotional struggles. I went to his room and he wasn’t there. I finally asked another colleague if she had seen him but she had not. I then asked the person who who had told me of his request to speak with me. She had just received news that, I must say, shocked me. He died during the evening from a fall. I never saw him again.

This news actually stunned me. I remember not knowing what to say. I just walked away from my colleague and sat in my office for a while. I then went for a walk on my own. I wanted to be with my old friend silence. For a while my silence was stalked by darkness. They aren’t a great combination.

Darkness insisted on being given attention. Darkness said that if I had paid more attention to the gentleman who died perhaps his struggles would have been diminished. Darkness goaded me into finding a mirror and looking into the face of a failure who lets people down. Darkness turned from being a friend into a demon! Silence itself isn’t always quiet. My thoughts clamoured for me to listen to them but all I wanted was silent silence. I hear enough noise. I don’t want my silence to be noisy.

Then I heard silence, my old friend! Silence in time, showed it really was my friend. Silence soothed me and encouraged me to ignore the sound of darkness. To survive in a world, a culture that is all too noisy, I need silence. In order to remain in touch with other people I must have the soothing embrace of silence.

“We need to find God, and he cannot be found in noise and restlessness. God is the friend of silence. See how nature – trees, flowers, grass- grows in silence; see the stars, the moon and the sun, how they move in silence… We need silence to be able to touch souls.”–Mother Teresa