You don’t want to do it, you know it’s going to hurt. The gag reflex hits. Crying is like puking for the soul. When it’s all over, you’re glad you did it. There’s a feeling of cleansing. The residue is still there, of course. But you’re glad you did it.
Sometimes there’s no reason. My mother once told me that our emotional self does not process experiences at the same rate as our rational self. Thus, the emotional self will grieve over pain that is long past. When the rational self is least expecting it. When the rational self has all but forgotten the origin.
Other times, the reason is right before us. It is insurmountable. There is no going around it. And just before we collide headfirst into it, the walls crumble and our ego is humbled at the expression of it’s own grief. All we can do is tag along for the ride. We can train our minds to perform great feats,have mastery over all of our senses – but it would be a mistake to assume that the soul is owned by the body. The body is merely occupied by it.
There are moments when I listen. It takes a minute or two to realize that the whispers are attempting to maintain control. Be patient. Eventually they fade. Be present. The stillness will come.