There are several ways I communicate to people in therapy that their tears are welcome:
I make sure there are boxes of tissues within reach.
I say “All your feelings are welcome here.”
I explain the science that supports the thesis that tears are good for you (and better than bottling sadness up inside).
I think this acceptance of tears gets through. Every week, in individual and group therapy, I see people crying in the presence of others. To me, they seem to heal with each tear that’s shed, witnessed, and supported.
Yesterday, I shed tears — and felt healed — when I listened to songs about our shared mortality, from Sting’s The Last Ship:
Here are some photos from yesterday, which I hope are healing:
This post is dedicated to all those who have shed tears on September 11 (or any other day of the year). May you continue to heal, in peace.
“Ships passing in the night” means (according to dictionary.com):
Often said of people who meet for a brief but intense moment and then part, never to see each other again. These people are like two ships that greet each other with flashing lights and then sail off into the night. From a poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.
Individuals who are rarely in the same place at the same time. For example, Jan works the early shift and Paula the late shift—they’re two ships that pass in the night. This metaphoric expression comes from Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s poem “The Theologian’s Tale” (published in Tales of a Wayside Inn, 1873).
Those definitions are like two ships passing each other in this post.
Now, I shall pass on to you two thoughts passing like ships in my bloggy mind (as the moon and sun sail by each other in their passage into day):
I’ve used that term “like ships passing in the night” when I’ve passed by people I seldom see.
Yesterday, in New York City, I passed by many ships, people, and other vessels and vehicles, including these:
That guy (labeled “photogenic” in those photos) is Michael, whom Deb and I passed like ships on our way to a boat tour to the Statue of Liberty. As we passed a few moments with Michael, we discovered he has lived in NYC all his life and is thinking of passing on to another location, in order to pursue his non-passing dream of being a web designer.
Deb and I passed on the offer to pose for a passing photograph (for that is Michael’s passing profession), but Michael, Deb, and I all seemed glad to pass each other, ever so briefly.
I had many passing wishes to photograph other images passing by me, while Deb and I waited to board the passing fair ship. I will pass on to you a small percentage of them.
When Deb (passing by your eyes, above, in the orange parka) noticed one person taking a photo of another one, she quickly passed by to take a picture of the two of them together.
That’s Deb, as we passed the time liking each other’s passing posts on Facebook.
Then the ship sailed up to us and docked, and many people passed by as they disembarked:
If you look closely at those people passing off the ship, you’ll see that some of them are wearing Statue of Liberty hats. Deb expressed a wish to get one of those, but they passed by her like green plastic ships, in the gray, rainy day.
Deb also expressed a wish to pass up to the top portion of the sightseeing ship. As you can see, nobody else passed up there, with us.
We eventually passed on the rain, and passed down to the covered floors, below.
Deb is talking to somebody we had passed earlier, when Deb had briefly passed into speaking Mandarin, to help him understand when and where to board this ship.
That was my first glimpse of Lady Liberty, as we (and other ships) passed towards her.
And then we passed by a place where many souls had passed, on September 11, 2001.
As we passed by the new World Trade Center, I told Deb that a month after 9/11/01, my then three-year-old son, my ex-husband, and I had passed by here, and I saw the smoke still rising into the sky.
That’s Ellis Island, where many people from different lands passed through, many years ago, to a new home in the United States.
After we passed by all these things like ships passing in the night, Deb and I got ready to see Sting‘s new musical “The Last Ship” on Broadway. I put on my brand-new, WATERPROOF boots:
and Deb and I passed by these, on our way to the play:
One final shot, before this post passes into the blogosphere (and passes by you, like a ship in the night):
That last photo shows part of the amazing set for “The Last Ship,” a wonderful work of soul and art I was so happy to pass by, last night.
Passing by you, now, is music I must pass on to complete this post:
(Sting performing “When the Last Ship Sails” from “The Last Ship,” live on Charlie Rose, passes here on YouTube.)
Thanks to Deb, Joseph Mitchell, Michael, Sting and to all who passed by me yesterday (in the day and night) and (of course!) to you and all who pass (and connect) through this blog.*
* What do you think? Are we like ships passing through the night?
