I've heard all the talk, all around me, my whole damn life:Men Don't Cry;
Emotion Is For The Weak;
Bottling Up Your Feelings Creates Character;
... and I have to tell ya, it all sounds like bullshit to me now.
I have groused about our dysfunctional society forever, to no avail; it continues on its destructive path unabated. With few exceptions we live in a 'every man for himself, only the strong survive, ya snooze ya lose' world, and that causes stress for everyone-- man, woman, child. And stress, besides being a killer, is also the primary impetus for destructive behaviors-- selfishness, greed, theft, violence and the like.
I'm no genius, but it seems clear to me: Remove the stress and the destructive behaviors disappear. Sadly, I know that's not going to happen, society-wide, anytime soon. So I try to reduce my own stress as much as I can by changing things I can change, and by moderating the effects of things I can't change.
One of the most important moderations I have found is to cry. We learned it as children: when hurt, cry.
Okay, one of society's wrongs is how it tends to punish men for crying-- a crying man is seen as weak and therefore easy to intimidate or dominate. Yes, there are certain times when men crying is deemed appropriate; at funerals, for example, or when your team makes it to the playoffs but doesn't win.
But for other situations, crying is a huge no-no (societally speaking, of course): with breakups, a man needs his stiff upper lip; losing a valued job is done with a steely gaze; and sad movies, where guys practically need to bring onions as an excuse.
I solve that problem by crying where people can't see me. Or by crying around people who don't know me. Or best yet, by holding it in until I collapse in racking sobs on the floor of a supply closet. Okay, the last one was a joke, but the point is I think it's important to cry when it is needed-- tears wash the pain away.
You know, I have had a lot of trouble crying in the one place where it is completely appropriate to do so-- in the anger management group I attend. I speak carefully there, to avoid exposing any live emotional wires which might spark a bout of blubbery. I don't know why I do this-- I guess it's because I have traditionally preferred to cry alone.
But a special circumstance exists in the group. We spend 2 hours a week exploring fear, pain and anger, and in a very personal way; each member is encouraged to bring up their own personal sensitive situations so we can break it apart and expose all the emotions jumbling around in our brains.
So this week was a banner one in our group: one of our bravest members told a story so painful and revealing that at the end of it, he was in tears and the rest of us were either blinking back eyes glistening over, biting our lips and squinting, nodding in somber agreement or clucking in sympathy. The group ended in hugs and back slaps-- for a bunch of guys that were supposedly abusive, it looked more like a reunion of old friends. And it was enormously gratifying.
I have noticed a metamorphosis of myself in our group in the nine months I've been there: in the beginning I was green, a newbie. I didn't know what to expect and was intimidated by what I though must be a room full of murderers. There was a routine I had to learn involving personal admissions. As a shy public speaker I had to swallow my fear and trepidation and admit to things I didn't want to believe were true.
Over time it has become much easier to 'spill my guts'. Yes, I still throw a bunch of comedy into my dissertations to mask the pain and embarrassment, but I eventually forge forth with the truth, hard as it is. I have found that I have begun to trust these guys, even look forward to hearing their stories and hearing their responses to mine. I thought in the beginning that the group leader would be the one with all the knowledge, the person who would take the mystery out of these confusing situations. Don't get me wrong... he does... but I was surprised and gratified at all the pearls of wisdom thrown about by the members themselves.
So I guess learning does take place in that room-- people (myself included) find out how to identify their troubling emotions and modify their behavior to yield better results than the one that landed them in this room to begin with.
And one of the most important pieces of information I learned was that I actually WAS an angry guy! I never thought I was, since I never got into fights and rarely got into arguments (except with my wife). It turns out I was stuffing my anger, frustration and fear deep into my head in order to prevent a scene, which ended up popping out at inappropriate times in my home life.
Most importantly, I became aware of how society's guidelines have failed us. Men not only SHOULD cry... they MUST cry! It's a vitally important relief valve. As an example: If I build a tank designed to hold pressure and don't install a relief valve for when the pressure gets too great, the tank will burst. It seems an oversimplification, but hey, it's accurate.
So to my friend in class, the one who let loose a torrent of tears amidst an avalanche of emotions-- good going, buddy! I bet it helped put things into perspective and gave you a renewed feeling of hope for the future!
You know, I'm almost waiting for the next emotionally jarring event in my life so I can have a good cry about it and come away with some positive life lessons...
Almost.
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