Ain't No Shame In That

Today started off lousy. Lousy, lousy. I don't know why except to say that I felt mute and thick. I was moving slowly as if I were dragging myself through some viscous a big sea of kindergarten snot. After lunch I went into my second art class of the day and was warned by my co-worker that our normally vivacious, good humored J was having a rough day. The moment I walked into class her chin began to quiver and her eyes watered up. J, sweetheart, I know how you feel. She just needed to be held, so we sat together in the art room while the other students painted their pink! and purple! beetles and smooshed playdough in their ears. She put her arms around me, laid her head on my chest and cried through the entire class. Sometimes she would look up for a second to twirl my ponytail through her fingers, then she would put her head back down and sob some more. It was the cathartic 45 minutes we both needed--I got to be held by her and she by me. And all of that crying of J's did me good. I felt clear and grateful and light in remembering that it is ok to let go and just feel bad for awhile. Ain't no shame in that.