The answer

 

The Answer

I was walking on a trail near my house when I found the answer–or, at least, an answer. It was packaged in a square paperback book lying on a park bench, as if waiting for the right person to sit down next to it. Maybe that person was me. At any rate, I picked it up and flipped through the pages, almost expecting some words to jump out and scramble together to make sense. Then, I noticed the title: The Boon of Tears. 

Well, that was certainly a strange name for a book. I considered  tucking it under my arm to take home, but from the ominous look of the cover I thought again. It was all black except for some triangles representing the folds of a priest's stole, and from the blurb on the back I learned it was a murder mystery. Not what I was looking for in the woods. 

However, since I was searching for an answer after an argument, it dawned on me that this small alcove facing a large oak tree was exactly what I had been looking for. It was welcoming me, inviting me into its circle.

My tears were a release. As I continued down the path I reflected on the fact that all tears are a release of tension, frustration, hurt, and even joy. In that way, the emotion has somewhere to go so that I have somewhere to go-down a trail or in an alcove or wherever my searching brings me.

So, there it went–that flood of emotion, exaggerated as it could have seemed to some. But I was there with only the trees and insects as my witnesses. And the hurt gushed out onto the gravely ground and soaked into the soil. I didn't have to pick the tears up. They were a boon given to me and I didn't and wouldn't apologize for them.

Photo: Beyza Erdem: https://www.pexels.com/photo/open-book-on-the-wooden-bench-14196596/

Text: Kristen Mastromarchi