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When it is worth to cry

When was the last time you cried? I’m not ashamed to say that I am frequently moved to tears. Yet I cannot bring to memory the last time I suffered to the point of crying - probably many years ago.

It’s too common to associate the experience of crying with suffering. Sadly there’s too many people without luck in this world which may very well have all the reasons to cry their miseries. And this people need our help. But if you are the average person in this world - not having to fight starvation or being on a hospital bed half conscious. I have something to tell you.

I think it is possible to live a life of frequent crying, not out of suffering, but of joy.

The first thing I recalled crying out of joy was at the wonders I was introduced by the original cosmos series. There’s something in Carl Sagan’s way of viewing the world that resonates profoundly with me. Even nowadays if I listen to the serie’s music or watch one of my favorite episodes I’m moved to tears.

Poetry may very well impact-me in a similar fashion, Othello will forever live in my heart. The stoicism of Marcus Aurelius. The profundity of Goethe’s view of life. The symmetries of mathematics. Some pieces of music: Vivaldi, Bach and James Horner’s Breavehearth’s theme. Some gospel songs (although I’m an atheist) do touch me. Even the mundane pleasure’s of The Lord of the Rings.

A breeze of wind altogether with a deep breath. A sunlight.

I strongly suspect that one of the main drivers of this susceptibility is meditation. Far more important than the secular benefits of the practice, the reason I do it is to achieve inner peace. And this peace allows me to expand my circle of sympathy and connection. By the way this is no magic - some drugs can also have the same effect.

It is also necessary a clear examination of our predicament. To cry out of joy you don’t need new landscapes, just new eyes. All the improbabilities that amount for us to be here and now is the only miracle worth the name.

The unbelievable luck we have to have being born, out of billions of other combinations biology could have produced. The staggering improbability of such a majestic universe governed by precise and discoverable laws. The fact we are made out of the waste of dying starts blowing up as supernovas. We are the universe. We are a way of the universe to discover itself.

Some people find it unpleasant to talk about death. I feel the opposite. It’s precisely the finite nature of our existence that makes it so precious. Be mindful of these things in your days and I challenge not to cry. Enjoy your moment in the Sun.