You are here: at the intersection of Bourbon and Water Streets

Yes, I'm guilty of metaphoric mapmaking. I'm neither in New Orleans nor Providence. (But just now it occurs to me how polaristic those two places are, spatially and otherwise, if I did want to blog about the actual Bourbon or Water Street. And there are probably plenty of Water Streets, but the one I would write about is in Mr. Lovecraft's hometown and as I remember it has a coin laundry and a video store on it. Had. Are there still coin laundries and video stores?)

So back to the metaphoric intersection of Bourbon and Water. I received a message this afternoon and as a result I felt sad, frustrated, desperate and negative. It was just before a planned run that I got it. I ran anyway and only had to stop once to get my breathing under control. My face would screw up every now and then, and passersby probably thought, if they noticed at all, that it was due to the physical effort of running. It wasn't. I was running very slowly, sort of dejectedly shuffling along. I made a plan to bathe with a Bourbon on the rocks when I got home.

Normally when you plan to go to a specific destination you also have some idea of what you want to do there: see famous sites, visit a museum, eat a local specialty....I also had an agenda for my visit to Bourbon and Water,  and that was to cry. I wanted to sit in a hot bath, sip a cold Bourbon and bawl. While the first two conditions were easily met, I did not, unfortunately, have a bawl. My face screwed up like on the run every now and again, accompanied by a trickly tear or two, but mostly I just made strange noises. Sounded more like chuckling I think. Sometimes I let myself sort of moan. That probably sounded like I was pleasuring myself, had someone been listening at the door. And there were long pauses in between these outbursts, when I would kind of run out of breath. I would chuckle chuckle chuckle gasp. Pause. For a long time. Mooaaannn. I started to wonder about other people's experience with crying, specifically if they found it easy to "have a good cry." Haven't you heard people talk about that?

For a long time my attitude toward crying was mainly contemptuous. When done in the context of an argument I considered it an underhanded power play. Manipulative. I would get really angry at myself when I'd feel tears welling up out of anger or frustration. Now I think it's healthy to let yourself feel whatever emotion it is you're feeling. I'm in the Let It Out camp. I would just like to Let It Out a bit more effectively. Could be that I'm seeking to optimize inappropriately. Maybe everyone's experience at the intersection of Bourbon and Water Streets is a little different, but none better than any other. Maybe it's worth revisiting. Any thoughts on adult tears?