Or, maybe it was the long conversation I had with my Mom where she cried a little over something that warranted a few tears, and I held her hand.
Or, maybe it was because Naomi was especially fussy yesterday evening.
Or, maybe it was because I've lost five pounds in fifteen days.
Or, maybe it was the changes some loved ones in my life are going through.
Or, maybe it was because Cub was with his grandparents and I was missing him.
But, for whatever reason, I made another batch of cupcakes today ... and cried the entire time. At times I had to stop because I was sobbing, and once the sobbing slowed to sniffling, I'd pick up where I left off, whether it was stirring the batter or frosting the finished cakes. Naomi took an especially long nap and I played the playlist I play every day on my iPod while I baked, and whenever this song came on, I cried a little harder.
It's crazy how sometimes things just hit us, even if they just softly hit us, and their feather-like touch is enough to send us into an emotional train wreck that we can't quite explain.
I'm not completely sure why I cried this afternoon.
All I know is that I needed to do it.
At times I think we make ourselves strong because we have to, or we coat the struggles we face in colors that make them easier to recognize--we compartmentalize them to give them reason and because we give them reason, we think we should be able to deal with them, well, reasonably.
But the small pieces of us that get absorbed in those struggles, no matter how small they may seem, eventually build-up until the only thing that can release them is a good cry. This is true for me, anyway. Not everything can be reasoned away. Sometimes, for no good reason at all, we just need a release.
And after the tears, and after the music, I felt better. I had a delicious batch of cupcakes waiting for me at the end of all of it, too, which was nice.
I share this with you because sometimes I fear that my day-to-day optimism may come across as pretentiousness and the last thing I ever, ever, EVER want to be is pretentious. So, if that thought ever comes into your mind, replace it with the thought of me sitting on the kitchen tile floor, the spatula in my hand dripping with chocolate cupcake batter, my weepy eyes buried into my arms resting on my knees. And for no good reason.
Maybe the "no good" reasons are the best reasons of all for a cry. Maybe.
I'm going to go eat a cupcake now.