The Practice of ‘Crying Meditation’
It wasn’t until last year that I started a semi-regular practice that I have dubbed ‘Crying Meditation’. And you can probably guess what it entails and maybe it sounds pretty straight forward, but I want to explain the Why?, the How?, and the What? around it.
I had just experienced the realness of suicide, after a friend of mine took his own life in October. I say “realness” because before it had come into my circle and into my immediate life, it was a far-off concept that happened to other people and I was only vaguely aware of as a cause for concern. I was confused and shocked and scared and grief-stricken. The fact it was suicide made it feel different to any other death I’d experienced within my family and friends. Subsequently I did alot of talking, and reflecting, and checking in with both my friends and myself, during the weeks and months that followed.
Along with the initial shock and disbelief (that still hits me occasionally), I broke down crying pretty often too. In public places like cafes, and my retail job, on the train or the bus, while talking on the phone, or walking down the street, as well as in the shower or my bed. And even with these tears throughout the day, when I sat down to meditate at night I would cry even more.
In that time to be with myself and sit with whatever was going on I let the tears fall. I’d sit for ten whole minutes and cry non-stop. I’d place my hands on my heart and rock forward and back, shaking uncontrollably. Just me witnessing and giving myself that space to BE. I’m thankful that I had that time set aside to let myself fall apart. It was so necessary and so therapeutic. And it became a nightly occurrence for me during my mourning period.
After establishing this practice, I still find great value in it. Even now, though it’s not daily or weekly anymore, I occasionally sit down to meditate and find myself with tears welling up. Sometimes it’s just the first five minutes, or sometimes they just keep coming until the timer goes off. When life feels too hard, when I’ve had the weight of the world on my shoulders all week, when I feel hurt or confused or scared, and I can’t hold it in any longer. No expectations, no judgments, no examining. Just space to release.
It’s not something I’d spoken about with a lot of people. For a while it was only really mentioned to my meditation buddy because I’d say “I cried the whole time, it was much needed.” or “Hmm tonight’s going to be crying meditation, wana join?”. And then I saw this post by Ameya (reference link below image) and I finally found the words for this idea/concept that had become part of my life. It was summed up so perfectly! I was releasing and letting go, and when I sit down with that intention I feel so much better afterwards.
The importance of this practice made so much sense from then on. There’s no forcing involved. Just a gentle surrendering to the overwhelming feelings inside. And when I release the heaviness and the burden I make space for something new to emerge. Whether that’s a new idea, understanding, or sensation.
