It’s been a strangely emotional week.
The kind where you get teary-eyed over things that normally wouldn’t make you cry and feeling exhausted without being able to explain exactly why.
Earlier this week I found myself caught in a worry spiral.
The outcome of a situation was completely out of my hands, and despite all my best efforts to journal, meditate, walk the dog, and regulate my nervous system, the worry wouldn’t budge.
I had no choice but to sit in it. By the end of the night, the worry was gone and so was my energy.
A few days later, our daughter graduated from college.
As I watched her walk across the stage, I was surprised by the emotion that hit me.
Relief.
Pride.
Gratitude.
It felt like we had all been holding our breath to get to that moment.
And suddenly we could finally exhale. Another day where the emotions exhausted me.
It didn’t end there.
Yesterday while on a Zoom call with a few really close friends, someone shared something deeply personal they had been struggling with for a year. She was brave, she was vulnerable and she was now on the other side of it.
The call went quiet and I was speechless and I cried. I cried for being considered worthy of her trust in sharing her story. The tears pulled even more energy out of me.
Then later in the week I found myself tearing up while watching videos of World Cup fans singing and celebrating their countries. I mean, how could I not cry seeing all this patriotism?!
At that point I had to laugh.
Why was everything making me emotional? And why was it not ending??
And then it occurred to me.
Maybe I wasn’t emotional because of any one thing.
Maybe I was simply becoming aware of how much I had been carrying. How much emotion I was holding on to that I wasn’t allowing my body to process through so that even the happy things I was experiencing was triggering the tears.
Most importantly, this week made me realize that not everything has to have a deep meaning either. Sometimes it’s just getting to the end of the week and just realizing it was full of big emotions.
