The Holy Water of Grief

A few days ago, I had a good cry. Like the rain and thunder, my tears and heart-wrenching sobs cleared the air, both within and without. Grief is such a gift, and when I'm under stress, when I feel alone or misunderstood, when the world just feels overwhelming, sometimes I remember, "It's okay; I just need a good cry"...and I do.

I attended a memorial once for a person who was part of an indigenous tradition. At that touching ceremony, some of the women collected their tears in tiny containers. They told me that the sadness suspended in that salt-water created by their own bodies held their memories and love for the person who had passed, so it was a sacred substance.

At a different time, I was sitting around the fire with an Anishnaabe man. A woman attending there told a very sad story, and her tears started flowing. When the Firekeeper reached for the box of tissues, the traditional man said to give her a glass of water. He told us that's what they do instead of drying their tears: they give the crying person more water, so that their tears can flow more. That way, the person's cleansing gift can be fully encouraged and embraced.

I'm glad that some people in Japan are rediscovering the blessings of tears:
https://www.bbc.com/reel/video/p08qj3vv/why-the-japanese-believe-that-crying-is-good-for-you

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Initiated as a tradition-holder in the Nahua/Mexican weather worker lineage in May 2003 by don Lucio Campos de Elizalde of Nepopualco, Morelos, Mexico, Erin Everett is a weather worker, ceremonial leader, and traditional healer. She is known in Nahuatl as a quiatlzques and in Spanish as a tiempera. As are many in this tradition, she was struck by lightning in her youth, which is a known calling to this path. A native of western North Carolina, she and her colleagues work with weather in the Asheville, NC geographical region. More information about their work, tradition, and teachers can be found at seedsoftradition.org.