Tears without Reasons

I didn’t expect to cry, but I did.

I was just listening to a chant in youtube - the Plum Village monastic version of Namo Avalokiteshvaraya. A few notes in, something inside me softened, my eyes welled up and tears began to fall. 

I couldn’t explain the emotions behind it. It wasn’t sadness. It was a kind of release - as if the chant had reached a place beyond words. Avalokiteshvara, the Bodhisattva of Compassion, or Guan Yin as commonly known, listens deeply to suffering. As I listened, I realised that this was the quality I’ve spent much of my life extending to others - in coaching, in caring, in being present. Yet, in that moment, it felt as if that same compassion was turning towards me. And that was when the tears came. They weren’t tears of pain, but of release - the kind that surface when the body finally feels safe enough to exhale. It was as though something inside whispered, “You, too, deserve to be held.” 

I didn’t realize how much I needed this. 

The tears came quietly, without reason, yet they felt right. Perhaps they were the heart’s way of saying, “I’m still here.” Sometimes, when we truly listen, the heart answers - not with words, but with tears. And perhaps, in that stillness, compassion was listening too.