Let the tears flow, it is what makes us human and alive: Christa Ackroyd

This week one of my best friends rang me in floods of tears. And that is so unlike her. Always the optimist, forever the giver and the kind of person who lives life at a hundred miles an hour yet is always there for family, friends, even strangers, at the drop of a hat.

I have never heard her cry before. Really cry. Yes she has shed a tear, we all do, but to hear her cry was both unexpected and alarming. And it made me cry too. What is more when I asked what was wrong, presuming something truly awful had happened, she couldn’t tell me. She had just woken up and all day had wanted to cry.

I understood immediately. After a long period of relentlessly dashing here and running there, looking after everyone else’s needs while ignoring her own, she had finally taken herself away on holiday. The sun was shining, the kids were playing happily, she had cocktail in hand and the sand between her toes but more importantly she had stopped ‘doing’ for the first time in months and started ‘being’ as finally her body released the tensions of every day living. She cried all morning. By afternoon she was sending me photographs of her on a quad bike. All was well. ‘Better out than in’ as my granny would say. And granny was always was right.

I too cried four times last week. Once out of frustration, possibly even anger. Why doesn’t matter. Suffice to say anything akin to disrespect has that affect on me. It was short lived and I moved on. Secondly, I watched the final episode of a mini series and cried at the outcome. I had seen it before but felt I needed some emotion. ‘One Day.’ I cried at the book too. You should try it. It is heart-breaking but glorious in it’s characterisation of love, won and lost. Thirdly, when my granddaughter, a nervous horse rider at the best of times, finally let go of all that tension and completed three glorious days away with her pony as if they finally came to understand each other and had been together for years. No more tears of fear or frustration. And finally I cried when I witnessed 80 incredible young people sing their hearts out before their choir, The Barnsley Youth Choir, of which I am proud to have been made an honorary patron (I cried then too) set off to Sweden to represent Great Britain at the World Choir Games. Anyway gospel music in particular always makes me cry.

Though let’s be honest I do cry at the drop of a hat. And I quite like that about me. I cry at memories that appear on Facebook or in the mind, photographs, poetry, weddings, funerals (a particularly sad one last week of a former colleague gone too soon) and music, especially music. But we must never be ashamed to cry. It hit me how important it is to do so while researching just why we do.

Firstly, the psychologists would describe crying as the ultimate emotional release. A good cry releases tension and ironically sadness.

The scientists have a more complex explanation. They say it is actually a chemical reaction designed to lubricate the eyes. That tears slightly blur our vision which some experts say signals submission or they send out an SOS to others that we need help. They also conclude that emotional tears contain a higher level of complex hormones and proteins which are part of the bodies natural pain control.

I, of course, being a romantic prefer the explanation of the poets that tears are a way of shedding what the heart can no longer hold. And as my friend was approaching the anniversary of her beloved sister’s death, her body and brain had taken over to bring her some sense of calm.

But here is what my ad hoc research also showed me. Men and women are actually built to cry equally and probably would if it were not for societal expectations that women are more emotional and men, real men, have to hold it in. They do not of course. And should not. We are both merely human. Which brings me to that which I found the most fascinating.

Did you know (I did not) that scientists have failed to find another living species who shed emotional tears? Animals do not, insects do not and birds and reptiles do not. Just we humans. Which I think makes crying rather beautiful for humanity when the harshness of all we see around us seems the new way of living this thing called life. Tears are special because they set us apart from every other living thing on the planet.

And yet from an early age we are taught not to shed them. From the moment we are born we learn to cry as one of our first human instincts when we are in need of food or comfort, yet somehow we are considered a cry baby if we continue to do so into childhood and especially in adult life. And that is neither good for the soul nor good for our brains, hearts and bodies.

Much has been talked about how Artificial Intelligence will take over the world, leaving us humans useless and struggling to find employment and purpose. The answer will be in our tears. No matter how great the programmer AI can never ever have real emotions. It can pretend to have them, we can even ask it to replicate them in a letter or message to another human being, but it can never feel them. And that is our saving grace. If we learn to accept that what it can do is save time and effort but it can never replace the human ability to care and show our caring, then we can accept it while knowing we as humans are needed.

No medical diagnosis can truly be given without looking into a persons eyes and seeing the cause and effect. No job interviewer will really find the best candidate without sitting face to face and seeing and hearing them (though many try). No journalist can get a feel for the truth by taking in a few facts and speaking to their subject over the telephone. And no politician can truly represent the people they are paid to serve from their ivory cosseted Westminster tower without being among those they represent. On that the new Prime Minister and I agree. So give me someone with real emotions rather than a stiff upper lip attitude any day.

Samuel Beckett once wrote: “For each one who begins to weep somewhere else another stops.” He also concluded that the same could be said for laughter. American writer Christian N’est-elle Bovee penned the words: “Tears are nature’s lotion for the eyes. The eyes see better for being washed by them.” But one of my favourite people Dolly Parton also said: “If you want the rainbow you gotta put up with the rain.”

Donna Summer and Barbra Streisand sang about no more tears. I say let them flow. And the next time you are moved to experience them celebrate them, whether those tears come from deep rooted grief, an overwhelming sense of beauty or deep, powerful love, remembering they make you you and prove that whatever you have gone through your heart is open and you are above all human.

And to my friend flying back from holiday hopefully rested, renewed and ready to pick up the baton again, thank you for trusting me with your tears. It was an honour to share them. Soon normal service will I am sure be resumed and we will be sharing the best kind… tears of laughter.