Babies Cry; Boys Don't Cry; Man Weeps in Ecstasy

That's why the saying evolved, "boys don't cry." In the course of your maturation, you will first cry and scream and fret and make so loud a messy nuisance of yourself that if you are not patiently cared for by something sufficiently larger and wiser as to see the value in nurturing your growth, you will perish 999 times out of 1000. (There is, of course, a crack in everything - Cohen).

When you are no longer a baby but not yet a man, your response to having been a crying baby will be to suppress all of that crying. What to do then with your base instinctive force of addressing your own pain? I say to you, even at this point you must find something novel (Become Whole = Grow to Adulthood) with it or perish under it.

Sooner or later, you have always been bound to find this. When you become a man, your weeping is internal, a gracious ecstasy with which you blow, with absolute polite and undisruptive fragrance, your compassionate love. Quietly on the breath. The internal experience of movement of all of this fluid is a literal re-ordering of your living material being.