A Good Cry

Sometimes, the most healing thing we can do is allow ourselves to break open.

A Good Cry

For those of you who have followed me for a while, you probably know me as the bubbly one. The optimistic one. The girl who finds light, color, and meaning in almost everything.

And that is true. That joy is real. It lives in me.

But I am not only that.

I am also a woman who feels deeply. A woman who worries. A woman who sometimes wakes up with a heaviness in her chest and no clear roadmap for how to carry it.

Over the past week and a half, I’ve experienced a range of emotions that definitely don’t belong to the “happy club.”

When health scares, financial instability, parenthood, and the general “the whole planet seems to be on fire” atmosphere all collide at once… something shifts. The ground feels less stable. The mind spins faster. The heart grows heavier.

And yes — I have felt sad.

Not dramatically. Not theatrically. Just quietly, persistently sad.

And I am not ashamed of that.

In fact, I believe it’s important to be seen in this state too. If I only show up when I’m glowing, I’m not really showing up fully.

So when life hands me lemons, I don’t just make lemonade — I make art.

Because if I stop creating during hard moments, I disconnect from my source. Creation isn’t just something I do when I’m inspired. It’s the thread that keeps me connected to myself. It is my life force.

This week, my oracle deck kept whispering to me. One card in particular surfaced again and again: “A Good Cry.”

And I knew — I didn’t need to push through.
I didn’t need to fix.
I didn’t need to power my way forward.

I needed to release.

When we feel the urge to cry, one of the most healing things we can do is allow it. Not suppress it. Not distract ourselves from it. Not scroll it away.

Allow it.

Here’s the practice I returned to:

First, sit quietly for 5–10 minutes. Close your eyes. Tune into your body. Where is the sadness living? In your throat? Your chest? Your stomach?

Then, put on a song — the kind that cracks you open. The kind that knows exactly where to press.

And let yourself respond.

If you need to sit still, sit.
If you need to sob, sob.
If you need to sway or dance or collapse onto the floor dramatically — do that.

There is no correct choreography for grief.

After the wave passes — and it always does — take a journal and write. Or don’t. Just notice.

Do you feel a little lighter?
A little more grounded?
Has one of those thousand open browser tabs in your nervous system finally closed?

That’s the mission.

Not to eliminate sadness.
But to metabolize it.

Crying with intention is not weakness.
It’s emotional hygiene.

And sometimes, the most productive thing we can do in a chaotic world is put on a damn good song and let our hearts break open for a few minutes.

The card “A Good Cry” from my oracle deck was born from this knowing — that release is sacred. That tears are cleansing. That vulnerability is strength.

If you’d like to explore the cards, I’ve linked them below 🤍

https://channelcreativity.art/shop/p/channel-creativity-oracle-deck

And if my work resonates with you — if these reflections feel like companionship in your own process — consider subscribing. Your support allows me to keep creating, writing, and sharing from this honest place.

P.S. Here is the song that got me to open up 🤍

With love,
Alexandra