Last night, five minutes after turning out the light, I started to cry.
Not a delicate, ethereal, movie-style cry, but a full on ugly and snotty cry that made me feel like all the water in my body was cascading out of my eyes and nose.
The cry started for a lot a lot of reasons – and I came up with more and more reasons as I went along (thank you, brain!) – but somewhere down the melodramatic, tear sodden line I actually managed to have a good idea.
Read the Moomins.
So, in between disgustingly hideous sobs, I hauled myself back out of bed, switched back on the light, and found some Moomin medicine*.
It came in the form of Moominpappa at Sea, and in one chapter I was cured.
First, I laughed.
“I’m going to stay here,” said Moominpappa. “I shall stand guard over it. I’ll stay here all night if necessary.”
“Do you really think,” Moominmamma began. Then she just said, “Yes. That’s very good of you. One never knows what will happen with moss.”
No. One never really does. Moss is tricky like that.
Then I nodded like a congregation at church.
“It can take a terrible long time before things sort themselves out.”
Hallelujah, praise be.
And then I found myself wondering if Tove Jansson had broken directly into my brain.
“…only nice thoughts came into his head, thoughts of islands in the sea, and great changes taking place in all their lives.”
It’s good to cry sometimes. All of us need a good old fashioned tear-fest every now and then. And maybe, seeing as last night was Halloween, I was simply exorcising a few emotional ghosts.
But I was certainly grateful for my Moomin medicine.
*side effects may include: laughing, smiling, marvelling, a warm happy feeling in your heart, and forgetting all your woes.
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[…] right from the bottom of my topsy-turvy heart and brain. It may also shine a bit more light on my Moomin Medicine post from […]