If we want to understand what crying is, we must address, as directly as possible, its distinctive ways of doing battle with speech. The dynamic tension between language and crying gives us an important clue to a necessary condition of crying, whether or not talking is involved. In order to make crying a compellingly sensible thing to do, adults must in effect explain why they can't express themselves in language. This necessity for warranting crying holds whether or not anyone else will observe the person crying. One cries on the understanding that the situation requires a personally embodied form of expression that transcends what language can do.
People cry in response to music, to pictorial art, to sunsets, and to eclipses.
These cryings honor experiences that in their nature go beyond words. When words are present, they risk detracting from the provocative experience. Attending too much to words that purport to describe an experience can stand in the way of a resonant experience. Where social customs demand a respectfully silent and stationary watching, tears often emerge as the only outlet for an irresistibly responsive grasping of the happenings. Crying is a predictable response by respectfully frozen guests at funerals, children's school recitals, award shows, weddings, and patriotic ceremonies.