What Your Sighs Say

In some research I was doing recently, I stumbled across an essay by Bernard Cooper called "The Fine Art of Sighing." It starts like this: "You feel a gradual welling up of pleasure, or boredom, or melancholy. Whatever the emotion, it's more abundant than you ever dreamed. You can no more contain it than your hands can cup a lake. And so you surrender and suck the air. Your esophagus opens, diaphragm expands. Poised at the crest of an exhalation, your body is about to be unburdened, second by second, cell by cell. A kettle hisses. A balloon deflates. Your shoulders fall like two ripe pears, muscles slack at last."

So, this essay struck a chord in me--a pretty deep one. I don't know if it is because I have sighed a lot lately or if it is because Cooper discusses his parent's sighs, and how he could almost read them for their emotional content, but it made me start noticing how much I sigh and how many times other people sigh. Mine aren't all bad, but there have been a lot:
sighs saying, "again?;" sighs saying, "that's a lot of work;" sighs of relief, "phew! glad we missed that;" sighs of contentment, "now that was good;" and sighs of fulfillment, "that's what I needed."

I have noticed a lot of sighs out of others, too.
My sister: sigh of relief after sitting.
My co-worker: sigh of desperation after realizing shit does roll downhill.
My friend: sigh of frustration after I've frustrated him.
My roommate: sigh of relief after opening the door on a Friday eveningafter a long week of work.

Sighs say a lot.