An Open Apology to Anger
Anger,
I have never felt you as much as I am in this season, and it's freaked me out. There are so many voices that tell me to reject you. They say:
If you're mature, you don't get angry.
If you're healthy, you don't get angry.
If you're spiritual, you don't get angry.
If you're wise, you don't get angry.
As you know, I had an experience this summer that ushered you in with a tidal wave, and you have persisted and persisted and persisted. Wow. This is new. My prior experiences of you, even if piping hot, would usually abate within hours or a day, maybe two.
My early life held no esteem for you. In all spheres, I was taught to reject you. Anger in my childhood home was negative and didn't bring about health and healing. It was scary, unpredictable, and harmful. Anger in my religious upbringing was from partnering with the devil. Anger as a female was unbecoming and inconsistent with my God-given nature. Anger in romantic relationships was mostly denied and suppressed.
So what to do when it's been two days, three days, four days and then weeks, and I'm feeling you just as intensely as from the first hit from that inciting event? If you're me, you pray, you seek counsel, you seek support, you move, you do your self-care, you wait, and you're just pretty darn confused and feeling lost. I don't want to be angry. I don't like feeling angry. I want to move through the anger. I don't want to hold onto you.
But life can and did blindside me. Life can and did traumatize me. Situations where and people with whom I thought I was safe can and did prove to be wholly unsafe. Anger, that's where you made your entrance.
The injury was shocking and, of course, resulted in hurt. My mind and body took charge, knowing how to move me to safety. After the initial shock, Anger, you made your appearance, and you were anything but subtle. You made your presence known and demanded my full attention. You were completely disruptive to life as usual. You called for action.
Anger, you partnered with my memory and helped me clarify the wrong(s) done to me. Anger, with your searing intensity you helped me know the intensity of my wounding. Anger, you helped me distance myself from the wounding party. Your intensity correlated with the intensity of my hurt and thus helped me establish boundaries of appropriate height and width. Your persistence aided me, in unprecedented fashion, in establishing new patterns and maintaining a safe, healing distance when the behavior from the other person was not towards reconciliation, but maintaining unhealthy patterns.
Thank you, Anger, for protecting me. Thank you for teaching me. I know you won't be here forever, but you'll be here as long as you need to be. I'm learning to not be afraid of you. I'm learning to be curious. I'm learning to be vulnerable. I'm learning to see where you point and how you guide. Anger, I am grateful for you being a real friend and for being here for me as soon as I and for as long as I need you. Thank you for leading me to my hurt(s), so that I can lovingly attend to them. Thank you for leading me to my needs. Thank you for leading me to my desires. This knowledge promises a healthier, more integrated future.
I'm sorry you get such a bad rap. I'm sorry you've been twisted for power and manipulation. I'm sorry we're so afraid of you and fail to see your numerous gifts. I'm sorry you haven't been seen for the wise, truth-telling guide you are. I'm sorry people, cultures, and institutions have separated you from vulnerability and self-growth. I'm sorry people haven't seen your energizing power for healing and right action.
Anger, I pledge to greet you with time, space, and curiosity. I pledge to sit at your feet and benefit from your company rather than stuff you down, compartmentalize you, deflect you, or try to lock you outside.
Anger, thank you for your wisdom.
-esb