Anger

It happened so unexpectedly and quickly that I got caught up into it without thinking. I made an innocuous but clumsy remark, someone took offense, I apologized, the other wouldn’t let it go. And that’s when I felt myself getting angry. And, for a brief moment, all I wanted to do was lash out and wound the other. I was able to step back and take a deep breath. But the anger… the sensation of feeling angry… stayed in my body for quite a long time after the incident.

Anger is a primary emotion, one that we need to express in order to stay healthy. It allows us to fiercely defend ourselves and our loved ones when they’re being threatened.

Often we feel called to fiercely defend our own integrity when it is being threatened or maligned, as in my example above. Sometimes the threat is real. But sometimes we’re projecting memories of early childhood wounding on to this “threat” as we perceive it. Our sense of vulnerability creates a deeply felt need to protect ourselves. And so we lash out at our real, or imagined, attacker.

Anger also allows us to defend that which we believe in so deeply that this belief defines us. When I see someone showing cruelty or disrespect towards other humans, animals, or any being in nature, I feel disgust. And disgust, like contempt, is an expression of anger. The anger I feel comes from my deepest belief that all life should be treated with respect and reverence.

And this is where things get tricky. Because anger can prompt us to attack when we want to defend and collective anger, collective indignation, can start riots and wars. And so we have learned to curb our anger, to be polite, and to think before we act. So expressing anger can get complicated. A friend sighed the other day, “I need to express my anger more, I wish I could find a civilized way to do it!”

When we keep anger, especially old anger from early wounding, inside us, it eats away at us like a poison. Bottled-up anger can be the underlying cause of many physical symptoms: high blood pressure, heart disorders, stomach ulcers, sleep disorders, etc. And sometimes we think we’re keeping the anger inside, but our defensive reactions betray our disowned anger.

David Whyte, in one of his recent essays, speaks of the essence of anger:
“ANGER at its heart, is the deepest form of compassion, for another, for the world, for the self, for a life, for the body, for a family and for all our ideals, all vulnerable and all, possibly about to be hurt. Stripped of physical imprisonment and violent reaction, anger is the purest form of care, the internal living flame of anger always illuminates what we belong to, what we wish to protect and what we are willing to hazard ourselves for.” (from his upcoming book of essays, CONSOLATIONS, a book I am very much looking forward to!)

Can we, can I, learn to live with the “internal living flame of anger” in such a way that it burns clean and bright without turning into a dark poison?

Slow down

It has been a confronting summer. I suddenly have to get used to the fact that my supply of energy is no longer inexhaustible. It seems I have to slow down.

I did not like the idea of slowing down at all. Since my early retirement in 2012, I have had so much fun teaching, learning, dancing, hiking, traveling, and exploring. And now my body has said STOP, in a very clear, not to be misunderstood, way.

My first reaction was to think, Oh no! There must be something wrong. Something that needs fixing. It took awhile to figure out that I might just need a change of pace. And I don’t have to immediately resign myself to “old age” simply because I can’t go at high speeds all the time.

Andrea Juhan, a wonderful dance teacher, uses the term Speed Limit during her Libido workshops. Some of us are very good at exceeding our own speed limits. Have you ever driven a car just a little too fast taking a curve and you realize you need to brake in order to make the curve? But you were having so much fun driving just a wee bit too fast. You exceeded your own (and the car’s) speed limit for that situation.

In relationships we often have difficulty with speed limits. One person wants to go fast and the other is still trying to feel their way into the relationship. Both have to stay true to their own needs. They need to find a delicate balance to stay together. If the individual speed limits are too far apart, this may just not work.

This morning I went dancing again (5Rhythms) for the first time in several months. I took things slowly, one step at a time, listening carefully to how far my body wanted to go and what it needed. At one point, we were asked to move with a partner. I had a young, bouncy partner who needed a lot of energetic movement. It was so tempting to let him pull me into his high tempo. So I consciously applied my own speed limit. Keeping in contact with my own body was more important than keeping in contact with my partner.

On the way home from the workshop, I resisted the temptation to drive fast, savoring the idea that slowing down does have its charms. Plenty of beautiful things to see along the way!

Letting go

The osprey season at Hog Island in Maine has almost drawn to a close. The three chicks all flew from the nest and are living nearby, learning to perfect their flying and fishing skills. Next month they will undertake the long migration flight to South America. We, who watch regularly, know that we will probably see the parents back next year with a new nest. But the chicks, whom we have been studying avidly for the past three-four months, will disappear out of our lives for good.

Some of the 2000+ viewers are already feeling the pang of the empty nest. On the chat, where information, screen captures, and sightings are exchanged, people report tears and an empty feeling. We joke about osprey addiction and withdrawal symptoms, empty nest syndrome, etc. What has happened, is that people became deeply attached to the family life of these birds. This connection was very strong and filled a need for many people. And now they have to let go.

In the Buddhist tradition, attachment is the root of all suffering. And learning to let go of that which you are attached to, is the key to a life without suffering. It took me a very long time to understand and accept this principle. How can I not feel attached to those I love? And this is the crux: can you learn to love without the attachment?

Attachment means that you can no longer live happily if that person/animal/object vanishes from your life. We can also be attached to our life style, our profession, our relatives, our pets, our home… and it is good to appreciate these things. But not to make our happiness depend on them.

We are, at least I am, extremely attached to our children and grandchildren. No grief is bigger than having to mourn the loss of one of these precious people. But being able to let that grief go will not diminish the love that we feel… have always felt… for them.

I try not to say things like this when someone shares their sorrow at the osprey chicks leaving the nest. But observing these reactions was the inspiration for this blog. So here’s to the Hog Island Osprey chicks, who are teaching so many people to let go, with love.

Loneliness

Blue moon
you saw me standing alone
without a dream in my heart
without a love of my own…

How we dread loneliness and still it has inspired so much beautiful poetry, art, song, and literature! When we think of someone as being lonely, our heartstrings are pulled. Empathy floods us, as we realize how terrible it must feel.

I can remember a period in my own life when I felt so very lonely that it seemed as if life was unbearable if I couldn’t share it with someone. And when I look back on that time, what I really remember is how poignant that feeling was. No wonder it inspires the artist in us. When we dare express strong emotions like loneliness and grief, great art emerges, art that can touch the hearts of all the readers/listeners/viewers.

I think that one of the reasons for this, is that the expression of loneliness is really the expression of a much deeper yearning, a longing to feel connected to life itself. To feel connected to the deeper mystery that lies behind our daily lives, whatever name we give to it.

There is an existential aloneness that none of us can escape. Each of us is essentially alone, unique in our experience of life. We can avoid this feeling by focusing on our relationships, our children, our religion, our professional lives, or our social lives. And often we use these things to escape from this awareness of being alone. We dread loneliness in all its forms.

I think the best way to cope with this, is not to try and move away from the feeling of being alone but to move towards it. Don’t try to cover up or escape loneliness by distracting yourself. Allow the loneliness to pull you towards your deeper yearning - the yearning to lead a meaningful life, the yearning to feel connected to something bigger than yourself, the yearning to plumb the depths of your own capacity for expression.

It may lead you to new discoveries about yourself, who knows?


And my sincere apologies to my regular readers for the erratic appearence of the blog these days! As some of you know, I've been working on a book. Which is a challenging experience, to say the least, but it has proven very difficult to combine both types of writing. I will try to bring the frequency back up to normal soon. And I will keep you posted on the book!