On anger

I see a lot of anger in the world. I see it in the news, sometimes in the home, sometimes at work. The president of the United States is one angry scold. Congress is angry because they are some of the most hated people in the country and they refuse to know why. Israel is angry because they continually heap shit on the Palestinians instead of seeing them as the human beings they really are.

I think that is the problem with anger. Anger blinds us to the humanity around us. Anger blocks empathy. Anger says the world must change in order for me to be happy. Unfortunately, the world really doesn't care about your anger, or my anger, or the anger of someone I love and care for.

If you want to know anger, try growing up with an alcoholic. For me, that's my dad. I love him to pieces, I really do. But you've never ever met the ultimate contrarian until you've met him. That is one of those things I love about him and hate about him. I say "yes", he says "no". Whatever I did, he took the opposite side. Punishment was swift and severe. There were no appeals. That was my life when I was a kid.

Dad taught me to think outside of the box, to expand the terms of engagement in debate. I don't know if that was a conscious effort on his part. But I really learned to be diplomatic because as an adult, I never knew if I was dealing with someone else who is like my dad. So I'm cautious with others.

Things are different now. I can walk away and he knows it. He can to, but we're waiting for him to come back. Part of controlling anger is knowing that some things cannot be undone, some things cannot be unsaid. Sometimes there is only forgiveness left. Sometimes, that is all one can do.

My first steady date as a young man taught me something about anger. I broke up with her. I didn't do it very gracefully for I lacked certain skills of social grace. I figured I would find someone before her, but biology had its way with us. She found someone first and I was livid.

At first, I found it hard to control my rage. While sitting on the potty in my apartment, I sent my elbow through a door. I called her and said angry, spiteful things. I really caused her suffering, but I also caused myself suffering, I just didn't see it that way. Not for a long, long time.

Within a year or two, I found myself in a night school class, "Don't Be Shy". I started to learn some social graces. I found a therapist, Jason. Red hair, red beard, very gentle demeanor. I got in touch with my anger. I bought a baseball bat and went to the park late at night. I found a secluded spot of sand and beat the living shit out of the sand while screaming at the top of my lungs. I did that for a few weeks until I was tired of doing it.

I didn't want to hurt anyone so I pounded sand, and I didn't want to expose anyone to such undiluted rage for fear of showing others how I really felt, so I did all that work in seclusion. I told someone about what I did those nights and he told me that I added years back to my life by that expression. I don't know about that, but I did feel better for a time after each session. Therapy continued. I was, in the words of my therapist, "a man who could hardly wait to jump out of his skin".

I did lots meetings, journaling, therapy, whatever it took for me to be sane. I was functional. I was working, earning a living, crying at the freight elevators, as a sheet metal worker. Eventually, I quit that and took some time off to figure myself out. I had a long, lost weekend.

Eventually, I came back to life. Got a regular job. Figured out that I'm good with computers and helping people with computers. Decades of all that work on myself got me married, with kids, a house, a couple of cars and some neat stuff. But in all of that, it's the people that shine through. People I will never forget.

Anger runs in my family. My grandparents were angry. My maternal grandmother hit the roof when, as a young boy, I read one of her letters. My paternal grandmother was angry at my dad. My dad was angry. I think my mother was angry at times, too, but it was hard to tell. I think she hid it well.

As an older, middle aged adult, I know my anger well. I know how to let it pass. I know how to pray until it passes. I know how to write into the dead of night until it passes. I know who to call. I know what to say. I know that my anger is never justified because I don't know the state of the other person who just happens to be the object of my anger. I never know the full story.

So it is with any unrest in me, I settle that first in myself before I do anything stupid. Anger is every bit as effective and persuasive as alcohol when it comes to stupidity. When people are angry, they are blind. Not just blind as in sight, but as in mind as well. I know this from personal experience as I have paid the cost of anger many times.

I know now how to feel the feeling and let it pass before I let my lips loose. I know the feeling of breaking something, or someone's trust in anger. So I let that feeling pass and wait until consciousness returns before I take any action. I let the livid thoughts run their course, but do nothing to anyone or anything while they run. I write. I walk, I exercise. I talk to someone who is a disinterested third party that I trust.

I check my thoughts, plans and actions. If, during contemplation of doing anything, my chest or stomach burn, I stop, recalculate, and keep processing until that feeling passes. For I know that if I do something that causes me distress in my chest or stomach, I will surely regret the outcome. That is the measure of my morality. Morality doesn't come from a book. It comes from the stomach and chest.

When I know that my plan of action is clear of any strong feelings of fear, anger, or shame, then I can proceed. Often, the plan is to do nothing and watch what happens next. Often the problem that I thought was so bad, works out to my benefit without my intervention. Know that when I say, "to my benefit" that does not mean, "someone else's downfall". My brain is simply no match for the universe, and upon realization of that, I have found many unexpected gifts from the universe.

I have had revenge and it is not sweet, even by someone else's inadvertent hand. I know the bitter taste of revenge and have sworn off of it, so completely. I know if that if I hurt you, I hurt me. It is simply not possible to hurt someone else without hurting yourself. I've tried it and it doesn't work.

So I err on the side of peace. And I'm very good at it. I am an expert at de-escalation. I know how to keep talking, just like Mel Gibson in Beverly Hills Cop. I know how to keep talking until people can find a way to soothe themselves, like I know how to do for myself. I model this for my kids and anyone around me. I avoid escalation at all costs.

I do this because I know the costs of escalation. I know people can say things they really don't mean in the heat of the moment. I am a very forgiving and patient person, not because I want to be, but because I can think through the consequences of my actions. They might be giants and I don't want to know how far someone will go to prove they're right when they're angry.

I know the regret of acting in anger, so I don't do it. I know the peace of waiting until the feeling passes so I do that. Every time. It's easy to see later on, when things are calm. Not so easy to see in the heat of the moment. When we learn to let that heat pass, we will know peace.

I know this is a long wandering article, but it's been on my mind for awhile now. If you read this far, thank you. See you at my next post.

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