Our fits of anger come unannounced and often quite suddenly. They just kind of, sort of, sweep right over you.
They arrive unwelcome, unheralded, and uninvited.
They come like a tropical hurricane, a powerful tempest, with such forceful winds and unbelievably raw power. It is almost impossible to resist anger, because it seems to breathe new life into us.
It awakens us from our complacency and slumber. It anoints us with weapons and armour, sanctioning us with a divine purpose; a holy crusade.
We are shaken from our sleep. Invigorated. Alert. Suddenly, ready for anything.
When anger comes, we know with absolute clarity, exactly what must be done, and that sense of clarity, can be very seductive.
At that moment, you see your enemy, and know exactly who’s done you wrong. You know how to destroy them. You are ready to punch them in the face, and bring them to their knees.
You know what relationship should end. What job needs quitting and what needs to burn.
Anger has a way of turning us into Emperor Nero.
We get a joyful and despicable pleasure in watching Rome burn.
It feels so good. It feels so right. It is right.
But.
The next day, morning always awakes. The sun always breaks after the hurricane and what follows leads us into darkness.
We wake up from our high, and get flung into the pit of despair.
We don’t simply return from our fit of anger to where we began, instead we are flung down, and must rebuild by facing the darkness of our human nature. When thoughts turn to actions, they are less easily repaired, and sometimes, not at all.
Redemption is a fickle matter.
The next morning always comes, and we must regrettably undertake the emotionless task of rebuilding our great city, once again.
If you are older, you have pieced together bits and bits of wisdom along your way, and you know that it only takes one tree to make a thousand matches, but it only takes one match to burn a thousand trees.
(Thank you Stereophonics)
It’s easy to be angry.
It is easy to burn.
It feels great. It’ s even fun to watch on YouTube or the Bachelorette.
It feels good. It’s easy. It’s unbelievably clear. It’s dreadfully satisfying.
But it’s nothing more than a false promise.
Victimhood is easy. Responsibility is hard.
Blaming others is even easier.
It was your mother or perhaps it was your father. Your wife or husband.
It must have been the priest, the rabbi, or the imam.
It was God. Your teachers. Your boss. The whole society. The French, the Germans, the English. The communists, the Muslims, the witches, or the gays. Hell, let’s throw Donald Trump into the equation for good measure.
It is easy to be angry, and there is nothing wrong with being angry either.
Anger is not the problem.
You see. Anger is a precise way of figuring out where you are. It mirrors our level of frustration with our direction, and where we are at this point in our life. It guides our GPS to the understanding of how we got here.
It would be an unfathomable tragedy, if you let our anger go to waste, and let it dictate to our free mind, where we should go, or how we should act.
You either believe you are free, or you do not. There is no try.
Don’t run away from anger. Don’t ever hide from it.
Dance with it.
Maybe not a slow dance, but we can certainly entertain the twist.
We should see anger, not as a battleground for supremacy and control, but as a natural road sign for our journey.
Every human emotion plays a role. It is all part of an incredible weather system that exists in our mind. It is wrong to fight it. We need to do it justice and listen.
When you get angry, meditate, if you’ve picked up the habit, and get still, and learn to calm your mind.
If you’re like me, I also recommend getting something to eat as soon as possible.
Don’t poke the bear.
Let’s do the twist.
Let Rome stand to live another day.
