How am I benefitting from holding onto this anger?

Four questions to consider when we're frustrated + ragey

There’s something in my life that’s creating a lot of anger in my body. I notice a few threads twisting all over the place so thought I’d tug on a few to see what might unravel.

Let’s ease through a few questions:

Where is the anger showing up in my body?

I notice my jaw feels tight. My hands clench. My shoulders tense and rise. When I think about the situation, I feel my throat grow tight with rage and anger.

What’s underneath the anger?

Fear.
Uncertainty.
Grief.

Anger is a secondary emotion. It’s often pointing to another vulnerable emotion that likes an extra bit of protection.

Anger is also pointing to my values. It’s reminding me that something important is at stake.

How am I benefitting from holding onto this anger?

I hate this question. But I’ve been at this long enough to know this question is a valuable one. It has a way of slicing to the core of a tangled thread. My ego has a lot riding on me not being honest about this question. Holding onto the anger is doing something for me. It’s supporting my belief that I’m in the right and someone else is in the wrong. As long as I’m angry, I’m holding the narrative that it’s all them.

If only they’d fix their part, then I could let go.
If I hurt them back, it’ll finally make it right.
My anger is how I keep my story on repeat.
They hurt me. How can I let this go?

We’ve named the myth of redemptive violence before. It’s a bit of that in action again. We really do sometimes believe hurting someone back will make it even or right or fair. But it never really does. It only keeps the violence in circulation.

Photo by Tine Ivanič on Unsplash

The epic next-level-move is to go inside ourselves and listen to the anger. Let it speak its mind. Feel it. Offer compassion and empathy to the part of ourselves that’s hurting. Zero rush.

We choose not to off load the strong emotions moving through our body. We might shake our arms, punch a pillow, scream silently or scream out loud. We allow that deeply valid energy to move through us without adding our own mental narrative to it.

We remind ourselves what’s most true. We are made of love and it’s okay to feel pain. Anger is part of what it means to be alive on this planet. It points us toward justice and reconciliation. Anger helps us learn to set boundaries. We can feel it without setting up camp for decades inside it.

Then the ultimate tricky question presents itself:

Do I *want* to release this anger?

This challenges my dependence on what the anger does for me. How is it that sometimes it feels harder to step toward love than anger?

We know we’re getting somewhere holy when we feel the nauseous nakedness of vulnerability.

The protections of ego are falling away.

All that’s left is beautiful you and what’s most true.

Maybe, in the end, that’s all you need.

Photo by Sage Friedman on Unsplash

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Books

• Still Here: A Poetry Memoir of Grief & Love

• I Have Some Things To Tell You: A Pastor Says Goodbye During a Pandemic

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On a recent drive in Oregon, I hit stop and go traffic right by Multnomah Falls. I delighted in snapping a few photos of the popular waterfall from the interstate without having to even get out of my car to navigate the sunny Sunday crowds!