I have an anger...

I have an anger, but it isn't the "good" kind.  You know the kind I mean?  That self-righteous anger that can flare up, fill you with a surge of adrenaline and make you feel alive?  The anger of road-rage, of pure indignation and "how could you?".  The kind of anger that burns quickly and completely and then *poof* dissipates, leaving almost as quickly as it swelled.

That's not what my anger is like.

This is an old anger.  One with tendrils, like the bamboo in my backyard.  We pulled it out when we moved in five years ago, but every once in awhile a new, proud shoot juts up through the dirt.  We try to pull it out, but the root travels across the whole yard, it doesn't budge.  The shoot has to be cut, which really only ensures that we will be cutting lots of shoots for a long time to come.

Cutting those shoots without pulling out the roots feels similar to the way I have interacted with this anger.  I've tried to "fix" it: to dress it up in joy, smother it with love, disguise it with cheerfulness.  I've tried to douse it with tears, offer it to God, and, finally, to convince myself that it was spent.

It wasn't.

This fall has been a quiet one because the anger was welling up, a tidal force that finally...blessedly...hit my shores last week.  I am so thankful for its ostentatious arrival, because I cannot ignore it any longer.

This anger is old.  This anger runs deep.  Balms, salves, ice, none of that soothes the burn.  And so, I will be with it.  It is not *who* or *what* I am, it is one of many emotions.  It is a "dark night".  It is a demand that I turn inward and feel the complexity of who and what I truly am.  The Light and the Shadow.  The flow of life and the log-jams of my own creation.

I may not befriend it and invite it to stay, but I know that it will not be ignored for another moment.  And so I will sit with it, listen to it, let it talk itself hoarse and burn itself to ashes.  I will feel it as completely as I know how.

I am finally, thankfully, courageous enough to be angry.

Comments

[Crystal]

That was beautiful and honest and raw. Thank you for sharing and reminding us that we may be familiar with that same "relationship".

[Sharon]

Makes me want to take you out for wine. You down?
*hugs* and prayers!