“Anger is a short madness.”
                             – Horace

 Anger.

Sweet Anger.

It’s like a roller coaster.

You slowly ascend.

You inch to the top. You see the pinnacle, the breaking point, yet you keep inching there. Your heart rate increases, your palms get sweaty, and as you make your ascent to the top, you know you should turn back. You know that on the other side there is a terrible, scary drop. You know you will feel out of control. You know as you race down on the other side, hands in the air flailing and your pretty little face contorted into ugly aspects of your darkest self, you will scream out and make terrible noises. Yet, we go anyway. We ascend, we drop, we scream, we twist, we turn and sometimes we even go upside down.

Then, as we slow down, we suddenly begin to take in the views around us, we feel the stress on our bodies and we emerge weak and beaten and wonder – why the hell did I just do that?

Anger is real and some would say, necessary. I’m not a big fan of anger because it reminds me too much of roller coasters and I really don’t like roller coasters. As a matter of fact, I would say I love to loathe roller coasters. So I avoid both. I try to not let my ego get in the way and I try not to take things personally and I try (try is a key word here – see it repeated over, and over again) not to read into things and freak out and I always try (oh, look there it is again) to cut off the anger before it takes over and I am locked in a roller coaster car with my ego at the controls.

But, I am not always successful.

This weekend was a good example. I was trying to do too much at once. I was trying to solve way too many computer issues (getting my son’s computer to work, getting our new computer onto the internet). As soon as I thought I had taken one step forward, I found myself three steps back. It did not help that I was working between the two computers and they both had very different problems. It also did not help that it was midnight and I had been working on both issues for over three hours. It didn’t help that the music was too loud, the room was too hot, the ice was melting in my ice water and the cats were breathing too loud!!!! AND I wasn’t getting any closer to the solution.

I knew I should stop. I knew I should just call it a night and walk away from all of it. I had (up until that point) such a wonderful day (see previous post). But I couldn’t. There was something in me that wanted it to be done. There was something in me that didn’t want to admit that I couldn’t figure it out. There was my ego yelling at me.  There were those cats breathing loudly on purpose.  There was life happening and I wasn’t having it.

I forgot to breathe. I forgot to be in the present moment. I forgot every, single thing I strive to practice everyday. All I wanted, more than anything at that moment, was to throw both computers out onto the lawn and scream in a hideous voice similar to a banshee. I wanted to have an episode.

I slammed my head down on the desk and with it came an interesting clarity. I thought about slamming it again. Oh, and maybe again – but thought better of it.

Then I realized, I wasn’t just p*ssed off about the computers. I was p*ssed off about a lot of things. I was really p*ssed off about stuff three and four years old. Where was all this bitterness coming from? Who the heck invited bitterness to my little, anger roller coaster party? And why if bitterness was coming was it showing up in an anger costume?

Because the ego had control, baby.

It was taking me for a ride. I was strapped in and out of control.

Whoosh! Throw your hands up.

Now, here I was, knowing that I was becoming the victim of my own mad ego, but how the heck was I going to stop it? How was I going to separate “me” from the “anger,” from the “ego,”and from the “old crap” that was now coming up?

Was the solution a martini?

Possibly.

But I felt I needed to stick with this without the benefit of Grey Goose and a lemon twist because I was having some kind of personality breakthrough.

Oh, you know that girl who writes a blog about being peaceful and present, well she was having a meltdown (don’t think the ego didn’t throw that up at me too).

Just breathing wasn’t going to bring me back to center. I was going to need a superhero, something that could conquer the sick feeling the anger was starting to create in my stomach.

So I sent it a silver bullet.

I sent it Love.

Every single, ugly and angry thought my mind and ego sent at me, I sent it thoughts of loving kindness, compassion, forgiveness and warm fuzzies.

Love conquers all.

Anger isn’t the enemy, but it does conjure up shadows.  When we live from a point of anger, rather than a point of compassion, we skew our view. We see everyone as our enemy and every situation designed for our failure.

“…anger is like fire. It burns it all clean.”
Maya Angelou

But when we recognize anger as an aspect of who we are, it helps us to heal. It leads us to open ourselves up and if we can open ourselves up far enough, we can transform the anger into a higher vibration – maybe even something like compassion or loving kindness.

Anger burns away those dark parts. It releases us. It leads us to grow and to change.

And in the end, when the burning is done, it can, often times, leave us in a better place.

Closer to whole.

The computers are working fine, the cats are breathing fine and I did not consume an entire bottle of Grey Goose. And my center? Oh,I found her, she was standing over by the pretzel stand waiting patiently for me to get off the roller coaster.

Like I said, closer to whole.

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