Until around 14 years old when I consciously decided to turn it off.
I don’t remember the chain of events that led me to the conclusion, but I remember deciding never to be angry again. I decided it wasn’t a good emotion and I wasn’t going to feel it any more.
And I did a masterful job.
I became such an expert at morphing my anger into any other emotion that I stopped being able to even register anger.
I would rationalize my way to compassion in a nano second.
Or I would turn the anger in on myself and go to sadness or shame.
Or I would mine straight past the anger looking for the emotion beneath it. Usually fear or insecurity.
I know exactly how to process all these other emotions.
Maybe that sounds drastic, but if you look around you might be surprised how rampant this is.
We all run from emotions, misunderstand them, bottle them, confuse them, fear them, blame them, hate them, hide from them, disguise them, refuse them, ignore them.
We just don’t realize it.
In big ways and small ways. Everyday.
I am an expert at emotions. Because of the way I am built, it was a necessity for me to become an expert, and always keep studying.
It took many many years before I truly started learning to feel safe feeling my anger again.
I’m still learning, and it’s beautiful.
The other night I was angry. For no discernible reason. I did the usual things to feel it, allow it, process it, but it came back again and again. So I knew it needed a voice.
I went for a walk under the full moon and I voiced my anger. All the things, I let anger say how pissed she was about them.
Under it I saw fear and shame hiding. Anger often comes to protect them (me).
She’s a well armed bad ass after all. I’m always grateful she’s on my team.
The next morning I woke up at 5:30 to the giant full moon shining across the ocean and into my window.
Anger was back.
So I crawled into pajamas and drove to the ocean. I sat and watched the full moon across the water. Behind me the sun was playing at rising above the clear mountains.
I sat with my anger and my fear and my shame.
I cried and I raged. And I shared them so bravely.
Then I saw the dolphins. They came in close to the shore. They swam back and forth in front of me and jumped and twirled.
I heard it loud and clear.
We love you.
The dolphins, the moon, the sun, the mountains, the ocean, this island.
They love me. They love me in my humanness, in my rage, that I sometimes feel lonely and needy, in my fear or shame that this means I’m not enough.
In my bravery and vulnerability in sharing my truth, and standing in it, they love me.
No matter what I do or who I am they just keep loving me.
That night, as I danced wildly in Buddhi Yoga, they showed me another truth. And I came all the way back to my empowerment. I came all the way back to loving me in all those ways.
What is it for you?
The emotion you don’t feel safe to feel?
Are you curious to explore the depths of what it has to offer?
You’re not alone in this.
I’m here.
And Anger has my back, and she’s armed to the teeth.
And at her back are mountains, dolphins, an ocean, a sun and a moon.
You are not alone.
