Authors: Judy Ford
Because society needs people who conform to its norms, it imposes its rules and values on us as we grow up. The only thing we possess to counteract society's pressure is our feelings, and one of those protective feelings is anger. That angry voice inside you is like David standing up to Goliath—it calls you to right action.
You know you're on the road to healing when you start feeling angry. The anger may not be specific or related to anything you can identify; it may be a generalized anger that you can't pin down. Used in a positive way, that anger will empower you to move forward. “Aren't you mad that your husband died?” people asked me. I'd shrug my shoulders and say, “I don't know.” Initially I was too numb to feel mad. It was only as I was getting better, coming out of the shock, that I started to feel. And I felt a wide range of anger, from mildly annoyed to downright infuriated. I realized that I would have to manage my anger or it could destroy me.
The higher road to anger management involves asking yourself, “What is going on here? What does it have to do with me? What do I have to learn? What positive impact can I make?” It's waiting, pausing, figuring out what is going on before opening your mouth, before taking any action. It's being grateful for what you're discovering.
Anger is a crucial shove toward determining priorities, values, needs, your bottom line. It's a beacon shedding light on the kind of person you want to be and the virtues you want to embrace. Taking time to consider how you want to live your life, what your needs and priorities are is walking the higher road. When you find yourself reacting like an explosive device, try stepping back and asking yourself these questions: “Is this how I want to behave? Is this the life I want to be living? Is this who I am?” If you find yourself chronically angry, it's a signal that you've been avoiding these questions.
How you feel is up to you. No one else has anything to say about it. And in a sense, it isn't even up to you. How you feel is simply how you feel. That's it! And when you get that, when you fully appreciate and honor that, you will instantly be a stronger and more fulfilled human being. Because even more important than what you feel is how you feel about what you feel. When you feel OK about your feelings, regardless of what they are, your self-esteem is unassailable and you're no longer mad all the
time.
When you admit that destructive expressions of anger are causing problems in your life, then you're walking the higher road. When you find constructive outlets for your pent-up energy, when you demonstrate a willingness to do something positive and creative with your anger, you're becoming emotionally mature.
Examining your anger and using it to understand who you are is right action. It puts you in the presence of the Divine.
A burst of irritation, like spontaneous laughter, let's you know that you're alive. Being alive means you have lessons to learn, mistakes to make, challenges to face, painful growth to experience, and fears to overcome. Life is a glorious gift. Everything is divine, including me and you. We can learn from everything—even anger and fear.
After taking an anger management class, James acknowledged, “Most of my anger has to do with unmet needs and fears. I'd come home from work and if things weren't the way I wanted, I'd get mad. I alienated my wife and scared my kids. I know now that anger covers up my fear, but since a man is not supposed to be afraid, I'd get mad instead.”
Anger seldom comes by itself; fear almost always accompanies it. Fear and anger are roadblocks to happiness. If you sense that you are standing on the sidelines while your life is passing you by, that's an indication that fear has taken hold. You have permission to hold onto fear as long as you want, but it will exhaust you and keep you from living. Fear paralyzes you. It wraps you in a blanket of passive resignation, unable to participate in life. Maggie is afraid of flying. She resents her friends when they take vacations and don't choose spots within driving distance. But so far she hasn't done anything about it except grow bitter.
Whatever you fear is the very thing that you must tackle. I don't mean that you must go bungee jumping because you're afraid of heights, but if you're afraid of flying, it could be beneficial to take a course. Afraid of applying for a job, anxious about calling your mother- in-law and asking her to baby-sit, afraid of talking to the dentist about the bill? Afraid of asking your boss for a raise? Whatever you are dreading, that's the thing you must face.
You may not be able to drop fear completely, but you can overcome it by getting comfortable with the sensations of fear in your body. When you're fearful you start to tremble and shake, to quiver and quake. Let the fear take possession. Enjoy it! If you're afraid of fear, you really will be paralyzed. You will not live totally. You may be attracted to woman or a man but you hold back, and soon you're missing life. Fear and anger are debilitating.
All self-doubts are based in fear. We think, “It's too late for me,” or “I'd like to, but. . . ,” or “What difference will it make?” or “It's too hard,” or “I'm
too old, too fat, too ugly, not smart enough.” It takes guts and courage to uncover the fear beneath resignation, but don't you think it's worth it?
At the bottom of anger are two big fears—the fear of living and the fear of dying.
One way to rid yourself of the bondage of resentment is to write a “mad list” and then take your grudges to the dump. The purpose of a mad list is not to enflame grudges or to keep them burning, but to face them squarely, to see what constructive action you can take, and then let go of them once and for all.
In a journal or on a long roll of butcher paper (my women's groups like to use butcher paper and colored markers), write down all your grudges, resentments, hurts, and disappointments. Label your list: “Things That Have Made Me Mad, Hurt Me, Caused Me Disappointment.” Trace the old nagging anger back to its root cause. Where does it come from? Whose voice do you hear? What happened? Divide your life into decades, starting with the first ten years, followed by the next ten years, and so on, until you arrive at today. Write everything down. Don't be picky; get it all out. Write as much as you can, then put it aside for a day or two. Come back to your list, read it over and add to it. Remember this is not the time for editing; it's OK to list all the picky little annoyances as well the major disappointments, hurts, and resentments. You're not hurting anyone by putting it out on paper. You're cleaning out, ridding yourself of garbage. Listing residual resentments gives you perspective on your personal history and the part you played.
If you sense that you have resentments but can't identify them, think about those times when you were mistreated and misunderstood, the times when you were overlooked and unappreciated. Chances are good that there's a resentment that's tied up with it. Think about your school years—there's plenty of misery tied up there. What about that love affair that ended unhappily? What has been your biggest disappointment in each decade? Write down your heartaches and regrets. Erica's list went like this:
First decade: My parents liked my brother best. It's affected my adult relationship with him.
Second decade: My parents got divorced; my brother had more freedom than I did. My mother remarried right away and I hated my stepfather.
Third decade: I married my husband and dropped out of college.
Fourth decade: I resent my husband because I really want to finish school.
After you've written your list, read it over and think about what part you contributed to the situations. Erica said, “My brother tries to be friends, but because I still resent him I don't give him a chance. I need to make amends to him. My stepfather tried to help me, but I felt disloyal to my father so I wouldn't cooperate. I want to apologize to him and my mother. I haven't expressed to my husband how much I want to go back to school, and I need to do that too.”
Cleaning the storehouse of resentments frees you from the past. Instead of relating to her brother as if he is still Mom's favorite, Erica can relate to him as he is today and forge an adult friendship. Instead of feeling like a helpless victim of her stepfather, she can see how she contributed to the misunderstandings. Instead of expecting her husband to read her mind, Erica now takes responsibility for working out the financial matters so that she can complete her schooling.
Focusing on grudges is time-limited—devote one a week or at the most two. Write your list and clean up your part. Once you've done that, crinkle up the list, tear it to shreds, and take it to the dump.
Anger is a useful emotion when it leads to personal awakening and compassionate action.
Your first reaction will probably be to skip this one, but I advise that you don't. Remember that there's an entire religion based on the premise that confession is good for the soul. The fourth step of twelve-step recovery programs involves confiding your resentments to a trusted confidante. Even if you can't tell the person you are angry with that you are—maybe they're dead or you have a restraining order against them—you still need to tell someone. It's a two-part confession: You acknowledge how you were hurt and angered by what happened and you acknowledge the part you played. The purpose of doing this is so that you don't waste any more precious energy bottling it up. When you acknowledge your anger and the part you've played, you're no longer a moody victim.
When we share our concerns with others, it speeds up the resolution, it unites us in our humanity. We find out that we're not alone. We've all made mistakes. We can learn from each other, correct our faulty thinking, and move on. In the process we help each other.
Ask a friend if she'd be willing to listen to your “mad list.” I suggest making an appointment so that you can devote as much time as you need to the experience. A secluded place out of doors—perhaps in a park, by a river, on a mountain, or at the beach—is a favorable site for a confession. Speaking it outside, where the trees and sky can hear you and absorb your resentments, is an empowering experience.
The very moment you acknowledge your anger to another person, you are spiritually set free.