Ire

I head out for a walk on a pleasant spring evening. I purposefully leave behind my phone and Mp3 player but do wear a FitBit – always trying to count steps….

The air is filled with pollens, the gardens green and colourful. I feel light of body but realise soon enough that I am impatient. My head is filled with previous conversations, repetitious thoughts and frustrations and I feel revved-up. Distance passes swiftly, momentum gained with each internal scowl.

I continue my bothersome journey, enjoying the walking, trying to figure out a solution or argue my point. I feel a lack of passion, wishing I knew what-to-do to ease my discomfort. I wish I could feel passion for something. Anything. I breathe in for 4 steps, out for 8. I am still holding my breath so I breathe in for 4 steps, out for 10. Now I’ve let out all of my breath and go back to 4-8.

I reach my destination – to water a plant that I had planted in a garden recently. I turn on the hose and am aware of guests wandering around the garden. They don’t notice me. The water sprays my plant and it hits me – I am angry. I am in awe of the simplicity and purity of my diagnosis. Anger. I feel anger.

Me to a T (image sourced from http://projectlosssheep.blogspot.com.au/)

I feel it. I feel what anger feels like. I am angry at the cigarette butt someone has carelessly thrown in my planted garden. I am angry that my mattress is terrible and I wake with a sore back every morning. I am angry that I forgot to make a few phone calls today. I am angry that housework issues linger without resolution. I am angry that I feel undervalued by my boss, my dad, my partner and many others. I am angry that I have so little time in my day to sort my shit out. I am angry that I am slightly good at many things, terrible at others. I am angry that I balk and fear so many challenges. I am angry at the injustices of women. I am angry at politicians and world leaders. I am angry at dishonesty. I am angry that I feel so powerless to help any cause, that my efforts seem so futile.

I am calm in my anger. I start watering other plants, noticing the quiet raging in my heart and body.

The walk home is not so enlightening but I enjoy my new awareness. I have shied away from anger. I haven’t had healthy dealings with it, tending to repress or very occasionally fly off the rails. This experience of anger feels safe. No distress, no confrontation, just sensation.

I’m hoping I continue to explore anger as the need arises, to feel and express this emotion in healthy creative ways.

And I found some passion to write. Win-win.

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About

Of the female variety and hungry for knowledge, truth and love.

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Posted in Inner World, Life, Me Me Me!, Spirituality
One comment on “Ire
  1. Anger and sleeplessness have been with me right along.

    I so love my bits of alone time late at night and before dawn while everyone is sleeping, so my sleep deprivation tends to be a choice. But as a result I have learned to sleep almost everywhere.

    As I have grown older my anger has grown softer, and of course awareness helps. So I meditate and practice and find I can catch myself more often before I cross the Rubicon.

    Thich Nhat Hanh says that anger is suffering and advises us to view our anger as our child (who is apparently having a tantrum) and embrace it with love. I have found this useful sometimes.

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