“Our feelings control us when we subvert them and are no longer aware they exist.” ~Theodore Isaac Rubin, MD
I’m Angry. Yep, really angry. Seething; furious; upset; frustrated. I’m filled with disgust and disdain. These are feelings I’m not used to; nor comfortable with. Most of you know me as Little Miss Sunshine, Happy-go-lucky and Rebecca of Sunny Brook Farm.
Anger scares me. I feel as though I’m ill equipped to cope with this emotion. I’m afraid it will take me over in some way. Yet, I’m not going to deny it or ignore it or push it away this time. I feel like a foreigner in new country experiencing strange customs and bizarre encounters. And I’m uncomfortable and somewhat exhilarated to see who I will be and what I will experience on this new journey.
Anger is a part of being human – one thread in the tapestry of the human experience. Of course I’ve known this intellectually for a long time. But have I let myself embrace my anger? No. Thanks to my own work with my coach, I’m intentionally creating a space in my life for my anger. It is taking some effort because it’s so new for me to stay with it not ignore nor deny it. I’m also up against centuries’ of cultural conditioning that has labeled anger; wrong, bad even evil. For women especially to feel anger not to mention express it – is still taboo.
Anger Insight #1
You don’t have to actually DO anything about your anger.
Oh you may, of course:
*Take a knife to a huge watermelon
*Scream into your pillow every curse word you know
*Throw plates into your fireplace
*Listen to loud head banging music
*Dance/Thrash/Exercise it consciously through your body
*Journal with a red pen
*Watch Clint Eastwood movies
But creating a space for you to be with your anger doesn’t mean you have to tell your boss off, curse out a relative or tell your lover to go to hell. All you need to do is feeeeel it and not rush past it. It won’t be pleasant and that’s okay, you’ll survive.
That belief was one of the reasons I’ve kept mine at bay. I thought you had to act when you felt anger. That it required an external response in some way, a sort of “announcement.” This is a misnomer. On occasion we will be called to act and express it, you betcha! And yet most times our anger will ask of us to simply give it room and time to process. So let it. Let it breath, seethe, flare and flame. Acknowledging it, allowing it and accepting it will do you a world of good. And like a storm at sea it will pass. No emotion lasts forever.
How do you do with your anger? Do you make it wrong or feel guilty or bad when it shows up? It’s the bastard child, we’ve all been taught to disown and abandon. We shut it up and out with overeating; drinking; drugs; TV; sex and overworking. And we wonder why we have violence in our streets and our homes. To deny it causes either a slow toxicity within creating disease or an explosion of verbal or physical hostility.
In this angry mood today I rode the subway and met Deidre. We both shared our anger about the subway system and the impending fare hike; we complained about our politician’s in Albany. We ranted and moaned. If I had over-heard this conversation in the past I’d have judged it as “negative” or made it wrong in some way. Meanwhile it helped us to both “clear.” Feeling our feelings, and expressing them enables us all to both move forward with our day not to mention our life.
Anger awakens us. You feel alive after you’ve fully experienced it. And what’s so amazing is that no one need know. It’s yours and yours alone. Just like being in love. Or experiencing grief. Or joy. Or relief. Taste your feelings even the ones that you’ve denied….let them sit on your tongue and savor each one. This is what it means to be alive. What it means to be human. There’s bitter and there’s sweet. And they all have a place on the palate of our life.
In The Angry Book by Dr. Theodore Isaac Rubin he opens with this quote from Joseph Conrad; “There is no rest for a messenger ’til the message is delivered.” Allow the messages your Being needs to deliver to yourself to finally arrive. Bar none. And finally you will rest easy.
An Open Letter for those with less than ideal Mothers or no Mother at all:
I loved and still love my mother, don’t get me wrong. But she wasn’t an ideal mother. This takes a lot of courage for me to admit, even to myself, because on so many levels I felt love from her and with all I now know about her, I still would not trade her for anything, but in these years since her death I’ve had the freedom to slowly come to grips with just how mentally unhealthy she was and because of this how much wounding this caused that I continue to heal from.
So if your mother was less than ideal or if you grew up motherless, would you be willing to celebrate yourself today? Would you be willing to honor your own ability to self-mother yourself? (Male or female, we all have mothering qualities within us.) Because YOU are what has gotten yourself through all these years without one and that is one amazing feat and I say it’s about time you honor yourself.
Buy yourself a beautiful bouquet of flowers today, take yourself out to brunch. Walk in the fresh golden air of this lovely day, in your favorite park and praise yourself for all you have been through and risen above, doing it all without the ideal mother’s love. Allow Gaia, the Mother Goddess to cradle you. Honor and allow any pain, anger disappointment and grief you feel in the midst of this day as you watch what appear to be “perfect” mothers around you. Allow yourself to feel what you do without making any of it wrong or feeling guilty in any way.
For those unsure about what an ideal mother’s love looks like here are some basic rights that we all have in every relationship, including with our mothers:
To feel safe in the relationship
To be treated respectfully
To not be abused verbally, emotionally, or physically
To be heard
To be appreciated and valued
To have your privacy and boundaries respected
To have your needs met
To feel good about yourself in the relationship
If these rights are not or were not honored by your mother, then I ask you to begin to honor them for yourself, in your own heart and with your own love.
I honor and give thanks to the amazing mother within you!
Wild Geese by Mary Oliver
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about your despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting –
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.
Let me explain. My mama was one of those mama’s that really DID up the holidays. Every Easter my sister and I would get ourselves a beautiful pastel wicker basket filled with good jelly beans, quality chocolate bunny rabbits, yellow marshmallow Peep chicks, a brand new stuffed animal (my sister would get a aqua blue ribbon trimmed one and I a pink trimmed one) along with our own box of Mallomars. Back then they came in two cardboard boxes and I’d usually have polished off an entire box, feeling slightly ill on the way to church.
We would also search in the morning for the Paas decorated hard boiled eggs that our mom would have hidden the night before.
A new purple or white dress from Sears my sister and I would be excited to wear along with the white patent leather Mary Jane’s, since officially as of Easter Sunday, white shoes could be worn again.
Those times were like Normal Rockwell in so many ways. Of course things weren’t perfect, but my mother had the ability to create tradition such that whatever was going on these holiday times were magical.
I appreciate these traditions, now more than ever. There isn’t a box of Mallomars or a package of the yellow Peep chicks that doesn’t fill my heart with the love my mama had for me and my sister.
Easter, Passover and Spring Equinox have this all in common: New Life thanks to Love.
We all have choice every day we wake up, to live our life anew. As the flowers begin to blossom, as the leaves begin to grow back, bring your favorite memories with you into your New Spring, into your New Life. Spring is a fresh start. Where in your life do you want that fresh start? It’s yours for the taking! So go for it.
And while you’re at it -bring along those mallomars!
Mallomars
In the US Mallomars [19] are produced seasonally at Nabisco. A circle of Graham cracker is covered with a puff of extruded marshmallow, then “enrobed” in dark chocolate, which forms a hard shell. Mallomars were introduced to the public in 1913, the same year as the Moon Pie (a confection which has similar ingredients). The first box of Mallomars was sold in West Hoboken, NJ (now Union City, NJ). Nabisco discusses it with a short story printed on Mallomar boxes.
Because Mallomars melt easily in summer temperatures, they can become difficult to find during the summer: they are generally available from early October through April. [20]Devoted eaters of the cookie have been known to stock up during winter months and keep them refrigerated over the summer. Seventy percent of all Mallomars sold are sold in metropolitan New York.
