Alchemy of Anger

"When we avoid difficult emotions, we lose access to the deepest parts of ourselves."

— Susan David

 The world feels like an angry place lately.  And I personally am exhausted by it. 

Amid all the anger, I am reminded daily on social media that I to CAN find happiness, learn how to be my best self, and find my purpose.  But perhaps I am just not looking hard enough.  Or in the right places.  Shame and inadequacy jumping on the anger bandwagon already rolling around in my head. 

It feels like focusing purely on joy or happiness has become another way to deny the anger I feel.  Denial of a very real and legitimate emotion that is a part of everyday life.  I wonder sometimes if it is my unwillingness to acknowledge anger that is making me angrier.  Don’t get me wrong, I see plenty of angry posts on social media too.  I am not talking about collective anger.  I am simply trying to understand what it means to me personally.  Anger can make me feel justified with its power or completely disconnected and “wrong.”  Am I the only one?

I have been looking for better ways, “healthier” ways, to get the energy of all that anger out of my body.  Dancing, screaming, hitting pillows, journaling, kick boxing, any way to let the energy of anger go.  Quite frankly, I feel sorry for the little yellow tennis balls that have been my focus lately.  😂 But anger helps to channel my energy when I am on the court.  Nature, exercise, meditation…. they all work.  Yet, I still feel like I am just re-directing my emotion, not acknowledging anger.  Not making sense of it. 

I am reading “The Book of Alchemy” by Suleika Jaouad.  It is a series of writing prompts to stimulate creativity.  Last Sunday’s offering was on “noticing.”  Specifically, focusing on those people and things that we love or find value in that are “hiding in plain sight.”  Who we might be with or things we walk by every day without giving a second thought.  I wrote about my current obsession with bugs.

Each morning, as I walk the dog, I have been noticing the bugs scurrying across the sidewalk.  The sidewalks in my neighborhood are extra wide, nice for accommodating lots of people, dogs and the bicycles (which are supposed be on the street, another source of anger…but we can discuss that another time).  As I observed the bugs, I found myself dancing around them in a strange stutter step, doing my best to avoid every one of them.  Noticing that they were also just out enjoying the morning.  Trying to get their “errands” done before the heat of the day set in.  Tending to their world, their families.  And I wondered what crossing that sidewalk looked like from their perspective.  A vast white expanse that I imagined was like trying to cross the Sahara.  Or perhaps they crossed it every morning and for them it was just their normal “commute.” And I certainly wonder what my size 11 white sneakers coming at them felt like. 

On Saturday, I went to pull weeds in the garden.  A long overdue task.  As I pulled, I noticed under the weeds, several “roly-poly” bugs, the ones that curl into a ball when you pick them up, scurrying for safety under the flagstones.  I wanted the weeds gone but understood that I was also taking away their home.  The homes they had established due to my allowing the weeds to go unchecked.  Was this like someone losing their home in a flood or war or a wildfire?  Here one minute, gone the next?

Sitting quietly on a Sunday morning, writing about noticing bugs while sipping on my coffee, I also started to focus on the coffee and the mug.  Who grew the coffee?  Where in the world were they?  Who harvested it and packaged it?  How did it get to me?  How many “hands” had played a roll in getting me this simple cup of coffee?  Same with the mug.  A giant thing I ordered from Amazon.   Where did it come from?  Did all the people around the world involved in this simple cup of coffee also have the luxury of sitting in their beautiful home on a quiet Sunday morning?  What were they doing with their families?  Could they even afford a cup of coffee? 

Noticing.  I am not looking for a new career in entomology and, while I am a classic over thinker, I wasn’t trying to “solve” these issues.  I was just noticing them.  Getting curious.  Paying attention to what was right in front of me.  Feeling grateful for what I DO have.  Not searching for my better self or purpose.  Not feeling like I must be missing something because I don’t have the same happiness that the curated version of someone on Instagram says is possible.  Simply noticing life.  And being grateful for it.

In noticing what was going on right in front of me, it redirected my energy closer to home.  At the same time, it made me feel more connected with the world - especially with everyone who, in doing their job, made my Sunday more relaxing.  Understanding that where I live and how I live is NOT how most of the world lives, it also gave me compassion for how hard it is to just “be” in this world.  Gratitude and compassion helped temper my more generalized anger.  I realized that most of my anger was because I feel powerless to change so many of the world’s issues.  But I can choose to pay attention to the bugs and let them cross the road.  Or maybe not dig up all their homes.  Some of the weeds are still there.  Or feel love and gratitude for someone halfway around the world.  That their efforts were now what I held in my hand. 

When I am angry, I want answers.  I want to know why an issue can’t be resolved, why people are suffering, why I can’t change my life despite all my attempts.  What I am “noticing” is that anger is easy.  It’s my default.  It is easier to be angry than to take the time to “notice” what is happening and work to find an internal resolution. If I can find someone to “blame” then perhaps I will be able to move on, or perhaps the world will find peace.  Simply find who is “wrong” and call them out.  Wanting answers is easy, but most of life has no answer.  Just one question leading to another and to another. 

The same book had a quote from Rainer Maria Rilke:

“Have patience with everything unresolved in your heart, and try to love the questions themselves, as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language.  Don’t search for the answers which could not be given to you now because you would not be able to live them…. Live the questions now.  Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer.”

Perhaps the only thing I can do is “notice” anger, let it have its place.  I don’t have an answer for most of my anger in the same way that I have no idea whether the bug crosses the sidewalk every day or if it is a once in a lifetime journey.  The answer doesn’t really matter.  It’s the noticing, the questioning that is the important part.  For when I don’t notice my world, my thoughts tend to run my life in unproductive and, well, angry, ways. 

Noticing my world feels doable.  Manageable.  Like I have a choice in how I live my life.  In what I feel.  Noticing brings up gratitude for what I DO have, not what I see as missing.  When I live in the space of assigning blame or looking for answers, I feel resentment and frustration. 

It’s hard enough to just be here and make it through my own day.  When I notice the simple struggles faced by others, whether it is a bug or someone halfway around the world, it allows me to put things in perspective.  I have so much to be grateful for, right here, right now, right in front of me.  I will never be able to solve the huge problems facing us, but if I can bring some peace into my own space, maybe it will radiate out in its own way, and I believe that must count for something.  At the very least, it fills ME with more gratitude than anger.  And there is something to be said for that….

Noticing cannot alchemize anger into gratitude any more than alchemy can turn iron into gold.  But stopping to notice our world can give us a different perspective on what matters on any given day.  What can you notice today?

Much love,

Lisa

Lisa Hamil is a founding member and host for The SOS Collective, an online international women’s recovery and support group.  However, this blog and any classes or coaching offered by Lisa Hamil LLC are separate from and not affiliated in any way with The SOS Collective.