Much of my present day responses to anger, are childlike ones. I remember my Mother in particular, being right on it the moment I lost, or was near losing, my temper, I was out of the room, sent to my bedroom until I'd calmed down. My being bad tempered was not allowed public expression. Both of my parents appeared uncomfortable with physical punishment of mine or my sister's misdemeanors. They did it out of social expectation and undoubted necessity. My Mother, I can assure you, had a well practiced stinger of a slap to the back of the thigh. She always threatened me with my Father who, like most of us, was rightfully afeared of what might emerge from our own depths, should we direct our anger towards anything or anyone.
Both of my parents could express their mild frustrations or of being peeved, but outright incandescent with anger I don't recall ever having really seen. The first time I saw and heard my Mother swear 'Fuck' out loud, I dissolved into uncontrollable hysterics. And similarly seeing your parents angry can put them into a more relatable context, which also makes it easier for you to be angry. Unless, of course that parental anger becomes abusive violence towards you. Then they can become this raging beast unchained from all proper restraint - and be damaging to you then and in later life.
Yet, as John Lydon once sang 'Anger is an Energy' and energy can be expended, vented, released, contained, suppressed, managed, felt, channeled, directed, fueled or bottled up, to throw a few verbs up in the air, just to fall and moisten the parched emotional ground. For often once it has been released, anger does tend to dissolve into tears, we find ourselves weeping out of a sense of shame or regret, or for something we've lost, grieving for a life spent in a state of self betrayal, tears over not being true to ourselves sooner. There is a lot more living beneath our anger, than any upfront loudly sounding rage might at first reveal. And I can certainly recognise in myself, a tendency to run for cover into silent retreat, before the any sign of losing my temper can even emerge. It is, hence, rare that I've had to publicly acknowledge or apologise for my being angry,
Unspoken anger, if not found a safe outlet, is similar to corking a bottle of sparkling water, each and every minor ensuing josh and knock, causes it to froth and fizz inside. Until at some point one small trip up, just pops the cork off, and out it all spills in an effervescent fountain of rage. And I've certainly had experience of an anger that has suddenly exploded out of me. It's been so infrequent, that its taken others as well as me by surprise with the power of it, the immediacy of it, and the sheer uncontrolled ferocity of experiencing myself enraged. It didn't feel like this was really me at all. And yet, it was, and what did that say about me? What turbulent depths of resentment had I been sitting on for so long? Why had my frustration with something relatively minor boiled over to the point of a rage beyond all self control?
I've tried to identify themes in the looking for causes, and they're more suggestive than conclusive. Because I tend to touch on my anger, if I feel I'm not being understood, misunderstood, misjudged, patronised, belittled, dismissed or corrected, basically, when I'm not being heard out fully or properly. Those are the extroverted projected outwards versions of their more introverted self critical parents - I can't make myself understood, I'm always being misunderstood, misjudged, patronised, belittled, dismissed or corrected and I'm fucking annoyed at forever not being truly heard. When its power is not neuteured by being generalised, you discover the vein of disgruntlement once you fully own it, and present it in your specific voice.
The experience of being bullied and gay undoubtedly fed into any anger I still hold. How could it not? Having your very self maligned, motives and behaviour misjudged, in your impressionable youth, by people who just want to silence those 'effin poofs.' Plus all of your teenage years and early adulthood, of concealing, lying and misrepresenting who you are to your family and friends, and to the wider world, for fear of their anger, disapproval or rejection. And even today, I can't imagine encounters with anyone whose opinions I might not agree with, without expecting foul mouthed judgement. But also out of a fear that, despite any earnest intention to keep cool, calm and collected, that I'll unforgivably lose my temper during a conversation. So, yes, I like most folk, do have a residue of inexpressible anger festering away somewhere in my psyche. Its there, patiently waiting for some incident to light the blue touch paper. But at sixty eight, I've become adept at dodging situations where 'le macho brute' might be manifesting.
Here in North Norfolk, it can all seem very placid and unflappably rural. We live a happily self contained life within its safe parameters, and its picket fences built in. However, Hubby and I do see very clearly in some peoples faces and body language, in the everyday streets of Sheringham, that they find our homosexual presence angers them. That our mere existence is offensive to some, whose tolerance barely goes skin deep. We laugh it off, but its also a reminder too. Not to take our present easy life for granted. There are a lot of hate filled people out there, some of whom believe themselves to be Christians!
The other day I was reading some comments on a post I'd made on the Community Forum for The Commit To Sit practice period, with the New York Zen Center, I'm taking part in. And one persons comments just started triggering anger in me. And I could see that it was for all the usual reasons I've listed before. In fact I stopped posting on the Forum for a while, because this same person appeared to pounce on my every post, to leave a largely unhelpful and unasked for critical feedback, in a bizzarely disconnected manner of expression. It was so odd I thought they might conceivably be an AI bot or at least someone for whom English is a second language. I considered responding with feedback of my own, but then thought twice about that being remotely advisable given the nature of online forums. I could also be in danger of misdiagnosing the intentions of someone I do not know, just like they were doing. But the anger, again that interested me.
And I guess that is one way to respond to one's anger, in the same way we would to anything else that arises into our mind or experience. To take a kindly interest. To observe it, as much as you are able, from the outside in. Be better informed about the territory, the feel of it, without becoming completely engaged with the complex ring of justifications one might defend angers existence with. To recognise the qualitative difference between feeling angry and being angry. Being out and out angry is rarely instructive, whereas feeling one's anger could be. Sometimes there may be good reason for you to feel angry, and its useful to know and be in touch with that. Whether any anger needs to be expressed has to be left to personal judgement. Can you state that you are angry, without letting anyone feel the full force of it? Anger certainly changes things, but its unpredictable whether that will be for the best
In Buddhism, awareness itself is considered a revolutionary experience, because once you truly see something for what it is, you cannot ever become unaware of it again. Without becoming outwardly expressive of one's anger, you can come to understand the emotional landscape it regularly inhabits. Exhume it from being buried under the rubble of mistaken suppression. And remember, whether we express or suppress, anger is very human, however regrettable that its come to this, so at some point there will be tears.
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