The Upside to Anger
Anger gets a bad rap. We talk so much about avoiding it and balancing it, etc., that I think our time might be better spent by just throwing something already. Preferably something square and fluffy, but at least unbreakable. Get it out of our systems because it’s powerful. And it’s reality, whether we like it or not.
The kind of anger most of us feel uncomfortable with seems to be aggression, that darker partner of passivity. This kind of anger can be explosive and uncomfortable, usually loud, always disruptive. It doesn’t resolve things because that’s not the point. Its purpose is akin to lava spewing out of a volcano. It’s how we vent and give over to forces greater than ourselves.
Aggression starts with, of course, passivity, its silent sister. I grew up being passive-aggressive, so I think of myself as an expert in this. I would stay silent and let things happen, either because I didn’t know what to say or because I thought I’d act “above” the obnoxious and intrusive lower beings. Yeah, right. As soon as the encounter ended, aggression was right there, waiting for me. Again.
So, because these two are partners, if you feel uncomfortable with aggression (and who doesn’t, even when it’s ours?), look to where you or the other person is being passive. Passivity always tracks back to this question — How are we not getting what we want? Do we want to speak up? Do we want to influence someone somehow — by flirting, persuading, begging, arguing, making them understand us, etc. — and they’re ignoring us? Do we want an opportunity to do something that’s just not happening? Or, how do we want to be included but aren’t? The frustration of not getting what we want brings about aggression (and sometimes its inwardly focused blue sister, depression).
Our aggressive anger is a gift, really, because it shows us where we’re losing power. It shows us where our fears are. Where our extremes are. Where we sell out what we want in life. Where we feel pain. Where our powerlessness lies. Anger isn’t an enemy; it’s an indicator. When we follow it and then deal with the real issue of our own power and our sabotaging beliefs surrounding it, anger can, in a way, become our friend. At least our ally. Where there’s anger, there’s fear. Where there’s fear, there are sabotaging beliefs. That’s where our work is, not on the anger itself.
Growing up, my anger was a burden because I didn’t understand it, but it did serve as a buffer against depression. Depression feels like the lowest form of energy, and anger helped me avoid it. Since I started dealing with my power issues over passivity, and my aggression has diminished, I find myself feeling depressed sometimes. During those indigo days, I’ll be honest, I miss my anger. But, I search for my ugly beliefs, the days pass, and I move on.
In dealing with those problems, I discovered another form of anger that rises when we work through our issues and assume our power. Our wills become resolute. Let’s say we’re tired of being treated a certain way, so instead of falling into our usual passive-aggressive mode, we get to where we can finally say “no.” By then our strength has actualized, and we can stand firm against the force of our former patterns. “No.”
This is good anger. It isn’t blustery or aggressive. I’ve heard someone describe it as sacred anger. I like that. It fits. I think most activists need this kind of anger, to incite their passion when otherwise they’d back away and let what upsets them slide. Passivity, again.
So, whether anger is an indicator or a force of change, I treat it as something to be seen and heard, not dismissed or avoided. It’s not a message of character deficiency. It’s the messenger of power imbalances that need to be resolved, outside and within.
If you want to read more about my ideas and experiences, read my book, a guided journal called The Hunger for Home. It’s available at Amazon.
