The Sweetness of Anger

Alone in the house, with no one else to distract me,  the irritation inside came to the forefront. Body turned hot, and full of fiery energy. And surprised mind was trying its best to tap into resources of acquired wisdom. 

Anger requires action, in the form of either changes in one's outer life, or inside. Most often, both. In my case, I know full well where to look, and what needs to get done. It's just that I have become complacent and I waver in my resolve. I also forget the real source, deep within myself. 

Yesterday, at a conference for caregivers of persons with dementia, I met a woman, also dealing with anger. Courageous, humbled, raw, stripped of all pretenses . . . she was ready to do her work. She told me she felt bad for feeling this way. Of course, the words came easy, that assuaged her guilt some. It was so clear from the outside, that her frustration was there for a reason. She could no longer go on as she had. She needed help, and help there was, right there at the conference.

Sitting, I quickly came to the split moment when mind had to decide how to be with the anger. A friend or not? I have had my share of  feelings about anger, from fear, to hate, to anger about the anger itself, to annoyance, to boredom, to impatience.

That's when I came to see anger as a good friend. Not just in my mind, but in my heart also. Anger to protect, and warn, and nag. Anger telling that not all is well. Anger not tolerating foolishness, in myself and others. Anger, formidable. A force to be reckoned with, and listened to with discriminating wisdom and a gentle heart.

Anger, so sweet.

What is your anger telling you? Are you listening?