dear gentle friends,
There are a lot of reasons in this world to be angry right now. We’re living in an era where almost everyone seems to relish righteous rage. It’s as though being apoplectic is a sign of virtue.
And we all see where this celebration of anger leads.
But even if a lot of us our angry, we’re angry about different things. What makes me mad, may not bother you at all. And vice versa. This truth gives me pause. If my righteous anger demands the very thing that your righteous anger refuses, then even without knowing the exact thing we’re talking about, we can see that anger is not dispositive of what is good, just, or fair.
We all come to this life with unique experiences that shape our instinctive responses. Everyone of us. That’s why our instinctive responses are different. Nothing is inherently wrong with our instincts, but my own knee-jerk reactions aren’t always in line with the person I want to be. I suspect I’m not alone in this.
And that’s what is bringing me to a topic that makes me a little bit — okay, let me rephrase that — a lot uncomfortable. Without getting bogged down in my own personal story, I’ll just say that I grew up in a religious community where “good girls” didn’t get angry and then followed a career path where rapid-fire debate was rewarded. Suffice it to say, processing anger in a skillful way doesn’t come naturally to me.
So, in this era of anger, I’m trying to find a gentle way forward…
I’ve been re-reading Thích Nhất Hạnh’s Anger: Wisdom for Cooling Flames. He starts the first chapter with the simple and straightforward sentence, “We all need to know how to handle and take care of our anger.”
Here’s my current anger practice:
(1) Accept that anger is part of human life.
Having lived in a community where the ideal female simply did not express anger —or, presumably, feel anger — I can say without a doubt that suppression is not a skillful way to care for any emotion, let alone anger. The solution is not to eradicate anger, but to tend to it. There will a be reasons to be angry, and we will experience anger. Once you have accepted this reality, you can learn to care for your anger skillfully.
(2) Separate anger from action and speech.
There are wise people, and there are angry people, but there are no wise and angry people. As true as this is, most of us aren’t Buddhist monks able to let go of anger as it arises. Most of us are humans who get mad, mutter curses under our breath, spin stories about how we’re right and they’re wrong. We’re tempted to write angry emails, post something online, make someone pay.
And, yet, none of us looks back on times when we spoke or acted in a fit of rage and say, “Ah, yes, I was embodying my best self.” Deep down, we all kind of sense that letting anger take control is unskillful.
The practice, then, is to let anger subside before saying or doing anything. The sound and sensation of a bell or sounding bowl is what I’m using as a model for letting anger dissipate. As soon as you become aware of anger, imagine a deep bell sounding. Then, pause, as the sound quiets into silence. If you still feel the heat of anger after one pause, try another. Bring awareness to where in your body the heat of anger is. Bring gentleness to it. If the sensation is in your belly, gently place your hand there. If there’s tightness in your chest or throat, gently place your hand there and sense the dissolving again. This process will take as long as it takes. There is no rush as long as you commit to not speaking or acting in anger.
(3) Once anger has subsided, let wisdom dictate how to proceed.
A lot of proponents of anger seem to believe that without anger, a lot of bad things will happen. I think it’s rather the opposite: a lot of bad things happen because of anger. If there is a legitimate cause for our anger, that cause will be clear without anger. And when something needs to be done, you will be far more skillful and wise when you are acting from a place of calm. When you sense that you, and not anger, is in control again, take stock. Decide if you need to do something or nothing — and sometimes doing nothing is by far the wisest course — and then calmly, gently, start doing what needs to be done.
This is a live practice for me, and I’d love to hear your thoughts on caring for anger. Please share if you’re so inclined.
warmly,
alison
