Anger is not a worthwhile emotion

I grew up around some angry people. This is not unusual when there are alcoholics in the family. They yell. They throw stuff. They wake up the next morning and pretend like everything's fine. It's never really productive because it doesn't get to the root of the issue. But it happens on the regs. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

Because of this, I decided at an early age that anger wasn't for me. I would choose reason. Always. I definitely prefer a rational conversation where people actually have their voices heard. But when you never release anger, it builds up. Last year, while I was in the midst of working through a bunch of sadness, I started to realize that there might be some anger mixed in there. 

I started paying attention to my body. I noticed a physical vibration in my lower left rib cage that I identified as my pent-up anger. And one night in January, I decided to hang out with it. 

I lay in bed, eyes closed, breathing deeply with a cat perched on my shoulder. After a little while the hum intensified and suddenly I felt a sharp pain shoot up past my heart to my chest. I literally felt a pop. I looked down and there was physical evidence of whatever had just happened inside my body: a large red welt. I think that was the moment I made friends with all that pent-up anger. And the moment I truly believed in energy work. 

I've spent a lot of time with anger, particularly post-inauguration. It was nice to have a place to focus it. The anger I have towards alcoholic family members and deadbeat dads is balanced with love. They are family. They do the best they can. I can't fault them for that. I can fault willing injustice perpetrated by those who use their privilege to hurt others. 

And that is how I became an activist. My anger could no longer be contained and I'd found an appropriate enemy. I'm mostly productive in getting it out -- because now I understand that that's possible. I go to organizing meetings. I march. I donate. I read. I have discussions with real-live people about difficult social issues. I send post cards and emails to elected officials (I know calling is better but I hate it!). And, just once, I might have angrily tweeted at the orange monster because I just couldn't help myself (He's such an ASSHOLE). 

The unintended consequence of making friends with anger is that I spent what is normally the SAD season on an adrenaline rush. I wasn't necessarily happier than previous winters, but I was activated.I also made some new HUMAN friends who have been activated. Which means that in addition to the anger, we share laughter and inside jokes and compassion and solidarity. 

Those things give me hope that the world isn't going to end just because there's an orange monster in the White House. He's essentially an angry alcoholic who can't spell with a twitter account (Sad!). And even though I'm cool with anger now, it is still true that that kind of anger is not productive.