A CONVERSATION WITH ANGER
INSIDE
When George first entered through the double doors to wait for his hostess to arrive, his eyes opened with surprise as they adjusted to the dark. He tried to take in the mix of avant-garde and antique furniture arranged in a maze as his nose twitched with the smell of incense that reminded him of smoked salmon.
Someone had set chairs such that you would be facing no one else wherever you chose to sit. It would have made a good solarium for introverts in community, decorated in ‘kitschy yard sale’ with small ceramic figurines, plastic Tupperware candy dishes, assorted multicolored flower vases, artificial daisies, and plastic tulips. (Photo by Onur-Bahcivancilar on Unsplash)
“What a mess! Why does it feel so familiar?”
Covering the old wide pine floors were scatter rugs of every ilk, a musty bear pelt, a braided foot rug next to a wicker rocker, and three bathroom mats of varying colors along the exterior wall. Many guests had trod these mats threadbare. Weirdly, George felt as if he were standing amid the worn trappings of a life crammed with meaninglessness.
OUTSIDE
The windows on the opposite wall looked out on…well…how does one describe ’emptiness’? He walked close enough to peer past the window glare of a bright bare lightbulb hanging from the ceiling to see what he could see. Nothing. No scenery, no buildings, no movement. Sheer emptiness! He couldn’t even call it fog—just space. His heart began to tremble behind his rib cage.
When George turned to leave, there was no exit. The double doors he had come through had no handle on the inside, and there was no way to open the heavy oak panels that separated him from sanity. He was trapped! Alone in a room with feelings, feelings he previously had been able to avoid by walking away.(Photo by Hannah-Busing on Unsplash)
The unseen but keenly felt energy in this bizarre room vibrated like a child on the verge of having a temper tantrum. Although George had known occasional frustration in the past and perhaps lost his sense of humor a time or two, he would never have described himself as angry.
MOMENTUM
But there was no mistaking this energy pulsing with the rhythm of swelling rage like a set of kettle drums in a Beethoven symphony. But if the anger was not his, then whose temper was it? And why? “Is what I’m feeling ‘out there’ in the room, or is it fury inside my bones?” (Photo by Canva)
Thoughts whirred out of control, and his body began to shiver when suddenly there was a crash. The light bulb swinging from a single cord hanging from the tin ceiling fell to the floor, barely missing the back of his head. (Photo by Omer-Sonido on Unsplash)
“What’s that?!” George spun around too late to see. “The damn thing couldn’t have killed me!” he cried out to no one in particular, for there was no one in the room except him. Slowly, the vibrations picked up momentum. The curtains wagged their fringes at George like a hundred raging fingers shaking in judgment.
“What the….” George ducked behind an old Victorian sofa that smelled of cat urine. Whatever is in this room with me is invisible, violent, and wants to destroy me. I can’t escape.”
“What is it you want of me?” George asked of the energy which was blowing like a threatening nor ‘easter about to hit land. Immediately, it receded in power, and he heard what sounded like a low moan. Then in a deep voice with familiar overtones, Anger spoke slowly and with clarity.
THE CONVERSATION
“Dammit, call me by name. You and your ancestors have stuffed me away for generations. Let me go free. I am NOT dangerous. I am NOT evil, even if I live in the shadows. When I get excited, it’s because I want to protect people from something only I know.”
“I would call you by name if I knew what that was. I do not feel protected. I feel trapped.”
“My name is Anger. I want to be heard. I need some space to move. I want you to hear me, to listen to my story. When you people get frightened, you don’t see any possibilities.” (Graphic from Canva)
“What do YOU fear, Anger?”
“Wow! I am not asked that very often. Let me take a moment and ponder that question. I worry that your fear of me keeps me from using my energy to help people. I fear I am misunderstood. I fear that the longer I am stuffed down and not allowed to speak, the more I will be misquoted and maligned.”
“But do you have to hurt people? And take away their freedom? And create chaos everywhere you go? I have seen you do that!”
“Chaos happens when no one is listening, and I have to create commotion to be heard. Don’t be afraid of me. Don’t push me down when I want to work WITH you to stop pain everywhere. I need to be free to speak. I will act with compassion. With my energy and your vision we could work together for peace in a world full of stuffed feelings.”
A NEW BEGINNING
Pushing the hair out of his eyes, George nodded in understanding. “It is time. I want to know everything you know. I want to stand against injustice. I want to bring order in chaos. But I can’t do it without energy and courage and strength. I haven’t known where to find it.”
“You have found me, George. You can use me. I will be your strength.”
“And you won’t hurt me?”
“You are safe with me. You have listened. You have heard me. Can you trust me?”
“I am working on it.”
With these words, the storm that had been lifting curtains and snapping light cords blew against the heavy oak doors, which now moved as easily as dried leaves in a light breeze. George looked around. Despite the broken lightbulb, light entered the room from a window that faced a full moon. A light through which he could see promise and possibility. (Photo from Canva)
Bending down, George picked up his Irish knit cap with one hand and brushed his unruly red hair back with the other to see his way through the silent room. He stepped lightly into the sweet-smelling, moon-lit night air.
George had heard Anger speak and was no longer afraid. He knew what he would do next, as he set his feet confidently on the path ahead—the one leading away from his trapped feelings and towards the gate of Wisdom.
If you are not already on the mailing list to receive a note and
link to new posts weekly, why not do it now?
