Pearls of Wisdom and Foolish Mutterings

Step Away from the Dark Side

The rose-colored glasses aren't quite back in place yet, but I've at least retired my bitch-mobile for the foreseeable future. Thank you to all my dear friends who offered such wonderful support - you all know who you are and I've responded to each of you individually. There is a great pool of wisdom in my circle of friends here and I value that more than you could ever know.

True to my prediction yesterday, the bright glare of a new day has persuaded me to think better of words written in hurt and anger yesterday and I have changed that blog's viewing restriction to private. My original intention was to delete it, but I think it may be a good idea for me to hold on to it. As I mentioned to one of my dear friends in response to her comment, I rarely allow myself that kind of naked introspection, preferring instead to walk around in blatant disregard of certain disturbing aspects of my life. Sometimes I need to look at it, if only to anchor myself in reality.

I'm still finding myself mired in sadness this morning, but at least the anger has abated and that's a good thing. For years, I believed, erroneously, that anger was preferable to other emotions, because there is an energy to it that feels like power. Even now, knowing that's not the case; knowing that anger doesn't give you power, instead, it robs you of power; I still fall prey to it at times. There's that adrenaline rush associated with a surge of anger and the self-righteous feeling of imperviousness; but it's all a lie. We don't control anger, it controls us. It doesn't make us strong; on the contrary, it weakens us. And in its purest form, given free reign, anger blinds us to the pain we inflict on others. It makes us unable to hear the greater truths - those of compassion, forgiveness, and empathy.

Anger takes on a life of its own, marching ahead of us in a path of destruction that shows no mercy, gives no quarter, allows no room for error. Anger grasps at the ignoble parts of our character, pushing them to the forefront and igniting the fire of self-righteous superiority.

Oh, I am intimately acquainted with anger; and with the quaking fear and sense of resignation of the victims upon whom it is inflicted. I know the quiet desperation of trying to live invisibly. I've seen the havoc an anger-driven life can wreak on a family. I've even tried to wear the cloak of anger, thinking it could protect me from vulnerability. But it never fit comfortably, hanging instead like a shroud of death.

All of this I know, and yet there are times when I allow anger to hold me in its vise-like grip, even going so far as to curl up in its lap and let it absorb me. But never for long, by the grace of God, never for long. What always pulls me out of the grip of anger is the love and compassion of family and dear friends. I am saved by the innocence of my grandchildren, the joy of seeing my four amazing children make their way through life, the knowledge that they do so free of the hidden minefield of a childhood survived instead of lived, and the comfort of treasured friends who love me even when I decide to wear the cloak of anger.

I have so much for which to be thankful. I forget that sometimes. A verse from the Bible comes to mind. "Whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, pure and lovely, whatsoever things are of good report, if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things." Phillipians 4:8 KJV (paraphrase mine)

And to paraphrase even more, I think it means, "Quit dwelling on the bad stuff and step away from the cloak of anger!" Got it (this time, anyway.)