Anger Doesn’t Rhyme With Danger
A reflection on my relationship with patience, frustration, and anger
It’s no secret that I’ve struggled with anger most of my life. While I’ve always been a genuinely kind, well-intentioned guy, a dark flame always existed behind my eye. Over the last several years, I’ve been getting to the source of it and learning skills to manage this particular symptom.
When we were in Las Vegas last weekend, I noticed a sharp contrast to how I handled frustration with others compared to how I often let things boil over and explode in the past. Las Vegas is a big, loud, crowded, and intoxicated place, and I knew my patience would be tested, my frustration would fume. I was so thrilled with how my natural reactions were much softer than other trips before, and it got me reflecting on the evolution of my relationship to anger.
My problems with anger started way back when I was a kid, 8 years old, after I had premonitions about two beloved relatives’ deaths. Essentially, I had visions/dreams of my favorite uncle and my closest grandparent, in back-to-back years, dying, fates that came true in the following couple days. The confusion, heartbreak, and fear of those events sent me down an explosive spiral that continued, honestly, until last year.
You see, I was never given the appropriate comfort about these events or necessary skills to deal with these new feelings. I had some less-than-mediocre therapy, including a school psychologist that told me it was the devil working inside me, and well-intentioned but ineffective advice from family about “God’s plan” and “not acting like a baby.” As I aged, these feelings and their subsequent outbursts didn’t alleviate; the shame of these symptoms drove me to hide my anger struggles in adulthood, instead of dealing with them.
Of course, that didn’t work. In sharp contrast to my friendly persona, the rage would build up and explode in unpredictable, ill-fitting ways, often unrelated and disproportionate to the situation at hand. In order to burn off that steam, I turned towards punching walls, shouting abusively, and hitting myself and others. The shame pile continued to build.
Then in the fall of 2022, following a hospital stay, I moved to Indianapolis and began working with a therapist named Graham. Though we only worked together for six months, his help unpacking my ongoing distress provided the basis to begin the work I needed to do to get in right relationship to my anger. He said that I had spent so much energy on trying to hold the lid on a boiling kettle, when I really needed to turn the heat down.
So yes, over the twenty years of therapy and later mindfulness training, I learned many skills. I began to understand how the brain works, both for myself and for my relationship to others. I learned breathing exercises, concentration techniques, and conflict management approaches. And of course, the right medication didn’t hurt!
But those were just methods for keeping the lid on the pot. To turn down the boiling, it all started with my time at First City Recovery Center. There for a full month, I had the time, space, and support to unpack all the underlying causes of my small capacity for frustration. Thanks to building back my self-worth, processing my traumas in individual, group, and family therapy, and changing my perspective on how the world works, from a me-centered narrative to a Oneness, I was able to get out from under the heavy burden of shame and grief.
With the water simmering low, I was able to see the whole mechanism more clearly. It became obvious that my anger was really a deep sadness, as Richard Rohr put it, stemming, though misguidedly, from a deep care for the world, as David Whyte said. Frustration, I realized, was a sign that a boundary had been broken and must be restored; in my past worldview, I thought it was everyone else’s job to maintain those boundaries, when really it was up to me to control my environment, symptoms, and expectations, and thus my emotions.
With less in the way of managing these things, I was able to focus on how patience can manifest in everyday situations that once troubled me. It started with easy-but-impactful shifts in perspective. When driving, I remind myself that, as Sharon Salzberg said, I am also the traffic, no one is in MY way. Similar practice occurs with service people, staying cool in frustrating moments, as teammates, not opposition. The same has gone for my online activity, attempting to not get stuck in the common rude mode of social media commenting. This app flows for me from the sensing that we are really in a Oneness.
In general, I am trying to practice patience, acceptance, and love in all of my interactions. If someone is stuttering or slow in their speech, give them time to complete their thought. If someone is repeating stories or forgetting something, realize that’s completely okay, a gift of reminder maybe. If the moment calls for silence, to rest in that. It’s sad, but it took me nearly 35 years to realize that my discomfort does not overvalue someone’s dignity.
One thing my parents always said, but I just learned was “don’t sweat the small stuff.” I once walked around taking everything personally, but as Michael Singer said, nothing is personal, it’s just the universe naturally unfolding. With that in mind, I’ve shifted my focus on maintaining my boundaries instead of having my expectations met, wanting to be true rather than right.
Because of my trauma and because of my bipolar symptoms, I still feel that flame flickering. It takes daily work to maintain my poise. I’ve cut out violent media, which is a lot for a boy raised on Roadhouse and Stallone movies. I’m learning to be careful about how I treat my body, which is a lot for a boy raised in McDonald’s and couch-life. Instead I’m choosing thoughtful podcasts and soul-lifting comedies; instead I’m choosing long walks and my morning smoothies.
Until last year, I never paid mind to how I feel and how that affects my behavior. One of the biggest gifts I got from working the 12-Steps was the practice of HALTS, noticing regularly if I am Hungry-Angry-Lonely-Tired-Sick. For me, if frustration is present with any of the other four, it can easily burn into wild anger. That’s the awareness I must keep cultivating to keep the fire low and the lid on the pot.