But, I don't GET angry!

At least, I don't get angry very often. . . I much prefer the joy of agreeability and harmony. In general I am pretty laid back. Generally. Which is why it is always a surprise when I find myself in a state of fury! How did this happen? It is like a little monster that sneaks up behind me and then pounces unexpectedly. It bites its razor sharp teeth into the neck of my joy and sucks out every last drop of my remaining life force.

Well, that is an approximation. But, you get the idea. For those of us who don't like to get mad. Anger is a scary and dangerous beast!

The truth is I get angry. Things make me mad. But, I learned that you don't act it out. Quite rightly! But, just because we don't act on it doesn't mean it is not there. An interesting book called the Language of Feelings by Cal Banyan notes that there is always a message inside anger. Anger is like a little voice inside declaring there has been an injustice of some kind, real or perceived. And, here is the thing, we must be able to recognize injustices in order to best rectify them or make reparations. What we don't need is to then turn into a victim of the moment and lash out like a cornered animal. Feeling angry is part of being a healthy and discerning human being. 

But, the second point of interest is the notion of anger signaling an injustice whether real or perceived. Our nervous system sadly doesn't know the difference (hence waking from a nightmare in a sweat--It was so real!). Our bodies respond to negative emotions the way they are designed to respond when we feel threatened: fight, flight or freeze. It's not an ideal situation, but it is the nature of our human biology. 

The challenge of being angry at a perceived rather than real injustice is that we can't always address and resolve it like we might an external issue that is fixable. The perception is by nature internal.  So, we are challenged to face the reality of ourselves and the often completely "unfair" nature of human existence. "Unfair" because we all suffer from something as humans which thus makes the universal nature of problems more or less "fair." But, of course, the severity and nature of our affliction or situation inevitably feels "unfair" because of its unique manifestation. Our ego shouts out "I shouldn't have to deal with this!"

The question is, what are we to do when we feel life isn't fair, but in fact, it is just part of the reality that "Shit (sometimes) Happens?" In order to walk a middle path between lashing out and stuffing our anger response in a closet-- I think we have to start with an honest account of what makes us angry -- even when we "know" it isn't personal, or unique to us, or even alterable for that matter. Detailing the issue(s) at hand can be extraordinarily helpful.

Here is my current list of things that make me mad (but which are not necessarily real injustices):

I am angry that I am tired.
I am angry that students don't know how to take notes or study or practice effectively.
I am angry that my two year old is quitting his afternoon nap.
I am angry that I suffer from unpredictable and sometimes uncontrollable depression.
I am angry that there will be dirty dishes everyday.
I am angry that the value of the arts and humanities in education is downplayed because their study doesn't make money.
I am angry that my computer runs slow.
I am angry that I can't do everything I want to do because there simply isn't enough time.
I am angry that my jaw and eyes are tired and painful because I hold my unspoken stress there.
I am angry because life doesn't always provide clear answers to my questions.

Now, some of these things are more ridiculous than others. On the other hand, some might actually have validity and could be at least indirectly addressed. But, the point is, that for someone who doesn't like to feel angry, I still suffer occasional and situational anger.  This is ok. This has to be ok. Otherwise, I would sink into nihilism and be a potential hazard to myself and everyone around me.

This is where grace enters. In the form of hope, and faith, and love. We will experience rage, anger, and frustration at ourselves and the world. This anger can be so embarrassing for some of us that we would rather stifle it than risk revealing it. We fear we might lose hold of the tether and lose it all together. We stifle it and it shows up in other ways, in our bodies mostly, chronic hip pain, chronic headaches, addictions, depression and more. This is the work of David Schechter and his predecessor John Sarno who identify that roughly 90% of all chronic pain is psycho-somatic. Now, psycho-somatic does not mean that the pain is not real. Psycho-somatic pain is real pain, but it is triggered through our nervous system feedback rather than a physical injury.

Anger processing is one of the best inroads for "curing" chronic pain according to their work. And, I am apt to agree with them. Seeing our anger for what it is a much needed first step in healing ourselves and making ourselves whole.

What then is the antidote to our anger? For many of us it has to start with self-love and self-acceptance. We have to trust that we are not our anger and that we have worth even when we feel rage. When you are down in the dumps, it is hard to have faith in the tenant of inner goodness.  Our Buddha nature seems far away in these dark times. But we can commune with others we can trust when we can't trust ourselves. We go to them for a meaningful reminder of hope and love. And when we can't find any person, we go to our animal friends or the tree in your garden or the fountain at the park. We commune with a life energy, until we can remember for ourselves that we have inherent worth and dignity. That we are worth a little forgiveness and a lot of love. That we can play a meaningful role in the world for ourselves and for others.

Hope is a precious thing. It is the pilot light that keeps us going in our darkest hour. 

May you find peace today.

May you feel loved and valued.

May you have hope and may you shine your light for the world.

__/\__

Musing on being a dancing mama poetess

It’s been an exceptionally long time since I have posted.  I blame it on my being pregnant. That's right, in this time I have had a baby! And that. . .

Changes. . .

Everything.

While pregnant, it was tough to contemplate much else, and I was too superstitious to blog about my being pregnant for fear it might not work out.  Plus, it took all my energy to be pregnant and survive teaching a full load.  But, I made it through and even fulfilled my goal of performing while pregnant. Once at 4 ½ months and again at 6 months.  It was a hoot.

So, what did I learn during this past year, now that I have a 5 week old who is just learning to nap long enough for me to write this post?  I have learned that dance making (art making) can happen under all conditions and the artist never goes to sleep even when the body is transforming on a daily basis.  I danced through the pregnancy which joy and allowed myself to dance differently while experience the changes happening to my physically and emotionally.

In many ways being a pregnant dance maker was a piece of cake.  Now that the bun is out of the oven, I have many more challenges as my schedule revolves around caring for this new life I have created.  So when and how do I makes dances now?  Patiently, sporadically, theoretically while dosing off into a nap. I recently wrote a friend about dance making:

Dance making is a fascinating way of life. And, it is interesting who perseveres and how they persevere in the dance making process.  It seems that those of us who embed our lives and our learning in our art making seem to have a more sustainable time of it. . . Our creative energies have so many outlets and they all feed each other in the end as they all feed us. When we work honestly it flows out of us like a source energy.  That energy and our lives that swirl around it are the research. . . The journey continues in all conditions and we experience the ebb and flow as we ride the wave.   Mine includes the creative practice of raising a newborn.

I was pleased to get back into the studio last week, a trial run for my body and for babysitting! It went as well as I could expect, and tomorrow I head back into the studio again. I’m not sure where the next stage will take me as I am living moment to moment, hour to hour, nap to nap.  But, I do so with hope and joy.  When things get tough, I surrender myself to the challenge, weep as needed and move on.  We can’t plan for perfection, and I believe it is a mistake to expect it.  Dancing and art making will happen.  It is meant to happen as it happens.  And, therefore, I will stay true to my belief and practice of making dance under all conditions.