Details make up our conversations, and emotions fuel our responses, but how many of us take the time to actually step outside of the words we speak to feel, or to explore ourselves through the currents of our anger, or the vastness of our happiness? How many of us have a relationship with ourselves, or love ourselves deeply enough to create space in this busy world to find out what it is we need and what drives us? A bit of anger came up for me recently and I (of course) reacted (badly). I was driven by a monster inside of me that wanted to claw its way through the likes of another, but when it did enough damage, it backed down and I was left sitting alone with myself. Where does this derive from, I have to ask myself.
Instead of judge the beast who ruled me that day, I sat beside her, figuratively placed an arm around her and allowed her to be part of my experience. I am not perfect, and although I know a lot about spirituality, I’m not always a “spiritual” person. I’m human, and I have human behaviors, human responses and human feelings. This is important for me to accept about myself, otherwise my inner judge will overrule me, and I will not have the space to explore the beast. It’s been a few weeks and the beast is sitting quietly, but she is still right beside me, simply waiting to be provoked. She’s pretty full of herself, and her claws are sharp. I wouldn’t mess with her if I was an outside party, but I’m the only one who has the power to control her, so instead of allowing her to lash out, I’m embracing her and gently reminding her that I’m aware of her presence. She’s been with me for a very long time and I’m going to finally take the time to face her.
It seems that everyone in my life right now is pointing me to my beast (the anger). Well, not everyone. I have two children and a few co-workers who haven’t provoked the beast at all. It’s like I’m surrounded by both ultimate acceptance and harsh judgments. I suppose this is an organic reflection of what’s going on within me. I’m dealing with accepting myself, and judging myself here. I could reprimand the beast and question her… “What are you still doing here? I thought I dealt with you? You don’t belong with me. You are screwing up my peace… etc,” or I can enter this darkness within myself and realize that it is yearning for exploration. The ones revealing this beast to me (the provokers) are my greatest advocates (on a soul level). On a physical level, they don’t even know how important their role is in my life, or perhaps they do… what do I know?
What I do know is that I don’t reject this part of me. Instead of block her out, pretend she isn’t here, distract myself, or lash out at the people reflecting her to me, I’m asking her questions. I’m discovering her place in my life. I’m allowing her presence to overcome me once in a while without reacting. I’m feeling the hurt that comes up as I allow her to overcome me. You see, she has more depth than I realize. She is full of fear and in order to protect herself, she masks herself with fangs and claws. Beyond this, however, she is merely a vapor of fear that I have never taken the time to face.
This is so deep… tell me about it. But what I’ve realized in my sobriety, is that having a relationship with myself is so incredibly dynamic and liberating. If I’m walking around the planet in a state of confusion, or without awareness of myself, then I am setting myself up to self-destruct in the midst of my anger, because this is what I’m accustomed to doing. We all play a role in each other’s spiritual development, but how many of us sit with ourselves and take the time to acknowledge what everything means on a soul level? How many of us give ourselves compassion when we are feeling afraid? Or do we harshly judge ourselves for being completely human? If you are judging, then you are stifling a beautiful and natural process called healing.
I’m holding hands with my beast because she is part of me, and I don’t want to reject her anymore. She obviously has a voice (a pretty loud and sarcastic one at that), and she desires my full attention. Instead of distract myself from her, I’m regarding her. It doesn’t matter to me how long she hangs out. She is a guest in my home right now, and we’re finally getting to know one another. She is actually pretty harmless when I give her the space to breathe instead of the ignorance of reaction. She makes me feel extremely uncomfortable at times; agitated and raw. She irritates me, and makes me feel weary, but if I don’t finally give her my full attention, she is going to have her way with me for the remainder of my life, like a neglected child who raises havoc when least expected.
I’m angry. There, I said it. But this is not who I am. I run deeper. The anger is merely a fragment, like a prism of light reflecting something that needs to be recognized in order to be set free. If it’s fear that I’m harboring, then it’s time I walk through it, and when I’ve finally overcome this fear, I will gladly thank the people in my life who have given me the organic mirror to face this longtime passenger on my journey.