on anger

There’s a scene in The Color Purple when Celie stands up to Mister.  The emotions in this scene sum up how I feel.  I am so very angry.  I am angrier than I have ever been in my entire life.

I feel like I’ve lived in a confessional for 20 years and only now have decided to stand up and walk outside and face the sun.

I am angry because

I’ve lived in such darkness for so long that it became normal and I forgot the sun existed.

I am angry because I spent so much time caring for others and neglecting myself that I now need to retrain myself, like a child, on how to be myself, be for myself.

I am angry because I birthed so much life into the world only to support those lives alone.

I am angry because I feel I cannot be the mother I was meant to be.

I am angry because I know I will still pull a rabbit out of my arse and make rainbow soup with glitter from the sky no matter how longingly I wish to fall along with the rain.

I am angry to have chosen to pour my love unending into a vessel incapable of acknowledging how hard I love and what a unique and amazing gift I am such that I should have been cherished.

I am angry that never have I ever had such luxury as to wallow in my pain and blame others and angrier to know I would not even do so if the chance were ever to arise.

I am angry at the asphyxiation suffered at silence while trying to breath in affection.

I am angry for my hunger and for allowing others to insult my soul by accepting their crumbs.

I am angry over the blankets of compassion that layers my bones because as much as it is a gift it feels like a curse and is at the heart of what drives my steps.

I am angry over losses that threaten my spirit such as to eclipse the joy that is meant to be mine.

I am angry at the alchemical angel sitting opposite the shoulder of my anger devil, demanding I somehow transmute this experience into love.

I am angered to exhaustion.  A tiredness so great that it shadows my heart, darkens my spirit and provides no place for me to rest.

                     What am I grateful for?  

  • Recognizing that anger is robed in victimization and that I can wear it or take it off.
  • The ability to direct this anger as fuel to deepen my inner work.
  • Being blessed with stores of iron.

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