Gretchen’s post about venting anger and how feelings and actions go hand-in-hand got me thinking.   Because I grew up in a family that was firmly-committed-to-not -expressing-the-icky-emotions  and anger was at the top of the verboten list. 

And my own relationship to anger is wacky because I’m a Taurus, and if you have any of us in your life you know that we calmly wander about the pasture chewing our cud.  But when we finally notice that someone has stabbed a spear in our hiney and is waving red stuff in our face, then watch out honey, you’ve got a 1000 pounds of cheesed-off bull snorting bad breath in your face.  It takes us a while to get there but once we do We Are There.

And I know it’s hard for people to handle.  They’re like – so you’re finally pissed off at this annoying thing I’ve been doing for two years??  And we’re like, yeah, we’ve finally had enough - *Stop now*.  My goal is to get better at noticing I’m annoyed so that maybe I can bring it up at the 1 year mark.  That’d be an achievement.

I went out with a guy for a while who came from a much more expressive Mediteranean family than my own totally WASP-y one.   And he taught me a lot about anger because in his family you didn’t hold back.  They had the hollering dish-throwing kind of exchanges. 

Not to say I was comfortable with that but he did teach the value of a good rant.  That’s not the same as telling someone in detail why they suck and why you wish to god you’d never met them and other things you’ll regret later because you’re mad.  I’m talking about a good rant about why you’re pissed.  And it can be to anyone really, or anything because the bathroom mirror or just wandering down the sidewalk mumbling can work too.   It’s about getting some clarity.

Because I’ve found that digging into my own anger can be really useful.  I’m someone who can put up with stuff *forever*.  Sometimes more than two years.  If it’s not killing me, heck, why not continue to put up with it?  So my anger is a way for me to finally see that, by golly there is a spear in my butt and it’s time to change something in my life that is seriously not working.  A good rant clarifies for me where I stand.

Anger is also the best way to deal with our hot buttons because it’s easy to forget you have any when life is good.  Hot buttons?  Me?  Noooo.  And then bang, someone wacks one of yours and as you’re ranting you say – gee this sounds familiar!  And you realize this is that big gaping pothole you fall in pretty regularly because of x or y belief or pattern and now you get to look at it fresh in hopes that one day you’ll learn to walk around it and stop spraining your ankle.  And your relationships.

 The Buddhist folks talk about feeling the feeling and then letting it go.  But knowing I’m pissed off and feeling my blood pressure rise just isn’t enough.  I also need the mini-steps of understanding and processing it too and *then* I can absolutely let it go.

Here’s an example.  I go to the grocery store before work recently on a Friday.  I’m hungry, I haven’t had coffee, I’m tired, but dang it, I’m going to get this task done so I don’t have to think about it for the weekend.  I can cook and bake non-stop instead.  There’s hardly anyone around, which is I why I love going at that time.  

I’m in the baking aisle looking for muffin cups.  I cannot find the damn things.  I’ve left my cart mid-aisle and am just wandering back and forth looking for their hiding place.  I’m convinced I’m not seeing them because I’m not seeing straight anyways.  

An old guy comes up to me and says, “is that your cart with your purse in it?”  I tell him “yes”.  And he goes on to regale me with a sermon about how I should not be leaving my purse in the cart because the world is an evil place and someone is just about to come around the corner and run off with it because you know, the minute desperate guys get out of jail the first thing they do is head at 8:00 a.m. to the grocery store to look for muffin cups and errant purses in the baking aisle.  Ok I’m embellishing.  That’s not exactly what he said, but that is my rant about what he said. See how fun it is?

And I was so Not In The Mood that all I wanted to do was tell him where to go in the nastiest of terms.  And I stopped myself because as lousy as I was feeling, I do not need that kind of karma on my head. 

It’d be one thing if he was killing kittens in the baking aisle but he really did believe he was “helping” me even though it made me believe that my purse to his head would be the appropriate response. 

So I said nothing.  I walked away and found the muffin cups in an aisle with the aluminum foil baking stuff (of course!).  And I was really angry.  It bugged me all morning.   Why can’t cranky old guys just leave me alone?  Do I have “helpless female dying for morning harassment” printed on my tshirt?  Why couldn’t I have found *something* to say to him in the moment that I could live with afterwards? 

Then later that morning it came to me,  how I *really* wish I had responded.  After his sermon wound down, I would have sidled up to him and gotten into his personal space and said, “sooooo you don’t think that if some asshole stole my purse that I wouldn’t sprint after him?  Throw him to the ground?  Crush him to the floor with my fat baby belly??  Cause I most *certainly* would.” 

And if he didn’t look terrified I would have offered to practice on him, since he was the only one in the aisle eyeing my purse.  Or maybe I’d laugh conspiratorially so he wouldn’t think I’m the desperate one who just got released from prison.

When I came up with this scenario I had a good chuckle to myself, and *then* I was able to let the whole thing go and get on with my day. 

Once I found alternatives other than being silent or venting in total anger at the guy, I could make a commitment to stand up for myself in a way I could feel good about.  Hopefully I’ll get another opportunity.  But then again, now I don’t need to leave my cart, I know where the muffin cups are..