Are we 'filled with anger' or 'angry'?

After being witness to a sudden bout of anger from his father, and giving each other the space to breathe and simply be, yesterday I got talking to Raghav again.
I asked him how he felt about it. This is what he had to say...

R: "Appa is a man filled with anger. He should be a member of the Red Lanterns!" :)

Me: "What are the Red Lanterns?"

R: "They are part of the Lego Batman app. They are creatures in the D.C. Universe which stand for the emotion 'rage' ".

Me: "So do you feel that what appa felt was rage?"

R: "No. I think his was more like anger....rage is something more intense I think."

Me: "So how come you said that he 'was a man filled with anger' and not 'an angry man'?"

R: "I don't know. It just came out that way."

And I thought to myself - maybe he will know what he already knows... some day, or maybe not.....who knows?

But it isn't often (at least for me) that one gets to hear someone describe 'a person filled with an emotion' in this way. We often make emotions personal. We get attached to them. I do that pretty often. And then we don't see the person behind it all.....we don't see Love. Perhaps he did.

Anger, Forgiveness and Compassion

A few days ago, Raghav asked me what compassion meant, and I told him how I didn't know and was still figuring it out for myself. That word has been on my mind ever since, flitting in and out like a butterfly, as I watched it come and go. And I was reminded of a beautiful para that I read a few days ago, on the website of a learning space, that stayed with me just like this little 'butterfly-word' - 'compassion'. :)

"A child sees a butterfly sitting on a leaf for the first time in her life. Her own thinking powers are being exercised at a pace comfortable to her. She is absorbing the shape, the colours, the patterns on the wings and so many more things that we cannot even imagine any more, as conditioned adults. The child is thoroughly fascinated by the butterfly. The next time she sees another butterfly she notices the same things and, perhaps, a few more new things. She might notice that this creature is so much like the one she saw some days ago. She might notice that this, too, has the same pattern on its two wings, yet it is a different pattern to the one on her last butterfly, and so on… Over time she sees more of these creatures. She continues to make her own observations, comparisons, and she begins to draw certain conclusions.

This is a deeply satisfying experience for every learner. We, as adults, need to be careful that we do not deny children these very valuable experiences and, thereby, limit their perspectives as our own have been limited by teachers who taught us too many facts too soon in our lives."

And I was quietly happy that I did not interfere with his own learning process by feeding him ideas of what I thought 'compassion' was, which would have anyways been only second-hand knowledge. I also for the first time realised perhaps that there was probably something happening inside him, which he could also not perhaps express in words, and I saw how I was happy to stay with that experience of not knowing, and enjoy the deepening mystery of my own and his inner world.

Sometime ago, we had one of Raghav's friends over for the day, for a play date. Raghav has a few deep friendships and this was one of them. It has been beautiful for me to watch the unfolding of these relationships, and the understanding that has deepened in both over time. So yes, these two were having great fun playing with each other after a long time, until of course they were having a squabble.

I was busy doing something, when I heard a few screams from the bedroom, where they were playing 'hot' and 'cold'. It is a game where each one takes turns to hide an object, and gives the other the word clues - 'hot' and 'cold' to figure out whether one is near the hidden object or far away from it. I went in to see that Raghav was flat on his stomach on the bed, and his friend was pulling him holding on to his legs, and dragging him across the bed. I thought Raghav was screaming helplessly and asked his friend to stop what he was doing. Raghav then told me that he didn't like what his friend was doing to him, but felt powerless and could not do anything. I asked his friend why he was pulling Raghav like that. He immediately pouted his lips, his eyes welling up, took Raghav by his hands, held them tight and punched him on his hands with his fist. I stopped him by grabbing hold of his hand, and told him sternly that he could not do that. I also told him :"You seem to be very angry and it seems like you really want to show your anger. But you cannot hurt another to show your anger. Please use your words to tell him how angry you are."

He stopped what he was doing and told me how he was feeling."Raghav hid it in a very difficult place. It was too difficult. I could not find it all. That is why I am angry," he said. My heart went out to him. I was torn between my son and his friend. I could see how the anger was making my son feel powerless, and I could see how his friend was so angry, and how I could not find a safe container for that anger, simply because I was not okay with it deep inside and wanted it to go away or change. I waited until Raghav was ready to express to his friend how he was feeling because of this behaviour. And then, we all decided to step aside from each other for a while and cool off a bit.

Later, I was telling both of them how I felt that they seemed to have a lot of energy that was perhaps coming out as anger, and asked if they would like to go down and use up that energy by playing in the park. Raghav did not want to go. "Well, both you seem to be getting irritated and angry very quickly now, and I am worried if I will be able to handle it again. It has been too much for me today to deal with this anger that has been coming up again and again," I shared with the two boys. Immediately, his friend said that if it was a problem for me, then he would do push-ups now and expend his energy. I was amused and touched by his care and concern. "It is my problem, not yours. I am finding it difficult to handle the anger. You don't have to do anything. I have to figure it out for myself," I told him. I really wanted to make space inside to hold this anger, but also felt helpless that I couldn't. They of course got back to playing with each other again quite soon, as if nothing had happened. And I was sure I did not want to give my son a lecture on bullying and violence or compassion and forgiveness. I wanted him to form his own ideas about them. Perhaps then, he would not hold on too tightly to them or use them as a filter through which he could see the world. Perhaps then he would know how to listen to and watch and learn from the 'butterflies'.

The following day, I asked Raghav if he had felt like hitting his friend back when he had punched him. I guess I was wondering if there were other possibilities....other ways of seeing and dealing with what had happened. And this is what my son said: "No....I didn't feel like hitting him. I don't think I will ever hit him, even if I am angry and even if he does it again. I just don't feel like doing that. I don't know why."

And there were those words, flitting around like little butterflies inside my head again....'anger', 'forgiveness', 'compassion'...maybe some day I will be able to notice the intricate patterns and the ethereal beauty of these 'butterflies', when I am still and they come and sit with me on my drooping shoulder and whisper their secrets in my ears.....

I Have to Show My Anger

Two days ago, Raghav and A were playing together, after their first experience of a sleepover. Raghav had built one of the characters from the movie 'Planes' with Lego and A had taken off a few pieces from it for something, unknowingly. Raghav was very upset about that. It was a special plane and he did not want it broken.

He somehow could not say what he felt to A and so wanted me to tell A that, which I did.
"But I didn't know," said A. 
And I went back and shared that with Raghav. But it didn't help.

He said that he was still angry and that if A had broken his special plane, he was going to break the ship that A had built. I told him how I could understand that he was filled with anger about what had happened, but was wondering what he would achieve by breaking that ship. He agreed that he would not achieve anything, but that he wanted to do it. Just then, I had to leave him and the conversation midway, as I had to attend to someone who had just come home.

While I was away, I did not know what happened. When I got back, Raghav was sitting in the bedroom, and was sitting on the bed covering himself with his sheet, not wanting to see or talk to anybody. Meanwhile, A decided he would look for those pieces for him, found them and gave them to him. But Raghav was not in a space to even acknowledge that or even receive that. They parted ways for the day, without saying their byes happily to each other. And I too crashed early that night, too tired to listen to or talk to him about anything.

The next morning, I started up a conversation with Raghav about what had happened. He shared with me how he had in fact broken a part of the ship, and that he had not told A before, that the plane was special to him and that he should not touch it or break it. I pointed to him as to how A would not have known because he was not informed of all this. He agreed and came up with the idea of telling him what he could touch or not, from the next time.

"But did you break his ship like you wanted to?", I asked.

"Yes. I did," he said. And I fell apart a little. I did not expect that from him. I had thought that my conversation with him would have had some effect. I felt responsible for his 'meanness'. "Did you feel any better after you did that?", I asked. He said that he didn't. And like a 'good mother', I told him how I felt about what he did and how I did not like him taking 'revenge' like that. I shared with him how I too used to get so angry earlier with him. And how it always made me feel terrible inside later.

"Why did you get angry with me? Tell me more about it," he asked me. And so I told him how helpless I felt when none of the ways I had thought of had worked with him. How my anger simply reflected my fear of losing control. How I was scared of the future - how he would turn out. How I was scared that if I didn't control him then, I would never be able to control him.

"And how did you deal with your fears?", he said hugging me and kissing me.
"All that I know that I did was to face them...see them in the eye.....and know and understand which fear was ruling my mind.....after running away from them for years", I said. "Most often when we get angry, I think we are ruled by our fears," I added. "Maybe you could think about what you were scared about when you got angry," I said.
"I think I was scared because I could not remember how to build it again, and I wanted to because I did not like it broken," he said.
And we discussed ways he could try and recall how to build it, before the conversation drifted off elsewhere.

After a conversation with a friend, I realised even more clearly as to how I had responded to his anger from a space of not being okay with it and judging him and myself for that. I also wanted to find out from Raghav what he felt he had got when he broke his friend's ship and why he wanted to break it. And so I went back to him and asked him. This is what he said:
"I wanted to break his ship because I wanted to show him how angry I was and I could not think of a better way to show it."
Me: "So does that mean that if you found a better way of showing him how angry you were, you would not have done that?"
R: "Maybe.....but I also think that I could not have shown my anger in any other way....sometimes, you can't help it....you can't control your anger."
Me: "What did you think you would get when you broke it? And did you finally get what you wanted?"
R: "I only wanted to show my anger. I didn't want anything else. I didn't get anything by breaking it."
Me: "So what do you think you would do the next time? Would you do the same thing or try something different?"
R: "Try something else maybe......but maybe not. Because sometimes you just can't help it....I have to show my anger."

This incident and the conversation left me with many questions...

• Why is anger such a mistreated emotion, which is almost treated like an outcast....to be done away with?
• Can I make space to hold anger in myself and the other? By making space I mean getting comfortable with it......just like being with noise instead of running away and seeking out silence?
• As a mother and a fellow human being, can I see and stay with another's 'meanness' instead of putting it down as something that needs to be changed or fixed according to my idea of what is not 'mean'?
• When we are sad we cry and even wail sometimes, when we are happy or excited we laugh out loud and even scream sometimes, but when we are angry, we are not allowed to show it in a way we want to (without physically harming another person).....why? 
• Why do we have this idea in our heads that anger harms? Is there another way of seeing anger?
• Why do we look for moderation in everything, including emotions, and yet use the metaphor of emotions being like the waves in the ocean? Well waves can be wild and tempestuous too, not only gentle and cavorting isn't it?
• Why do we want to control everything? Is it because we are too scared of losing control?

On Anger

This morning, my husband got a call from someone in his Madurai office, which made him retort in extreme anger. His voice became louder, his tone increased in harshness and he was simply screaming over the phone at the other person.

At the same time, while I was busy with my household chores, Raghav was talking to me about his explorations and adventures in Minecraft from yesterday. I was trying hard to concentrate and listen fully to him talking, but I couldn't. My husband's screaming was the only thing resonating inside and everything else seemed to simply shut down. So I told Raghav how I was feeling and asked him to wait until his father calmed down to continue his conversation. This happened a couple of times. The last time, he got a little irritated as he desperately wanted to finish sharing what he was thinking about.

Then, he went to the dining table, took out a pen and a piece of paper and wrote out something that he went and gave to his dad. A little later, my husband's voice softened and he stopped screaming. Later, when I asked Raghav what he had given his dad, he brought out the piece of paper and showed it to me....

 

And then we spoke some more...

Me: What do you think we can do when we feel so much anger?

R: I don't know. But maybe not show it out like this.....because when you get angry and scream, the other person gets angry, and then you get a little more angry, and the other person gets a little more angry, and then it never stops.

Profound but simple words that tell me how much he has observed and thought about without maybe even being conscious about it. Or maybe he already knows. I don't know. And I also know how tough it is for him to remember this when he himself gets angry :) But I quietly told myself that I could use this to remind him :)

But this is a huge learning for me about anger, how to deal with it, and about my son. The fact that he could see the 'pattern' that we get into because of anger, the fact that he chose a beautiful, non-intrusive way to tell his dad what he felt by writing it out instead of telling him orally, the fact that he actually wrote it all out (because writing is something he doesn't care about at all) are all beautiful things that I would love to stay with today. I love these little gifts that Life brings me day after every wonderful day!

To see what we don't want to see....

We were just leaving to go home, after spending the whole day at my parents' place with my sister and little nephews. Raghav was packing all his stuff into his bags. My little nephew was trying to help him, and picked up Raghav's new Lego creation - a train that he had just finished building over two days. As he was carrying and moving it to the bag, it fell from his hand and parts of it came off. Raghav screamed - his eyes closed tight, his hands fisted, his teeth grit hard, his whole body taut with anger. My little nephew looked a bit rattled and upset as he clung to my father, hugging him tight while sitting on his lap. He didn't budge from there for the rest of the time that we were there.

Soon, there were more screams from Raghav (when Raghav screams, he really SCREAMS!!) as he picked up the pieces and figured out that one piece was actually broken. Six adults (each with their own thoughts), one bewildered little baby, one kid who was like a mini volcano erupting, and another little kid who seemed confused and upset.

Raghav ran away screaming into another room. I went with him. For the first time I think, Raghav allowed me to go near him and hold him. Usually he needs and would ask for his space (to be physically away) when he was going through some strong emotions. I held him and asked if he was feeling angry. "I am really really very angry!!!....with A!!", he screamed, bursting into tears. "That piece is broken.....it cannot be fixed! he should not hold it that way...he must carry it with two hands!", he cried.

I understood how he felt. This was a new set that we had got him for Christmas, after many many months. Both my nephew and Raghav had sat down to build with their new sets today. Raghav was heartbroken that the set he had wanted for so long, what he had waited to get and build for so long, was broken. It was a little piece that was broken. But it was not only a little piece.

My husband and I sat down to try and figure out with Raghav as to which piece had broken. Everyone else was around watching us.
My mother added: " What do you get out of screaming? Is it going to get fixed?"
Raghav replied vehemently, screaming even more:"I can't help it! I am angry!"
And I added quietly: "He is very angry and so wants to scream."

My husband picked up the train and examined it. Raghav showed him where it had broken. We realised that it could not be fixed, nor could it be stuck with strong glue, as that part would then become immobile. But the train could still move on tracks. My husband showed that to him. We suggested that he could remember to carry that part separately in his hand, every time he was carrying the train, so that it would not fall off again. Raghav agreed. He then tried to fix the other parts that had come off. But they weren't fixing properly as he was already very irritated. We heard a few more screams as he tried to fix them again and again. My husband suggested that he put everything in the bag as they were and go home and try and fix them, as he would be in a better space - calmer and less angry. "No, I won't be calmer!", Raghav screamed.

All he was looking for was for us to stay with him and his anger in that moment. He was not asking for it to be fixed or wished away. "I am very angry. Can you all just listen to that and accept that? Can you stop telling me how to make it go away?" Those were his words without words. I am not sure how many of us really 'listened' to that.

I looked at my nephew. I wanted to hug them both. But realised that both were not in a space to receive that. I asked him if he was trying to help Raghav, when he carried the train. He nodded and said yes. I turned to Raghav and shared with him how A was trying to help him, but that it probably slipped from his hand and fell. "That's not the way he should carry it", said Raghav. "I know, but A didn't know that," I added. And we left it at that.

Soon enough, he finished fixing the parts that he had been trying to fix through his anger, and was ready to leave. I went over to my little nephew, rubbed his back gently and whispered to him that Raghav was now very angry, but that he would probably be okay tomorrow. I told him we would meet tomorrow and we said our byes to leave to go home. My husband whispered to Raghav, asking if he would like to go and give A a hug and say something to him. Raghav shook his head vehemently, refusing to do that. We said bye to everyone and left quietly.

Later that night, just before getting ready to sleep, I asked Raghav how he was feeling.
"I feel better now. I am not angry," he said with a little smile.
I told him how I had spoken to my sister and that they were planning to come over to our place tomorrow.
"Ok....oh, then I have to remember to give those two red Lego pieces to A....his set doesn't have them, or he has lost them....I want to give two of mine to him, so he can finish off that car tomorrow. I have to help him finish that", he said. We both smiled, hugged each other and went to sleep.

So much had transpired in that little time. There was so much to learn for all of us. It wasn't about the children. It wasn't about what had happened. It was about a lot of other things....things to do with each of us and how we look at ourselves and our own thoughts and emotions. What was important to us? The process or the end? To sort things out and 'fix' them, or take things as they are, let things be and find their own levels in their own time?

This was my learning today....

Often we are so focused on the pattern we are creating or the stitches we are making, mostly focusing on trying to 'finish' the pattern or stitch, instead of watching how we are holding the cloth or needle, how we are moving it, and how it disappears into one hole and comes out through the other.

It is in these gaps between holes that the most important things happen.

Yet, we often forget this and get lost in how we can get down to 'bridging' the gap between the holes.

This is what we mostly do with all our interactions. We are often so focused on finding solutions and managing the situation, rather than staying with the emotions and our humanness. We get caught in the 'product' instead of the 'process'.

A knitter only appears to be knitting yarn. 

Also being knitted are winks, mischief, sighs, 

fragrant possibilities, wild dreams. 

~Dr. SunWolf

I also want to add here, the lovely piece about ANGER, written by the poet David Whyte. I feel that it is quite a misunderstood emotion and one that is often wished away by most people.....

ANGER

is the deepest form of compassion, for another, for the world, for the self, for a life, for the body, for a family and for all our ideals, all vulnerable and all, possibly about to be hurt. Stripped of physical imprisonment and violent reaction, anger is the purest form of care, the internal living flame of anger always illuminates what we belong to, what we wish to protect and what we are willing to hazard ourselves for. What we usually call anger is only what is left of its essence when it reaches the lost surface of our mind or our body’s incapacity to hold it, or the limits of our understanding. What we name as anger is actually only the incoherent physical incapacity to sustain this deep form of care in our outer daily life; the unwillingness to be large enough and generous enough to hold what we love helplessly in our bodies or our mind with the clarity and breadth of our whole being.

What we have named as anger on the surface is the violent outer response to our own inner powerlessness, a powerlessness connected to such a profound sense of rawness and care that it can find no proper outer body or identity or voice, or way of life to hold it. What we call anger is often simply the unwillingness to live the full measure of our fears or of our not knowing, in the face of our love for a wife, in the depth of our caring for a son, in our wanting the best, in the face of simply being alive and loving those with whom we live.

Our anger breaks to the surface most often through our feeling there is something profoundly wrong with this powerlessness and vulnerability; anger too often finds its voice strangely, through our incoherence and through our inability to speak, but anger in its pure state is the measure of the way we are implicated in the world and made vulnerable through love in all its specifics: a daughter, a house, a family, an enterprise, a land or a colleague. 

Anger turns to violence and violent speech when the mind refuses to countenance the vulnerability of the body in its love for all these outer things - we are often abused or have been abused by those who love us but have no vehicle to carry its understanding, who have no outer emblems of their inner care or even their own wanting to be wanted. Lacking any outer vehicle for the expression of this inner rawness they are simply overwhelmed by the elemental nature of love’s vulnerability. In their helplessness they turn their violence on the very people who are the outer representation of this inner lack of control.

But anger truly felt at its center is the essential living flame of being fully alive and fully here, it is a quality to be followed to its source, to be prized, to be tended, and an invitation to finding a way to bring that source fully into the world through making the mind clearer and more generous, the heart more compassionate and the body larger and strong enough to hold it. What we call anger on the surface only serves to define its true underlying quality by being a complete and absolute mirror-opposite of its true internal essence.

©2014 David Whyte
Excerpted from ‘ANGER’ From CONSOLATIONS: The Solace, Nourishment and Underlying Meaning of Everyday Words

What I don't like in myself is what I don't like in others

Conversations from this morning....

R woke up wanting to build a surprise for me out of his Lego blocks - for Christmas. He has been building little things because Christmas is his favourite festival. A little later, he came out of his room with a Lego creation of a little Santa on a sleigh with presents, pulled by Rudolph. Then we got talking about presents.
Me: What do you think is the best present/gift you have got?
R: You, appa and myself.
Me: So why do you feel that this is the best gift?
R: I don't know....I love you both a lot....and I love myself....I know it sounds a bit weird to say that 'I love myself'....to hear me saying it about myself...
Me: Why do you feel it is weird? Do you think it is wrong to feel and say that you love yourself?
R: No. I don't feel it is wrong. I just love myself. But it sounds weird.
Me: Is there anything that you don't like about yourself?
R: No. I like everything.
Me: Is there anything that you don't like about other people?
R: Yes. There is one thing I can think of. I don't like people getting angry with me.
Me: Do you like yourself getting angry?
R: No.
Me: Why?
R: I don't know. It is because of the way it makes me feel inside....And with other people, like with my friends, what I don't like about them comes through experience....what happens when I am with them. So if I like them 100 percent in the beginning, then if something happens that I don't like, then it comes down by say 1%.
Me: Ok...so you don't like people getting angry with you....and you don't like yourself getting angry?
R: Yes....What I don't like in myself is what I don't like in others.