Getting Over Getting Mad: Positive Ways to Manage Anger in Your Most Important Relationships (8 page)

Look to the heavens and hold your head up high, seek reconciliation, pray for forgiveness. Let your thoughts come and go. Meditate on the sky. You're part of the universe, and so are your friends and enemies. We're all part of the Great Spirit. Watch the birds that come by and imagine yourself flying. This is much better than spending hours waging war and justifying.

Sadly, some folks relish hearsay and scandals. They like to pretend to have all the answers. They're proud, they have big egos. Joseph Campbell said, “Sad is the man who doesn't know about the unseen forces in the universe.” There are many unseen hands ready to assist us whenever we ask. By praying instead of gossiping, we surrender to a power that is
larger than we are. We acknowledge that we aren't in charge of everything.

You don't have to say any fancy words when you pray. A simple prayer straight from your heart will do. “Dear Heavenly One, I'm angry at my mother. Please reveal to me what I need to do to heal this upset between us.” When you pray you surrender to the power of the universe and you open the way for peace and love to arrive.

When you're angry, pray about it, ask for guidance, wait for the answer, then follow the advice.

The baseline for much of our shrouded anger is locked-up desires, hidden wishes, unfulfilled longings. Tears of frustration, mild depression, freefloating anxiety, and downright unhappiness cover up our secret aspirations. We think the good life is for movie stars, artists, or the more intelligent. We doubt ourselves, we're sure we don't have what it takes. Paralyzed with worry that others will judge us as selfish or brazen, we postpone fulfilling even the simplest desires. Soon we're afraid to try. So we lock our dreams away and feel cheated. We become lethargic, live through others, feel irritable and defeated. Our expression turns sad, our eyes turn green with envy, our gaze becomes blank. We're angry but don't know it, or if we do know it, we don't want to admit it, and we never, never want to show it.

What do you want to do with your shrouded anger? Are you content with the status quo? Do you want to retreat from life, or do you want to seize it? Materializing dreams means saying “No!” to what you don't want, so that you can say “Yes!” to what you do want.

No is a very important word. Why else would a two-year-old spend an entire year learning to say it? We all have to learn to say “No” to what doesn't fit, so that we can say “Yes” to what does. Elizabeth said, “No, thank you,” to her mother-in-law, who wanted to take her out for a birthday lunch, so that she could say “Yes” to the way she really wanted to spend the day—-staying in bed and reading.

Some folks say “Yes” when they mean “No,” and vice versa. What they're left with is free-floating anxiety. Frustration, anxiety, and anger are triplets. Anger is specific and directed at the other person: “I'm mad at you.” Anxiety is nonspecific and directed inward: “I'm anxious and irritable, but I don't know why.” Frustration is an interruption that gets in the way of getting what you want. Consciously saying “Yes” and “No” eliminates all three.

Anger, anxiety, and frustration have a lot to do with how you approach life—as a choice or an obligation. If you experience life as an obligation rather than a choice, anxieties and resentments are bound to build up. That's how folks get filled with indignation.

You've probably heard stories of people who've decided to cash in their saving and sell their belongings and live on a sailboat. Perhaps you know someone who has simplified their lifestyle by moving to the country. You've may have been inspired by those courageous souls who, despite
physical handicaps, learned to ski. We all have choices—we can say “Yes” and we can say “No.”

We can follow our own hearts. Even though we're afraid and have no idea of what the outcome will be. Others may laugh and mock us, and we might fail, but won't it feel great if we succeed? And having a vision of how great that would feel, every step becomes a thrill.

Try this anger-reducing exercise: For one week, say “Yes” and “No”’ clearly and frequently.

Over the years, my various housemates could tell when I was angry, anxious, or frustrated by how intensely I cleaned the house. When things were going downhill, I'd wax the floor or polish the silver. Whenever I'm really mad, lost, bored, or disgusted, reorganizing the cupboards cleans out cobwebs from my brain. I clear out the junk in the garage, I sort the clothes in my closest, I throw away papers. By getting rid of the old I make space for something new.

Oprah has said that once a year she cleans her drawers and cupboards; at the same time she goes through her phone book and clears out the phone numbers of acquaintances or relatives whose negativity brings her down. She wants people in her life who lift her up. A healthy relationship is one that inspires you. Do an inventory of the people in your life. Do they lift you up or tear you down? Are they positive or negative? Do they take responsibility for their own anger, behavior, attitude, and choices, or do they blame others?

If you have hateful negative people around you, you will be influenced by them. If you're hanging around with folks who wallow in muck, that's where you'll be wallowing. All those grumpy, hostile, cranky, sarcastic, cantankerous folks who love to give you a hard time are frustrated. They're encumbered with irrational beliefs that they haven't cleaned up. Complaining together keeps you both feeling grimy. Like kitchen cupboards that need cleaning, our attitudes and thoughts need a thorough going over.

While you're cleaning the closest, clear out your emotional baggage at the same time. Box up those irrational beliefs that keep you spinning. While you don't want to hang out with negative friends or be around folks who put you down, avoiding annoying acquaintances altogether is not the final solution. It's our own grandiosity that really keeps us stuck. Staying cool in the face of life's aggravation means that you have to admit that the majority of your anger is brought on by your own inflated idea that others should always treat you well. We humans seem to have the conviction that we're so special that others should see it and treat us like kings and queens. When they don't, we get mad. When you think that someone should give you special treatment and they don't, that's when things turn hostile.

You can live happily without fame and fortune, without limousines
and maid service. When you accept that you are no more special than anyone else, you can clean the house and feel good about it. Then you can encounter life's injustice and remain friendly.

When you know your own worth, there's no need to be mad if others don't treat you well.

Rosie told me her story of forgiveness:

My father and I didn't get along. If there were two sides of an issue, he'd be on one, and I'd take the other. Talk about anger! That man had an accomplished temper. I honestly don't remember very much violence from him, but his threats struck terror into the hearts of my brothers and me. His shouting and fuming caused real harm. My parents would shout and argue, and as a child I'd cover my ears and hide. When they weren't arguing, Dad treated my mother like the maid we didn't have and she'd comply. In my late teens, I'd beg her to divorce him, but she just said that wasn't her way.

Then Dad got sick, a long, mysterious, complicated brain disorder. My mother had to provide twenty-four-hour nursing because he refused to go to a convalescent hospital. After eight years, he had a stroke and had to go into a nursing home. I visited my dad every two weeks, even though he was unable to talk or respond. Finally I got my nerve up to talk with him, not knowing if he could hear me. I told him it was time to let go, that the doctors said he wouldn't be getting any better, and that he should feel good that he'd lived a good life, had many friends, and that his family loved him. I couldn't tell a dying man that there wasn't much love left.

Dad died, and a few days later, my brothers came from out of town to pay their last respects. The church in the memorial park was filled up. It was true that he had lots of friends, from every segment of his life—work, hobbies, convalescent hospital. He had been a good friend, even though he hadn't shown that warmth to his family. When the minister didn't arrive, the coordinator said we'd better go ahead with the service. My mother turned to me and my brothers and said, “You do it. But please don't say anything mean.”

A do-it-yourself funeral was the last thing we'd had in mind. My brothers were overcome with nervousness and emotion and were unable to say much. I stepped up to the front of the
church, looked at the people, and said, “My father would have hated this.” Everyone laughed, because it was true that Dad was a stickler for things being right. From then on the service went fine. We had the prayers and the music; I described his life story, leaving out any anger and hate. I didn't lie, but I just said whatever neutral or positive things I could, emphasizing what a good friend he had been to so many. It was a wonderful service, and a great way to close my relationship with him.

So what if we didn't get along? Should I let that define my life? At the close of his life, there arose an opportunity for me to be free from him and free from anger toward him. The anger had never been good in any way, and I was glad to be rid of it. When the minister finally showed up, after the service had ended, I hugged him.

Happiness begins with the understanding that holding onto anger doesn't do you any good. We're all capable of doing terrible things; we're all imperfectly human. By accepting our own defects of character, we can forgive others. Forgiveness is not ignoring the hurtful words or actions that wounded you; rather it's opening your heart wide enough to see from a larger perspective. It's understanding that anger hurts the perpetuator as much as the victim. When you forgive and are forgiven, you open the way for happiness to come in.

Forgiveness means to accept yourself and the other person as is, no grudge, no complaint, no grumbling.

Whenever I'm bewildered, irritable, impatient, down in the dumps, or flat out mad, I put on my favorite version of “Amazing Grace” and I listen to it over and over again until I can't remember what was annoying me in the first place. Listening to “Amazing Grace” lifts my spirits, and I can let go of petty annoyances and find compassion. In the big scheme of things, most of what irritates us is either imagined or insignificant. When I'm trying to control what I can't control, when I'm taking myself too seriously, listening to Art Garfunkel and his son James singing “Good Luck Charm” opens my heart so wide that I feel as if I can make room for my enemies.