When Rage Rears Its Ugly Head

I sit here in the Marriott in Cold Spring, NY waiting for my husband to come and pick me up for one final evening with the family before heading back home to South Carolina.  I have tried to rest today, eyes shut, envisioning Archangel Raphael's green loving light engulfing my body.  It has been a difficult week.  Sometimes being in close proximity to family for more than a few days at a time can be stressful.

This week, I saw myself, yet again, facing a difficult situation with my mother-in-law.  Through her frustration with her own life, I was reminded of my own rage, my own blow ups, my own blame, the blame I have so eagerly placed on others for my own unhappiness.  Oh, the rage is still there, yes indeed.  Years and years and years of holding onto to feelings that don't serve us will come out time and again manifesting  in physical and emotional pain.  I say that as I sit here, shoulder throbbing for no apparent reason whatsoever, at least not to the logical eye. 

But this time was, at least, a little different.  Instead of continuing the screaming battle, normally followed by an abrupt exit, I remembered how my husband forgave me for my blow ups and how he held me as I sobbed in frustration at my own inability to love myself.  In that moment, thinking of him, my mother-in-law started to sob.  I could not walk away.  I hugged her and held her and told her I loved her.  I told her we just want her to be happy.  We want happiness for her.  And then we sat and talked for a few moments, at least, until we were interrupted by icy snowy wet pants freezing the buns off of my six-year-old.

I shared with her the many years of experience and familiarity, the relationship I had with rage, starting with rape.  I had never shared any of this personal information with her before.  I told her, how for many years, I was accustomed to coming into a conversation with anyone, dukes up, ready to do battle, my unique talent of manipulating men or anyone for that matter.  I said to her, "I don't want to live that way anymore.  That's not who I am."  And this rage, is not who she is.  It does not define who we are, any of us. It is a red flashing light that says, if it could talk of course, "STOP.  Love Yourself."

Even though this episode ended in hugs and forgiveness, I still find myself wanting to meditate, to love and release myself from internalizing someone elses rage, something of a common occurence not so long ago.  This comes with practice.  Lots and lots of practice.

May we all go into the New Year meditating a little more on loving, showing compassion, kindness and forgiveness toward others and toward ourselves.  May we first seek joy, in all things. May we enjoy a more peaceful, healthy and prosperous life in 2010.  Happy New Year!