We all feel some type of anger at certain times. Some of us suppress it and smile, pretending nothing is wrong; some of us are passive aggressive, feeling sour or bitter and quietly acting out at the right (wrong) time; some of us rage and regret it afterwards, some of us mutter things about karma, some “bless them with what they deserve”, some try to love despite what is happening, gritting their teeth and apparently only hurt themselves with their  smoldering anger.

Anger comes with different faces and names. Not human names, names of degrees of emotions: irritation, annoyance, frustration, agitation, disgruntled, grumpy, wrath, vengeance, violence… The list goes on and on. My daughter had her own word, when she was small: disgruntlelated.

I was the one who always said “I am not angry” because as a child, when my father died and I stamped my feet because I wanted him back, my mother punished me for being bad. Of course I wanted to be acceptable and earn her love and so I smiled and pretended nothing was wrong. And that’s how I got by in life (after a fashion).

I do think that being taught how to express anger safely in a healthy way is a good idea. I only learned that it was OK to be angry and express it wisely in my 40’s. I learned that anger can be a positive tool in identifying what the real problem is and then figuring out how to rectify the situation for a better outcome. It means that one needs to become vulnerable and humble and brave enough to stand one’s ground in a bold, confident way as well as being kind and respectful. It is a continuous journey into adulthood and kind-authenticity. In other words reaching toward maturity.

I have been writing a story and creating illustrations for my personal amusement and expression. It could become an adult’s picture book story. In the story there’s a little girl and a queen, there are nymphs and elves, and Forrest creatures such as: owls, foxes, badgers, pinemartens, rabbits and deer. I say no more lest I give the story away too soon, but here is a poem about the presence that pervades the little girl when she is grumpy.

She wares a black cloak
That flows all around her
Like clouds enveloping 
Even covering her head. 
With frowns like clouds
Passing over her forehead 
Downcast eyes 
And pouting, plump lips 
She broods and fusses 
Over annoying things 
This is especially true 
When she has had
Too much to do. 
Everything irritates her:
Too tight clothes 
And scratchy chairs 
Too shrill voices 
And comments 
Cast unawares;
All things that once 
Were tolerable
Now become so insufferable. 
She's lost her smile
and her wings
And she stomps her boots 
On everything. 
Eventually she comes to a standstill 
And plops down in a huff
Sitting on a toad stool. 

Now what is she to do? 

Indeed what is she going to do?

What do you do when you are angry?

Sometimes anger is justified, sometimes it is not. The Anger response is a very complex emotion stirred up for many different reasons. I am not really wanting to give you a lesson about it. I just want to stir up the cauldron, it’s for you to see what comes up and search for your own answers.

Wishing you a magical hour, at this present time, being blessed with what you deserve 😜

Take care

~Morag Noffke