Posted on Aug 19, 2013
August is nearing its finish. I missed the mid-month mark for my blog entry as I was on holidays — took a week off to check out Kootenay National Park and Radium Hot Springs in BC. Wonderful place! I highly recommend taking a time-out from the rat race in this quite little corner of the world.
As for taking breaks, I decided I would cheat a little this month and share a tale I came across in a marvelous book by Will Schwalbe chronicling how he processes the life and death of his mother in a beautifully written memoir entitled, The End of Your Life Book Club (2012, pp. 21-22).
In a ‘convenient’ twist, this coincides with the approaching end of August that also marks the ending of summer. While the weather may not be convinced, and the lunar calendar declares its still summer well into September, the yearly routines shift gears in the coming weeks.
As you consider the shifts in seasons and schedules, keep in mind this little tale.
Appointment in Samarra
(classic Iraqi tale)
There was a merchant in Baghdad who sent his servant to market to buy provisions and in a little while the servant came back, white and trembling, and said, “Master, just now when I was in the marketplace I was jostled by a woman in the crowd and when I turned I saw it was Death that jostled me. She looked at me and made a threatening gesture; now, lend me your horse, and I will ride away from this city and avoid my fate. I will go to Samarra and there Death will not find me.”
The merchant lent him his horse, and the servant mounted it, and he dug his spurs in its flanks and as fast as the horse could gallop he went. Then the merchant went down to the marketplace and he saw me standing in the crowd and he came to me and said, “Why did you make a threatening gesture to my servant when you saw him this morning?” “That was not a threatening gesture,” I said, “it was only a start of surprise. I was astonished to see him Baghdad for I had an appointment with him tonight in Samarra.”
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Posted on Jul 16, 2013
I am returning to the subject of anger (see October 2010) because I have learned so much in the past few months about this beneficial yet complicated emotion. Many of us remain confused how to manage this ‘dangerous’ emotion and the mixed messages we have received about it over the years. One book I highly recommend is Harriet Lerner’s The Dance of Anger (1985). The book I am referencing in this article is called The Language of Emotions by Karla McLaren (2010) which takes a completely different look at emotions and may not be everyone’s cup of tea; but her take on anger is worth reflection.
All our emotions are extremely valuable and informative. In the case of anger, it informs us when boundaries have been crossed, neglected, and/or encountered. As a sentry of boundaries, anger lets us know when we must ask two very important questions:
1) What needs protection?
2) What needs restoration?
This can apply when we’ve crossed a boundary, let down a boundary, met a boundary, or enforced a boundary. It also applies to injustices we witness against groups of people—racial or gender injustices, violence, economic disparities, or the injustice of not everyone having access to clean drinking water and nutritional food resources.
So what do we do when our anger is roused? First we must welcome it as a source of information before we consider expressing or repressing it, letting it pass through us, or making use of its energy. Then we must ask ourselves what message our anger is bringing. So often we shoot the messenger before we even receive the message when it comes to anger! Or take it out on the perceived source of anger. But if we commit to using our anger for good, then we must welcome it as a resource rather than relegate it to a reaction and risk misdirecting our energies in unhelpful, even harmful, ways.
Back to our 2 questions. Very often our anger indicates there are boundaries that need to be protected. We’ve either crossed a line, or someone has crossed one of ours. We need to refocus our energy on resetting the boundaries and/or re-enforcing them. Boundaries are a form of protection, so it might help to consider what became vulnerable or exposed. Was it our sense of self? Energy levels? Family time? Down time? A friendship? A committed partnership? A child? The list is endless.
Once we’ve established what was exposed and made vulnerable, we need to consider what needs to be restored such as our sense of self or someone else’s. Did we cave in to a request that we really didn’t have time and energy for? Did we allow other commitments to take time and energy away from a relationship or family? Did we return to a role we used to play (such as rescuer, protector, scapegoat, etc)? Did we expect too much of someone else and encountered their boundary? Did we take advantage of someone or allow someone to take advantage of us? Did we not intervene when we had opportunity, or did we intervene when it was unnecessary?
Once we’ve listened to what our anger has to say, then it becomes clearer how to direct that amazing energy source in positive ways. Do we need to say no instead of yes? Do we need to apologize and make amends? Do we need to offer assistance instead of turning away? Do we need to honour our own self instead of playing a role or being manipulated? Do we need to speak up or hold our tongue?
The scenarios and options are limitless. And by clarifying anger in this way, we no longer have to be afraid of it—especially our own. Of course, there remains the risk of someone’s irresponsible use of anger putting us in harm’s way. Our boundaries need to be re-enforced to keep ourselves safe—whether in the form of a safety plan, an escape route, improved negotiation skills, or back-up safety team. And if our anger and boundaries serve their purposes, hopefully we can improve risk management.
May your anger serve its beneficial purposes keeping yourself and others safe and enable you to live more fully.
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Posted on Jun 16, 2013
Another Father’s Day has come and gone. Hoping to post something a bit earlier, but it didn’t happen. I was pondering about how special days of the year like Father’s (or Mother’s) Day can be times of true gratitude or significant pain. Maybe even both for some.
These occasions put social pressure upon people to express what they do not feel, trigger grief over lost loved ones, or provide painful reminders of betrayals and difficult childhoods. For those fortunate to have positive childhood memories and healthy relationships with fathers and male mentors, it is a happy time to honour these important people. It can get complicated when there are memories of good times and bad, positive role models and negative ones. Some people we want to forget, others we want to honour and remember.
So how do we get through these days when more is expected of us than we think we can give? Or when what is expected is contrary to what we feel and believe? It is hard to express gratitude to someone who triggers painful memories. Even harder if the relationship continues to be tense or unhealthy. Sometimes we can resolve the baggage. Sometimes that is unthinkable or undesirable. It can seem better to fake it than drudge up past hurts or rock the boat. It is only one day, after all.
Other times it seems impossible if we strive to be people of integrity. How can we sleep at night knowing we gave a false representation of ourselves? Said what we did not mean. Expressed gratitude or honour we did not feel.
Times like these, we need to be honest with ourselves and acknowledge the reasons we choose to ‘make nice.’ We are not doing it because it is genuine—not even due to social pressure or obligation. We do it because it is easier. It is easier to keep the peace than to confront ugly baggage. For at least one day, we can suck it up and pretend everything is okay. We can make the socially acceptable gestures to avoid a fight, retaliation, recrimination, critical comments, emotional blackmail, drama, whining, the list goes on. Or we do it to receive validation and praise. To believe our opinion matters. We do this for ourselves—and maybe the ‘greater good’ of family dynamics—but we do not do it for the ‘person of the day.’
And if you have a guilty conscience, may I be the one to grant you permission to do this—as long as you are aware of what you are doing and why. If you are apart from the significant person (either through death or distance—emotional or geographical), it may be helpful to write a letter saying all the things you cannot in person. This is not a letter the person will receive. It is a letter for you to finally freely express yourself without concern for the fallout. It may also be a letter of good-bye or remembrance if the relationship has been severed by death or distance.
It is also okay to give yourself permission to be “socially acceptable” for yourself—just because it is permissible to do things for ourselves, especially if we have a tendency to give with great personal sacrifice. Consider this a win-win situation. The person of the day receives attention at the same time that you choose the easier route for your own sanity or emotional health. Of course, this comes with a caveat. Do this too frequently, and we live in a constant state of toxic relationship. It requires thoughtful consideration of what we choose to do—and then work with the consequences.
May these special occasions enhance your life, clarify relationships, and assist you to live more fully.
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