Getting Un-Angry

Today I woke up angry. Not like wrong-side-of-the-bed-angry. More like, hot in my head, hot in my hands, wanted to pick a fight with myself AND everything in my path.

Have you felt this way lately? The worst is when these intense feelings of anger, “come up for no reason.” The trauma investigator inside of me knows there is probably a reason, I’m just failing to see it. So today, I ran towards it. I dove deep into the unknown place that was holding my heart in a hate hold.

For me, the best and most effective way to get to the root of my emotions is to be ACTIVELY ALONE.

During quarantine times, being actively alone is a big ol’ joke. I’m out of work, my partner’s hours are significantly cut back, and our two year old daughter, Waverly, hangs on me like a spare appendage all. day. long. It’s a madhouse most days, but we’re making the best of it.

In the rare case I do get alone time, like my weekly shower (that I use to cry) or using the bathroom (15% chance of being alone if the TV is on), I am not being actively alone. I’m not connecting to my breath, or scanning my body to see what’s coming up, or having a solid moment of silence to hear my own thoughts. Instead, these rare respites are spent scrolling Instagram, being click-baited by strategically placed ads, mindlessly loading up on material items I can’t afford until I snap out of it and abandon the cart I just spent a half hour filling. That’s not actively alone, that’s distracted.

I grunted at my growing to-do list and knew I couldn’t waste the day sulking and stomping around the house pantsless. Mike took one look at me and offered to take Waverly to the park, to which I replied, “hell yes.”

Once they left, I put my phone on airplane mode. I streamed a workout that makes me sweat and get out of my head: Taryn Toomey’s The Class. I zoned in, paid attention to her, paid attention to myself, to my breath, to the way my body felt when I took a moment to pause. I sang along with some of the songs during the workout. I connected to my voice and how it felt to hear - just for a moment - myself talk nicely to someone and I was talking nicely to myself!

As I flopped and bounced around my toy-infested living room - I wasn’t about to spend my actively alone time picking up puzzle pieces, not today Satan - Taryn said something that really landed with me. She said something along the lines of, “can you turn your anger into compassion?” CAN I TARYN? OH, CAN I? I love a good challenge, so I accepted.

For the rest of the workout, I decided to take note of my feelings as they came up and invite compassion into that space. At one point, I went inward and asked, “Can I be more compassionate to myself?” Can I be empathetic that I am pregnant, feeling lonely, missing my friends, missing my job as a yoga teacher, bummed about cancelling holiday plans with family, bummed about cancelling travel plans, feeling financially afraid, feeling tapped out as a mother/entertainer of a toddler, sick of spending money on take out but equally exhausted of cooking and cleaning? Can I be compassionate towards that instead of angry? If I were to hear a retreat guest list the above, would I spew off into a hate-fueled rant OR approach them with, “Wow, that sounds like a lot, I can see why you’re feeling the way you are.” By validating and shifting my perspective a bit, I suddenly felt like I could breathe again, like fresh air was flushing into my lungs and clearing all the crud out. I felt a veil of anger lifted from my chest.

Today I was reminded that not only is LIFE a choice, but how we navigate it. How long could I have remained angry if I chose to stay there? Answer: a long time. Alternately, I told my anger, just as I told the puzzle pieces scattered all over the living room floor, “Not today, Satan. Not today,” and chose a more compassionate mindset instead.

~ Sidenote ~ As a person who struggles with a mental illness, we do not always get to choose our feelings, but often feel like our feelings choose us. Today was an example of how I used an arsenal of self-care tools (movement, breathwork, journaling, active alone time) to redirect my negative emotions. I understand and respect that this is not always the case for myself, and others.