Anger

That which I call demons and the story metaphorically calls tigers in the previous posts is what we in recovery refer to as character defects. Anger seems to be the defect of character from which I suffer most. It has been my observation that anger is always fear in some form or another, even if at the moment I feel it I cannot identify the fear involved.

One of my major fears, now that I am at a point of my recovery where the most frequent experiences of discomfort in sobriety have passed, is that some action of mine or another person, place, thing, or institution will come along to put me out of balance and that I will then suffer that acute discomfort I felt when I was first getting sober. Being a good Buddhist, though, I recognize (intellectually, anyway) that of course things will come along that will make me uncomfortable. Some of them might even make me feel truly awful, such as the death of a loved one or a serious illness. When my balance is threatened, I feel a surge of anger and find it almost beyond my abilities to keep my tongue or pen in check.

This happened to me just yesterday, at an AA event, no less. One of my fellow recovering alcoholics (I want to describe him as "blowhard" and "pompous," my impulse being to set up the expectation in a reader and myself that he was at fault and I am blameless) expressed an opinion I was sure was incorrect, so I interrupted him to let him know that he was proceeding down an errant path. He didn't appreciate the interruption and made sure to let me know about it later; this made me angry (the method, not his message), and I had to walk away to avoid a confrontation.

One of the problems with anger is that it is so unworkable. It is a hot coal I can't hold for long enough in my calm observation to find where it can be taken apart and examined. For me, this is why the recognition of anger as fear is so helpful. If my anger is fear and the other person's is also, I can feel compassion for us both, and with this compassionately held fear, come to an understanding of what my part is in the confrontation.

Which is not to say that the other person in nearly any confrontation does not also have a large part (perhaps the larger part) in the creation of the situation which induces anger. However, as the book Alcoholics Anonymous says (pg. 66), "to conclude that others were wrong was as far as most of us ever got". What I must do is find it in my heart to forgive their part, to pray that their anger and its sources to be eased, and then to identify what in me caused this situation to be a problem for us both. When I find what my part was, then I can make amends to the person I offended and pray that the character defect which caused the flare-up be removed. At that point, I must turn the situation over to God and let it be. To bring something up in my mind over and over again is only to cause myself harm. In fact, the root meaning of the word resentment is "to feel again." No solution is to be found in this action; it must be let go. As the old saying goes, "resentment is like swallowing poison and expecting the other person to die."

Why this insistence on letting go of the problem once it has been addressed to the best of our ability? Because, to quote once again from Alcoholics Anonymous (pg. 66): "It is plain that a life which includes deep resentment leads only to futility and unhappiness. To the precise extent that we permit these, do we squander the hours that might have been worth while....For when harboring such feelings we shut ourselves off from the sunlight of the Spirit."