It’s dark outside. The world has, seemingly, not yet wakened. But inside the house things are buzzing here like a hive of worker bees. I woke this morning on the edge of a dream wherein my daughter and I had slept in way too long and had both missed our first class. I sprung out of bed in sheer panic, knowing that missing this class would put me so far behind that I may not catch up. Ever.
As I stood beside the bed, rapidly breathing high in my chest, I felt my anger bubbling at dangerously high levels. Consciously, I inhaled and exhaled through my nose to slow my breathing rate and deepened it so that it filled my belly. Slowly, my vision cleared, my heart slowed and the anger slipped away.
Anger is my friend, showing up instantaneously to protect me when I am scared. I’ve come to value this emotional experience as it is a reminder of the aliveness that courses through my systems. Once upon a time, I did everything possible to avoid feeling angry and ended up, instead, being continually angry.
These days, I welcome it because I know, as with all of my emotions, this too shall pass – if I allow it.