Rage Versus Anguish
Sometimes the anguish wins...
My clients receive the benefit of my rage.
My rage at the courts, my rage at discrimination
My rage at the societal squelching of voices that deserve to be heard
My rage at being a misfit in a society that simultaneously says “everyone deserves to fit in”; and
My rage at so many more things are all drivers for my ability to advocate ferociously.
(This is the “what” portion of my emotion, and “what” points no fingers at “who” should fix the “what”, so the “what” falls on my shoulders or the shoulders of whomever is asking the “what”) Kiplings Six Honest Serving Men are my main filters.
This rage, however is not far from the similar emotion of anguish. This brings me to the “why” portion of my emotion, and this part of my emotion is a System 1 loop, and admittedly, we all need to cycle through this, if just to let go of these feelings and express them. Some call this “spinning out”…
Why do I not fit in?
Why do my kids hate me and see me only as ___________? (Fill in the blank with all of the negative terms I can perceive of them)
Why has my wife, who I love dearly, retreated into a place of disconnect and disengagement?
Why did my parents _______________? (Fill in the blank with all of the experiences)
Why are the courts unfair, when their purported persona is “justice?”
Why does my voice not deserve to be heard in _____________? (Fill in the blank with all of the places that squelch your voice into irrelevance)
Why do I work all of the time, and seemingly have no end to this onslaught of injustice?
Why must I provide energy for people in my family who hate me and scorn me?
Why must my voice be silenced in my own home?
Why have I resigned myself to live in chaos as my purpose-filled path?
Why is love unreachable?
Why, why, why (ad nauseum)
These questions are unanswerable, and only present that life is unfair. Some of them, I have actually assigned positive energy to, and have positive affirmations for. Some of them are festering wounds, patched over with duct tape and intermittent courage.
Today, well, today is my day of anguish.
As in all things, this too shall pass.
P.D., JAY V SHORE