Everyone gets angry. It's a natural response when a threat comes into your world. You fear it could destroy you, so you either run, or you stay and fight it off and destroy that which makes you fearful. Some people can calm themselves after an angry situation, and they either deal with it or they stuff it down to the cores of their soul and file it away to be forgotten forever. Others fly off the handle and blow up, and when the red-eye has faded, all they see is the destruction they've caused. Anger problems occur when the fear never subsides, and it still breathes life into their hearts.
I have an anger problem. It's not one that causes me to be explosive, as I keep a tight lid on my emotions. My anger is much more below the radar. I've allowed it to eat me up from the inside at times, and it was the factor that caused a lot of relationship casualties. I wish I could say I've gotten over it. All those anger management classes say you can get over it, and all it takes is letting go of that which causes you to be angry. Anyone who knows the real fiend-- Anger, the demonic brute-- knows that is all bullshit.
People with real anger know that Anger is born long before you learn the powers of self-recognition. It's a tiny troll that has been leaked into your mind and takes up residence before you even realize that such a being could exist. Anger finds its nest in the part of your mind where you used to hold the iridescent snapshots of beautiful childhood memories, from a time before the reality of unruly, heartless chaos tore down the walls of your innocence. Anger replaces your puerile fantasies with a moving picture-show, starring Fear, Anguish, Loneliness and Helplessness, then hits playback and repeat. Anger makes your food taste different, because it eats up the pleasure of the flavor to feed its own selfish hunger. One eats, but is never satisfied. Anger grows steadily, until you realize it has become something bigger than yourself. Anger is the monster under your bed, the ghost in your closet, the ghoul in every shadow, the face of your every nightmare.
You grow a bit older, and you find that you can never be truly alone because Anger follows you everywhere. It senses the hate in every heart, and tells you that the hate exists because you exist. Anger tells you that you are the problem, and no one will be content until you know this is true. Anger has grown strong enough to wrangle every part of your being into wretched, pitiful submission, and bleeds itself into the open spaces it cleared. Anger begins to spill from your every pore, it weaves itself into every strand of hair and calcifies every nail, and pours its venom into your bloodstream. Anger is the alien parasite that invades your every cell, poisons your mind, and takes its place as the reigning tyrant of your soul.
The years pass, and you find that Anger has turned you into a shell, eating away everything you knew about yourself. Anger has nothing left to feed on, so it begins its search for fresh meat, eating away at the people around you; and you, the miserable, woeful slave, will do nothing to stop it from consuming the ones you love. You are chained to the illusions of guilt and shame that Anger created to keep you in a place where Anger will always be able to dictate, lead and conquer. Your self-imposed crimes keep you weak in Anger's presence, while you watch as those you love the most distance themselves from you. Anger convinces you that it is because of the filthiness of your existence that they all run away. Anger brainwashes you into believing that no one could ever love you, while making sure that the love in your heart is eradicated.
Anger whispers into your ear:
"They don't love you, you're just their slave,
To serve their needs when it's blood they crave,
No one could love a dirty whore,
That's why they run and shut the door.
You have no beauty-- you are a sin,
and everyone knows it, deep within.
You have no talent, you are a waste,
Looking at you leaves a bitter taste.
You know why you're so easy to toss?
You have no value that counts as a loss.
The only one who can tolerate you is me,
Without my presence you'll never be free,
You could not breathe if not from my word,
I am all that protects you from the herd,
You're just a leftover of one's mistake,
So just give up, for everyone's sake..."
How do you break free from this devil? When you've become exhausted from drudging along while carrying anchors on your back, waiting for death to come but never revealing itself, when Anger has consumed every last article and fiber, what saves you?
Find your power within. Your soul is its own source of energy, the capacity to bring light to break down the columns that Anger has built confine you. That power is fueled by Love, the menacing angel that Anger itself fears. No matter how many people you have or don't have in your life, you still have Love, and that comes from the Love you have for yourself. Anger works to keep you believing that you could not exist without it. But remember- Anger fed itself off of everything good about you, therefore, Anger cannot exist without you. Love in your soul is more powerful than any element on this Earth, and it has the power to destroy all that is destructive without ever having to subject itself to the tactics that Anger imposed upon you.
Build up your Love: Embrace all those around you, those you love and those you don't. Lift yourself by lifting the hearts of those who need the parachute. Save the lives of those whom Anger has shackled to the pillars of Shame and Disgrace. Bathe them with the warm waters of true Love, and when they feel themselves clean, they will find the strength to break their own chains. When you see all these poor souls wake up from the dream-like state built upon the lies of Anger, they will destroy their own demons and make their way back to themselves.
While it is true that you won't save everyone, what matters is the lives you did save, and that those lives go on to find those talents of which they'd thought they lost forever, and they use them to better the world-- that is the greatest expression of Love one can bestow.
I have an anger problem. But the problem isn't Me.
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
...Everyone loves a Good Puzzle.
Beginnings are great. There's so much to be discovered, and it's so much fun to get caught up in the rush of putting together the puzzles of the people we encounter.
Some of them are only 25-piece puzzles, with simple pictures. The picture on the box is appealing and colorful , even opening the box is filled with giddy anticipation. Once the lid is off and you begin putting the pieces together, you find that it's just too easy. The flashy colors are still vibrant and the pretty picture is all intact, but there are only 25 pieces. There's no complexity, no challenge to bring that picture together. You can break it down and put it back together in an instant. I've met people that are like this. So beautiful and vibrant, but as hollow as a raccoon's knot in a tree. Getting to know them is already over, just when you thought it had only barely begun. Once you get bored of putting the same puzzle together repeatedly, you pack it up in the box, hand it to the fairy in the closet to hold for you, and you move on to bigger puzzles.
After going through a few puzzles, you find the next challenge-- the 250-piece portrait, the one you have visions of framing once you're done with it. Maybe you're not so much in love with the picture, but it's still a challenge nonetheless. The box is ripped open, you pour all the pieces out at once, but halfway through the process, you find that you don't like the picture too much. Maybe you get bored of the landscape, because all the pieces look exactly the same, like that field with all the purple flowers and grass. There's nothing particularly appealing about it except that there are so many pieces-- but then again, are there really? 250 is not a whole lot, and it doesn't seem worth putting together when it's all gonna look the same at the end. I've met people like this, too. They never seem to get beyond the flowers, the scenery is all the same, and there's no vibrancy. It most certainly isn't a fault; I mean, there are a lot of people out there that like that element of sameness and consistency; it's just not my cup of tea. Sadly, you lose interest and put it back in the box before you ever finish it. You hand the box to that little fairy in the closet to hold for you, and slowly shut the door. So you move on, in search of more puzzles.
The next major puzzle that follows is a 750-piece that you found at a second hand store. You make sure that you really like the picture, because these puzzles are almost guaranteed to have pieces missing. You peek in the box before buying it to make sure that there aren't too many pieces missing but, you never really stop to count how many there were because-- well-- the picture was beautiful and one-of-a-kind, and you'd probably never score this one again. Once you begin putting it together, you love it and admire it right at the start, still reeling off the luck you had in finding it. As you go along, you start to figure out which pieces are missing, and you do your best to ignore the fact that you skipped over that part of the picture to start on another part. You even think about buying extra cardboard and making the pieces yourself. You might have the box to rely on when copying that missing piece, and you can have the steadiest hand and the sharpest tools, but a part of you knows those pieces are not original, and you can't help but notice the imperfections of their artifice. We meet people all the time that are great, but you know that they're missing a few pieces. We can care for those people and try to help them fill in those gaps. Ultimately, we know that we don't have the power to fill in the pieces that the person him/herself cannot fill. Any effort on our part to cut and paste is only for show, and we know it. That puzzle will never be finished, it will never be complete; and as much as it hurts, you have to leave that puzzle behind-- so off it goes into the hands of the next fairy in the closet, and the search continues.
In the meantime, your closet seems to get a little crowded with all the puzzles you've abandoned, but you just can't seem to let go of them. They all have special meanings-- where you were when you found them, who might have given them to you, how easy/hard they were to find, etc. Yet none of these find their way into the frame you created with the dreams of your expectations, and none seem to blend well with the glass you chose to hold them against-- they all seem to have blurred when you held them up to the light, or faded with the passing of time. What then? Do you continue looking for the perfect puzzle, or are you content with having the collections held by the skeletons of the hopeful fairies in your closet?
I still hold out hope that the puzzle I left out on my table will find its completion. I've held on to many puzzles over the years, and I crudded up my closet with many loose pieces and broken sets, and all the completed ones that didn't hold their luster. I've thrown away all my old puzzles, because none will ever be THIS puzzle; this beautiful, eclectic image of which I only have fragments and landscapes. I've left this puzzle on my table, slowly building together the image as I find the pieces. This puzzle is the most challenging by far, because I don't know how many pieces it has, whether I will find them all, or if the image will last. I don't know any of these things, but my faith in the strength of my love for this image keeps me searching. In my haste, I've taken the incomplete puzzle and I've held it within my frame, and I've altered and colored in my frame to match that of the image. No parts of it have blurred or faded, even when I've held it in the most blazing sunlight. Nothing is more exciting or thrilling than finding the pieces as they come. Every piece that's gained is a step closer to my happiness.
One day, I will find all the remaining pieces, and I will finally have completed that puzzle-- and when I do, I will never stop appreciating the beauty and the light that image brings to me. That puzzle never see the darkness of the closet, and every fairy will be revived by the magical love that image will exude.
Love and Happiness to all, and I hope you find your perfect puzzle. :D
Some of them are only 25-piece puzzles, with simple pictures. The picture on the box is appealing and colorful , even opening the box is filled with giddy anticipation. Once the lid is off and you begin putting the pieces together, you find that it's just too easy. The flashy colors are still vibrant and the pretty picture is all intact, but there are only 25 pieces. There's no complexity, no challenge to bring that picture together. You can break it down and put it back together in an instant. I've met people that are like this. So beautiful and vibrant, but as hollow as a raccoon's knot in a tree. Getting to know them is already over, just when you thought it had only barely begun. Once you get bored of putting the same puzzle together repeatedly, you pack it up in the box, hand it to the fairy in the closet to hold for you, and you move on to bigger puzzles.
After going through a few puzzles, you find the next challenge-- the 250-piece portrait, the one you have visions of framing once you're done with it. Maybe you're not so much in love with the picture, but it's still a challenge nonetheless. The box is ripped open, you pour all the pieces out at once, but halfway through the process, you find that you don't like the picture too much. Maybe you get bored of the landscape, because all the pieces look exactly the same, like that field with all the purple flowers and grass. There's nothing particularly appealing about it except that there are so many pieces-- but then again, are there really? 250 is not a whole lot, and it doesn't seem worth putting together when it's all gonna look the same at the end. I've met people like this, too. They never seem to get beyond the flowers, the scenery is all the same, and there's no vibrancy. It most certainly isn't a fault; I mean, there are a lot of people out there that like that element of sameness and consistency; it's just not my cup of tea. Sadly, you lose interest and put it back in the box before you ever finish it. You hand the box to that little fairy in the closet to hold for you, and slowly shut the door. So you move on, in search of more puzzles.
The next major puzzle that follows is a 750-piece that you found at a second hand store. You make sure that you really like the picture, because these puzzles are almost guaranteed to have pieces missing. You peek in the box before buying it to make sure that there aren't too many pieces missing but, you never really stop to count how many there were because-- well-- the picture was beautiful and one-of-a-kind, and you'd probably never score this one again. Once you begin putting it together, you love it and admire it right at the start, still reeling off the luck you had in finding it. As you go along, you start to figure out which pieces are missing, and you do your best to ignore the fact that you skipped over that part of the picture to start on another part. You even think about buying extra cardboard and making the pieces yourself. You might have the box to rely on when copying that missing piece, and you can have the steadiest hand and the sharpest tools, but a part of you knows those pieces are not original, and you can't help but notice the imperfections of their artifice. We meet people all the time that are great, but you know that they're missing a few pieces. We can care for those people and try to help them fill in those gaps. Ultimately, we know that we don't have the power to fill in the pieces that the person him/herself cannot fill. Any effort on our part to cut and paste is only for show, and we know it. That puzzle will never be finished, it will never be complete; and as much as it hurts, you have to leave that puzzle behind-- so off it goes into the hands of the next fairy in the closet, and the search continues.
In the meantime, your closet seems to get a little crowded with all the puzzles you've abandoned, but you just can't seem to let go of them. They all have special meanings-- where you were when you found them, who might have given them to you, how easy/hard they were to find, etc. Yet none of these find their way into the frame you created with the dreams of your expectations, and none seem to blend well with the glass you chose to hold them against-- they all seem to have blurred when you held them up to the light, or faded with the passing of time. What then? Do you continue looking for the perfect puzzle, or are you content with having the collections held by the skeletons of the hopeful fairies in your closet?
I still hold out hope that the puzzle I left out on my table will find its completion. I've held on to many puzzles over the years, and I crudded up my closet with many loose pieces and broken sets, and all the completed ones that didn't hold their luster. I've thrown away all my old puzzles, because none will ever be THIS puzzle; this beautiful, eclectic image of which I only have fragments and landscapes. I've left this puzzle on my table, slowly building together the image as I find the pieces. This puzzle is the most challenging by far, because I don't know how many pieces it has, whether I will find them all, or if the image will last. I don't know any of these things, but my faith in the strength of my love for this image keeps me searching. In my haste, I've taken the incomplete puzzle and I've held it within my frame, and I've altered and colored in my frame to match that of the image. No parts of it have blurred or faded, even when I've held it in the most blazing sunlight. Nothing is more exciting or thrilling than finding the pieces as they come. Every piece that's gained is a step closer to my happiness.
One day, I will find all the remaining pieces, and I will finally have completed that puzzle-- and when I do, I will never stop appreciating the beauty and the light that image brings to me. That puzzle never see the darkness of the closet, and every fairy will be revived by the magical love that image will exude.
Love and Happiness to all, and I hope you find your perfect puzzle. :D
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