ramble on anger and insight

it is a unique experience to be treasured. i cannot say it is something i have ever enjoyed in life. ever known. i suppose that could be a sad statement, except i am so content in this moment, that saying it isn’t at all heavy.


my head is full of thoughts. i’m not sure which to let escape just yet… so much of the writing process is extemporaneous that i am almost unable to determine between ‘this thought’ or ‘that thought’, rather, whatever surfaces and trips down the fingers is what winds up on the page.

i’m not sure i’m willing to have the discipline to do differently. in many ways, i think the way this process happens is one of the reasons that, no matter what shows up here, it is ‘real’… insofar as it is an accurate reflection of the moment.

i think about that in the context of the many things i’ve written over the years… not just here, of course… emails. chats. private messages. it’s all the same, really… thoughts of the moment splashing on the page. sometimes kindly, sometimes much less than so.

not very much at all mindful of more than being in the moment and communicating fully what existed in it. on the one hand, i cannot help but feel that is the most blunt honesty one could ever hope to be capable of… and on the other, i think about some of the things i’ve said to others over the years… at times, very hard words, indeed.

i’m rambling. pushing back at thoughts i’d prefer to stew a bit more and so, off on a tangent hoping to have them sink slowly and soak up a bit more before rising again… (chuckle)

in this moment, thinking of hard words, i don’t think they were so hard… even as many often call them such. are hard words given from care truly hard?

the analogy i used the other day was a mother protecting a child from an attacker. sure, the mother angers and deals harshly… but is it an anger she feels and a self-cherishing from which she acts? of course not. it is an interest in the child, a determination not to see it injured, and a devotion to setting the attacker away that sets her anger burning.

i suppose it is easy enough to assume any number of things. not having any knowledge otherwise, it would be easy enough to assume all anger is self-cherishing. certainly that any anger you find is so… but that seems oddly like the projection of that same self-cherishing, does it not?

you are angry at me, therefore you must have ego or pride in relation to interaction with me, else why would you anger at all?

i’ve thought about that. i find it inaccurate to the point of delusion. assumption is never helpful.

of course, i’ve done it myself. a number of times. but i can feel the difference between that self-cherishing anger and the kind of anger that has driven most, if not all my harsh words.

self-cherishing anger is that haughty, offended, ‘how could you?’ feeling.

pure anger is more, ‘this cannot be permitted, it will injure (another).’

i think the difference between the two is also obvious in how long it takes one to forget it and let it go.

self-cherishing anger never really fades, because any remembrance whatever is fuel to its fire. fuel to the ego that is aching for it.

pure anger leaves once the danger is past.

i’m sitting here, now, thinking about these two and comparing/contrasting them in various scenarios of life, checking for consistency, challenging… heh. oh boy, i challenge everything. sometimes, i don’t think that’s such a good thing… but if it keeps one from assuming, perhaps it is so.

interestingly, though i often speak from that self-cherishing anger, i very rarely write from it. in looking back, even over the past year, the vast majority of things said to others has very directly been of pure anger. a deep desire to see a pattern that is known (known! oh my. yes. actually. i can say it. it is true.) to be injurous to another.

oh, that reads so arrogant. but i swear, it is not. i cannot always explain how or why i know when i do know. but when i do know, it is not that intellectual ‘knowing’… it is a deep, ground, rock solid, ‘how the heck do i know this?’ knowing. hard to describe. impossible, i think.

but no less true for it.

there is so little in life i can say i know. really. but there are times when i have these flashes of insight, particular with regard to others, with regard to people.

it’s bloody annoying, really. i don’t WANT to see those things. hell, my life would be so much easier and less complicated if i didn’t. people detest me for the things i see. sometimes, they fear me. sometimes they anger at me. almost always, they deny. shoot, most deny and then, immediately turn and do the very darn thing i told them i saw. odd, really.

storing this for now. will write more later. break time is done. heh. back to the day.

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