SUPPER

Most kids get sent to their room with no supper when they misbehave.  I was the opposite.  The overly sensitive middle child of five, I could inprison myself, running to my room (shared with at least 2 other sisters at any given time) in tears.  The exact reverse.  I’ll punish my family.  They’ll feel so bad that they’ve hurt my feelings and made me cry.  And now they’ll  really feel sorry for me when I’m in my room with no supper.  YEAH.  WHEN PIGS FLY.  Let’s see, 7 humans crowded around a tiny kitchen table – one less and more food for everyone! Who cares? Who even noticed?

Those are my earliest memories of my anger.  I was a bit older before my hurt and frustration came as anything other than Tears.  Around 10 years old I maybe had some screaming matches with my sisters.  The three of us so tightly sewn into each other’s spaces – inevitable.

By high school I had abandoned even that outlet.  Avoidance was my tactic.  And in my entire life I never let fly ANY form of the loud uglies at my mom…So it was my dear friend, Betsy Goodloe who became my target (and only one time, as I remember  it).  Betsy was known for her moderation.  In fact, she was extremely moderate about everything. The normal seething teenage anger about life in general that I was managing to tap down was no match for Ms Goodloe.  Her moderation was a Provocation.  We were slumber partying at Carolla Rodriguez’s luxurious mid century sprawling house. We were seniors in high school so alcohol was involved. I have trouble managing my emotions on cough medicine. You may as well have filled me with dynamite and lit a fuse.  To say I exploded is very accurate.  She took it even better than any ‘moderate’ would. Stoic. She listened. It never affected our friendship that I know but I was left owning the carnage and a new truth about myself.

My rages went dormant for another decade. This time it was my sweet precious 2 yr old daughter, Junie that unleashed the angry lion. I could be super warm and fuzzy for 9 times in a row but if it didn’t produce my desired behavior a demon took over my tongue. Let’s not relive that. Just reporting a regrettable truth.

The only other creature that I felt safe enough to share my secret and explosive energy with has been Steve, my soulmate and husband. Lucky him…Who else would stand by while I wagged my righteous finger in his face.  Sometimes I’m certain I know EVERYTHING. And I’m obliged to share it. Until one day I ‘outed’ myself.

I was studying with Gary Zukav, the author of SEAT OF THE SOUL (that should tell you what nature of knowledge he was imparting). Gary said that anger is fear.  That seemed absolutely and simply very accurate. Now I found myself in the kitchen, finger wagging, tongue sharp and loaded for bear when a little voice reminded me Gary says anger is fear. Go away. But it wouldn’t. Once more.  Anger is fear. I said, Beat it. I’m busy here. Gary is a ‘mind pest’. He wouldn’t scram. I gave in. With my first act of conscious courage I stopped. I said to Steve, Gary says anger is fear. I have to find out what I’m afraid of right now. I felt deep inside. My constant companion surfaced. I’m not lovable. He knows it. I’m fighting and getting angry to distract Steve from noticing. I don’t remember what words I found to express my fear but something did come out. It was the beginning of a much more kind and loving relationship with myself (and Steve!).

I wish I could honestly report that my strong defenses have never surfaced since that day. They do. But within moments, minutes or hours I hear the voice, Anger is fear. It helps. I back down. It’s lonely in my bedroom all alone with no supper. It’s nice to know how to liberate myself and return to my family table.