I get angry. I lash out. I make it worse. Who benefits? Certainly not my peace of mind. Nor did I make the target of my explosions, day. So why didn’t I just let it go? What is “it”? You ask? Well, that’s good solid question. Too bad I don’t have a resounding reasonable answer. If I knew what “It” was, I would have just sat myself down and intoxicated my mind with soothing and uplifting words. Rarely when I get angry do I know the source of the heat or who lit the fire, although in reality if I’m angry about what someone did, or said, the true source always lies inside me. This makes thrashing the culprit a bit more difficult to find and then deal with. For a long time, taking it out on the closest person to me may have been the wrong decision in the long run, but it was something I was taught to do. And at times when I let “it” go for too long, the explosion was so immense it sucked in those who could only wobble like weebles wondering “What the hell just happened?”.
And then one day I decided that is not how I wanted to live. I didn’t want other people’s beliefs or lives to influence my own behavior, moods and most importantly, happiness. My parents’ marriage was nothing like mine, and yet, I punished my husband for all the wrong doings of my father. I refused to show any weaknesses that I was brainwashed to believe that love caused. Thus, out of a chaotic childhood, my sharp tongue and explosive temper was forged.
It took just one day to decide? You ask. Yes. The day I completely flipped out on my young kids and at ten o’ clock at night, when they were supposed to be calm and going to sleep. I’d always prided myself on protecting my kids from the caustic crazy world and here I was going on about their unkempt room. I brought crazy and caustic into their home; a place they were supposed to feel safe and comfortable.
No other people could have made me take an emotional step back. It was only when I saw my damage reflected back at me on the sweet faces of my babies that I realized I had to fix what was broken inside me. I cried. I asked for forgiveness. They are my saviors.
Again what was “it’? There were too many incidents from my past that I could acknowledge and yet there’d be no illuminating affect. I could talk about every one of my battles and I would be no less the warrior. In fact, bringing those battles into the present irrationally justified my aggressive behavior….
So I took steps to try and let everything go and keep the past firmly behind me where it belonged. Not an easy task. I always heard about this peace you feel when you finally achieve full forward momentum, but never felt it. The best I could do was lock myself away when I felt threatened or vulnerable knowing that a misplaced word or look would set me off.
And then this happened.
One winter afternoon, after a pretty snow storm, while driving my AWD SUV , my car slid like ice on ice. I panicked, but tried gingerly stepping on the break. Nothing. I wiggled the steering wheel. Nothing. I was going to T-bone a parked green, two door sedan and there was nothing I could do. About, five feet from the collision I stopped thinking and a securing calm (a feeling of pure instinct and trust) overcame my senses. I took my hands off the wheel and lay my palms on my lap and at the same time, took my foot away from the pedals and waited.
About a foot away, my car turned at a ninety-degree angle, to the right and just as it cleared the front of the car, made another and sharp turn and hit a wall of packed snow just inches behind the green car’s bumper.
I finally experienced what all those books and spiritual lecturers preached. I simply stopped fighting what I could not change and just let go.
I’m still practicing letting go and though it’s easier when I’m not being challenged, it’s becoming less difficult when I am conflicted. I’ve taken many steps since my first and I know there are many more in my future. I am okay with that. It simply is.
Mel Evers wonders about it all 