This week really pissed me off.
I wanted to luxuriate in the unseasonably warm weather, to meander through well-manicured gardens focused exclusively on the majestic beauty that nature can so effortlessly create. And while I did indeed stop to smell the many flowers that line these city sidewalks, I also ran screaming down those same sidewalks to catch a small person on a scooter intent on exploring the limits of his personal freedom.
It’s true that childhood is a magical time of growth, play and boundless imagination, and that spending time with children will open your heart to the unconditional love that always surrounds us. It’s also true that childhood is filled with regular physical injuries, forced activities and necessary restraint, and that children will kick you, bite you and scream in your face.
To forget this truth is do ourselves a tremendous disservice. If we relax into an overly romantic version of what our tender years entail, we miss out on enjoying the experience for what it is. Because there is room for pain in growth; there is room for obligation in play; there is room for restraint in imagination. The fabric of life is love, and love makes room for everything. So if we insist on always being the calm, collected and compassionate bigger person who floats through the day on an untouchable cloud, we aren’t making room for the fullness of who we are.
And in this funny way, life feels easier when we take off the rose-colored glasses. If what we’re really doing here is just having an experience, then we can stop arguing with the experience and start appreciating it. So we don’t have to try to make the poop smell like roses. We can recognize it for what it is, and we can thank it for being the fertilizer that flowers need to grow.
This message comes to (through?) me just as we approach the First Quarter Moon in Leo. The First Quarter is the point when the Moon shifts from mostly dark to mostly bright, and it is very much a time when things step into the light. This particular 1Q Moon also comes to us from Leo, a sign famous for its love of the spotlight and endowed with a penchant for performance. So it’s the perfect recipe for a proud pronouncement of emotional existence, a chance to reveal the cards you’ve been holding with a particularly expressive face.
My face, it turns out, is angry. Perhaps cosmically (comically?) so, because I now more fully appreciate that last weekend’s New Moon in Taurus was an excellent launchpad for fervent frustration. What showed up for me under its auspices - the blessing of beauty - is very much still here. But also baked inside that same piece of comfort cake is an extra spicy handful of not-so-hidden rage from the New Moon’s tense t-square with Mars and Pluto.
The New Moon sets the tone for the lunar month, and I was so ready for relief that I was overly eager to downgrade the t-square to a tropical storm. And while it’s true that the t-square’s energetic peak had passed by the time the New Moon graced our skies,1 the winds of ire were very much still blowing. So I now come back to the same steadfast Taurus values I knew would serve me this month - consideration, patience, faithfulness - and I add in a healthy dose of awareness that there is room for anger in all of these.
Today’s First Quarter Moon marks a great time to work on your own angry face, and I encourage you to (safely) put your rage on display when it arises. As for me, I got an unexpected nudge on the sidewalk to practice this when I heard a little voice in my head say: “Let your son see you angry.” While scowls are not my usual go-to for strolling around the neighborhood, the instruction was so clear that I held an unquestioning frown for a solid quarter of an hour.
And as I did, I began to understand why. Anger shows when a boundary has been crossed, and part of my role as a parent is to set boundaries that keep my children safe. Finding a way to be angry without issuing threats or engaging in violence also makes anger safe for my children (and me) to be around. I am learning that I can successfully manage my anger without trying to manage it out of existence, and I can accept that getting angry is not a failure. Because some things are just not okay. It’s valuable to get angry when they happen, and it’s wonderfully human.
You can also trust that if you are willing to make room for anger, the beauty of life will shine through. I say this with certainty because I experienced it firsthand on that very same fateful sidewalk. With my scowl intact, I ran into a friend and former client who was thoroughly surprised to see me in such a foul state. I told her why I was pissed off, and I told her about the little voice that had instructed me to look angry. I told her I knew it was good for my son to see me angry, and she told me it was good for her, too.
I’m so happy I got to rip that zen halo off my head, and I’m even happier that my angry face helped put someone else’s at ease. And perhaps most of all, I’m happy to be human. ❤️
Love,
Patrick
PS: If you enjoyed reading this, it would help me so much if you could like it, write a comment, repost it or share it with a friend. My words for this year are Enriching Community, and it warms my heart to know you’re here with me. ❤️
This is the difference between “applying” aspects - those yet to occur - and “separating” aspects that have already “perfected.”
I like the new perspective on anger, and your scrunchy face! Roaring and growling is good. . . Showing teeth and claws also good! I often connect anger to frustration—that people or the world aren't showing up as I want, or I can't do as I want, or more deeply, that we're perceiving a split between us and the "outside world" and have given the power over to that separate reality. And it's against us! And dammit, that's not the way we know it actually is in the spiritual realm, and it doesn't compute. More frustration. And along with that, fear (even subliminal terror) that we've lost our connection and are not safe. Perhaps this is why why anger is ofter a cover for grief, panic, and fear. Getting out of anger then is a matter of including all frequencies or possible experiences in one's sphere, and allowing. By allowing even "bad" experiences, we allow ourselves to know what to do physically, and/or mentally, to return to oneness and harmony, to the feeling of the Flow working with and for all involved, instead of anticipating the worst.
I love how much you're teaching your kids that all emotions are important, and that you have the full range of these feelings. They will likely be very emotionally intelligent adults as a result of these lessons.