I’ve been surrounded by a lot of angry humans recently.
People tearing down other people, people having full-on rants (online and IRL),
not to mention celebrities trading insults publicly. And briefly a few weeks ago, I
was one of them (an angry person, I mean, not a celebrity).
For two days recently, general
annoyances compounded to make my blood boil. These included (but are not limited to): people not
recycling; people stopping walking in the street right in front of me; people playing loud music on the bus; people trolling Victoria Beckham for kissing her
daughter on the lips (I can’t even).
By nature, I’m not an angry
person. I’m fairly good at processing my emotions then letting them go. So when
I find myself becoming furious about the way other people are behaving – which, unless it’s directed at me, is actually none of my business – it’s a sign there’s something going on within
myself that I need to address. Because anger, I think, is a bit like Instagram followers –
the more of it you have, the more you’ll attract.
Recently I found myself nodding along as
I read an article in Stylist magazine
which said that, as a society, our displays of frustration are becoming more frequent.
It quoted a UK study which found that 71 per cent of internet users have
exploded over computer problems; 50 per cent of shoppers have blown up over
parking and 45 per cent of us regularly lose our temper at work.
The story gave some reasons we’re – to
use a classy Aussie expression – getting the shits, regularly. With long
commutes, the relentless lure of the internet and greater work demands, we’ve
got very little time to ourselves. So when something threatens that precious time – a traffic jam, a printer error, for example – we become
panicked and we lose it. According to a study, 40 per cent of us will abandon a web page that takes more than three
seconds to load. Three seconds!
As well as being fuelled by everyday
annoyances, my anger was also directed at people who were doing things
I didn’t approve of…. because, you know, I totally have the right to sign off
on other people’s life choices (lol). When I became incensed at seeing a total
stranger posting pictures of a 10-day juice cleanse, I realised my anger was
completely irrational. Personally, I would never do a juice cleanse because I
believe our livers are perfectly capable of getting rid of toxins, so depriving ourselves of the food our bodies needs to thrive just doesn’t make
sense… to ME. But what other people do with their bodies is actually none of my
business. So why, then, would I get angry about this woman’s choices? Oh, that
would be the work of my inner control freak.
In my 20s (*gulp*), I had a tendency to
try to force onto other people my political views, my exercise regimen, even my
particular spiritual philosophies of the day... and responding with barely
concealed contempt when they didn’t oblige. This did not, as you can imagine,
make me good company at dinner parties. I remember one friend confessing she
was sometimes scared to express an opinion she knew I didn’t share, for fear of
setting me off on one of my shouty diatribes. *cringe*
Here’s the thing about anger: it’s a
mask for deeper feelings. That’s why psychologists call it a secondary emotion.
Beneath it is usually fear – of being inadequate, being rejected or being
deprived of something (love or respect, for example). But instead of comforting
and reassuring the scared child within, the angry old man in us takes over.
Because shouting and launching verbal attacks seems to offer immediate relief,
or at least release. But any relief is short-lived. The painful emotion lingers.
We live in a world in which we have no
ability to predict or control what might be thrown at us (although we
always have agency over the way we respond). We are all scared. While talking about
Islamophobia recently, The Project presenter Waleed Aly made some incredibly
insightful comments about human behaviour: “When we are presented with what we perceive as an outrageous opinion,
we can consider what motivated that person, try to understand their fear, and
empathise with how they came to their conclusion. The truth is, what motivates
them is fear. And fear is one thing we all share.” He wasn’t talking about anger, necessarily, but the sentiment is the same.
My anger was motivated by fear. I
wanted others to be on board with my viewpoints to make me feel assured that I was
‘right’ – others having a differing perspective to mine felt like a threat. I
had realised I was different and did not fit in with the crowd. I suppose I was
frantically looking for assurance and a sense of belonging.
When I started to engage in a process
of personal development (yep, still going with that one!), I started to feel
more confident about my place in the world and less inclined to seek validation
from other people. I’m at peace with the ‘not knowingness’ that is a part and parcel of being an adult. I have realised that I do not need
other people on my side – and that, in fact, there are no sides. I’m more at
peace with the idea that I can cope with the beautiful confusion that we call life, instead of becoming increasingly
panicked that I am not good enough, am in danger of being overwhelmed or
missing out on something. In other words, in learning to respect myself for my
differences, I learned to respect other people for theirs.
These are the lessons I need to return
to whenever I find myself getting angry at people for simply being people who are not me.
This does not excuse shitty behaviour by people directed to me, obviously. But
when it comes to everyday annoyances or people making decisions that have
nothing to do with me, it’s about returning my focus to the things that *are*
within my control: namely, my own choices.
If anyone needs me, I’ll be over here
cleaning up my own backyard.