What a fabulous explanation! There are so many layers to emotions and so often one emotion is merely a cover for another one. I love the way you express allowing “awareness to bubble up through the layers of defenses.” And, I agree that lingering and “frothing” anger is usually an indication that there is something larger and deeper that needs attention.

Thank you.

Deb

I like to cite Elizabeth Kubler-Ross’s rule of thumb: anger is a perfectly natural emotion; it lasts fifteen seconds before it passes. If it lasts longer than fifteen seconds, then I am dealing with “unfinished business,” an event of the present time that reminds me of unprocessed, unconscious injuries from the past (probably from childhood).

Therefore, if I am angry for longer than 15 seconds, my “unfinished business” button has been triggered. Then, it is my responsibility to halt any “acting out,” and allow awareness to bubble up through the layers of defenses.

Kubler-Ross’s rule has served me well in my partnership with my husband. One night a few years ago, when I was absolutely furious at him, I was determined to refrain from yelling and fussing. In other words, I was determined not to allow myself the defense of rage. Rage is a mask for grief: a sticky, tricky mask. It was very hard for me to sacrifice rage, which gives me such a false sense of power.

Without the defense of rage, I collapsed. Literally. I fell into a heap of weeping, right on the living room floor. I was overwhelmed, howling like an animal. It was as if my ribcage was torn in two. The grief lasted about 15 minutes. After it passed, I felt peace — a deep sense of tranquility.

During the anguish of the grieving, I connected the dots: my husband’s innocent lapse in judgement reminded me of a primal wound from childhood. It wasn’t Adult Toni who had been furious, it was Little Toni.

It was a wound I had always remembered, but its memory was purely an intellectual excercise. I had never expressed the grief of that memory because I had never been in touch with it. The crucible of relationship brought it to the surface to be healed.

Had I allowed myself the indulgence of rage, its masking power would not have allowed me to see, and I would have remained unaware of how much that wound from childhood hurt me. Furthermore, I would have been abusive towards my beloved husband by raging at him.

If the anger passes quickly, then someone has stepped on my toes and I might or might not bark — no big deal. If the anger grows and froths and lingers, then someone is pushing my button and triggering an unhealed memory, and it’s best to pay attention.

When I was a child, I was unable to grieve the wound because I had to survive the situation. As an adult, I must grieve it, if I am to be whole, compassionate and empathetic. Being aware of the difference between natural anger and unfinished business has helped me a great deal.

I am not a mother, like you are. But it seems to me that children have an innate talent for finding buttons in their parents. In fact, pushing buttons seems to be their divinely appointed role!

Best,

Toni