Next time I am accused of being angry, I will savour the moment, for anger is an indicator of injustice— an internal barometer informing me that my personal ethics have been violated. Instead of fighting anger or denying it, I will relish in its glory exploring its bitter sweet taste in my mouth. I will Investigate where it resides within my body—do I feel it on my scalp? In my stomach? Does it make my fingers tingle? I will pay attention to how it affects my thinking, whether my mind sharpens or slows down. In the afterglow of anger do I sleep soundly, or am I disturbed by powerful dreams?
Tag: Feminist
My oh My! Things certainly have gotten complicated.
It was not unusual for my group of moms to sit on the wooden curb that ran along the parameter of the playground at our children’s elementary school on warm spring afternoons. It was on such a day that my friend Wendy, with whom I shared an affection for books, arrived and said, “Nerida,…