being a sagittarius, i’ve never been a water girl. i barely even know how to swim.
but this year, something changed, something shifted, life delivered the cruelest of blows, and suddenly, everywhere i go, i’m drawn to water.
it’s a mystery, but one that makes me smile in weird ways at odd times. perhaps it’s the desire to float away from this pain i’m standing here holding, held in place by roots wrapped hard round my feet, refusing to budge until spring.
and i’ve been thinking a lot about anger.
the way we’re told, especially as women, that we’re not allowed to be angry, at life, at other people, at circumstances beyond our control. that we should be nice, accepting, nurturing, we should let it all go. that it’s our job to be happy every minute of every day.
i disagree.
there are times when anger is the only answer, when anger is deserved. when anger is the flame that keeps your light from going out.
i keep thinking back to the old “just smile and look pretty” maxim. the one so many of us were conditioned to follow as little girls and young women. the one we’re still held to as grown women, by those who want to fit us into those little, quiet, smiling boxes.
anger is a normal emotion. it’s part of life, part of living. it’s a catalyst for change. it’s a response to injustice, to intentional harm, to tiny daily abuses, to the constant squelching of basic human rights.
being told i shouldn’t be angry ends up being part of what makes me so angry.
one of my goals in life has long been to not grow bitter as I grow old. and it’s still one of my goals. but you know what? we have every right to be angry at intentional harm. i can be angry and see the beauty of a lone leaf clinging to a tree. i can be angry and cry at the beauty of a sunset. i can be angry and open my heart to all the world has to offer. i can still look out my window and smile at the titmouse cocking his head at me as he feeds.
we always want to see things in black and white, and we always think anger is red.
but i’m holding mine in a circle of blue, that place in a flame that holds the most oxygen.
one of these days, i’m going to use my anger to walk right through the fire that’s burning in my heart. and then i’m going to march right past all those rules til i reach the wide open shore, and cool my feet in the healing forgiveness of water.
perhaps that will cauterize my anger. crystallize it, temper it, transform it. but i shall always refuse to drown it.
you will hear me howl and the faint crackle of tough skin.
when that happens, i hope some part of you will smile.
