Jewish American Heritage Month

Posted By admin on March 29, 2022

Ive never really been an angry person per se. In general, Im more of a bottle-up-your-issues kind of a person (yes, Im working on it). I have an incredibly long fuse and its hard to make me truly angry. This applies even to those days when my child vomits on the carpet while Im running late to a Zoom meeting (during which I know my child will come in multiple times to tell me hes bored, because he somehow thinks its my job to entertain him 24/7), my car is in the shop, my living room looks like a tornado made of food crumbs just swept through, and Im scrambling to find substitute teachers for my Jewish Sunday program because I cant lead programming if my kid has potential COVID-19 symptoms (even if its the holiday programming Ive been working on tirelessly for a month).

It takes a lot of built-up aggressors before I finally explode into a fire-sign worthy inferno of rage and say exactly what Im thinking and then it quickly burns out and I am left feeling exhausted and embarrassed. Generally, this isnt directed at my child, but more likely toward a teacher who treated him unfairly, a kid who bullied him at school, or even a collaborative oversight at work that made my job as a full-time working single parent that much harder on any given week. Again, all the same, this has never been a significantly chronic emotion for me.

Lately, however, Ive found myself feeling angry not just once in a while, but almost all the time. Its not a raging hellfire that burns itself out, though; its a different kind of anger that seems to have spawned from living two plus years in a global pandemic, at the mercy of endless headlines on political insanity, a crumbling economy, and (more recently) the threat of another world war. This anger is like a smoldering lump of charcoal that Im always carrying with me, deep in my gut. Its not directed toward anyone in particular, and I can mask it by pushing it out of the forefront of my mind as I carry on day to day.

But the weight is always there, underneath everything else and every other emotion. Its a strange sensation that isnt torturous, but also makes me never feel like quite fully myself.

Often, society lists anger under the bad column of emotions. Sometimes, its even categorized as one of the roots of evil (drama!). But despite not being religious, I cant help but see anger through Judaisms perspective on the difficult feeling.

Mussar, an ancient Jewish movement of self-enlightenment, teaches that there are no good or bad feelings there are only feelings that are balanced or unbalanced. If you think of old-fashioned scales, the scales are balanced when each side bears an equal weight and they are an even height; if theres too much of something on one side (or conversely, not enough), then they are no longer in balance. Feelings are the same, and anger is no exception. On the contrary, anger is as important as more lauded values like patience, kindness and truth.

Anger, in the appropriate balance, translates to passionate indignation the kind of indignation that makes us want to march for reproductive rights, call our state senators over repressive anti-trans rights bills that collectively hurt our children, send money to Ukrainian AirBnB owners, organize meal trains for Afghan refugees and call out police violence against people of color. When theres an attack on a synagogue, you know that surge of rebellious pride for your Jewish identity that materializes from deep inside your chest? That sense of fuck-Nazis pride and solidarity stems from anger. On a smaller scale (because not every battle is a huge splashy headline), anger helps us advocate for our children in regard to their schools, pediatricians and even sometimes family members who lack boundaries.

We have been angry without a break for so long now. Weve been angry for so long that our anger itself is exhausted, having dimmed from a blaze to smoldering embers that keep us constantly uncomfortably warm. Our anger shares our sense of anguish and yet, its still there. While its not ideal to carry anger around for this long, its a sign of something important: It means that even through years of political, societal, public health and economic turmoil, we somehow, miraculously, still care. Because when the scale goes the opposite direction and you have too little anger, it doesnt lead to peacefulness it leads to apathy. At a certain point in the pandemic, I didnt think I had the capacity to care anymore. I felt like the part of me that could care was so burnt out that it was just ashes. Sitting with my anger, though, showed me that I still can care and I still do.

Even though its still there and I have no idea when it will leave, I feel better knowing that my anger is not my enemy, its not evil, and theres nothing wrong with my feeling that emotion. Its OK if youre angry, too. Be angry. Sit with it. Give yourself a break and rest when you can so your anger doesnt burn you out. Then channel your anger into making a difference in this world of injustices that infuriate you. Despite feeling powerless, anger is our gateway into the contrary: When we channel our anger against injustice, we change the world a little ember at a time.

Read more here:

It's Okay to Be Angry. Judaism Says So. Kveller - Kveller.com

Category: Judaism
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