I’ll admit to a sense of trepidation releasing this poem. I am proud of it, but more in the sense of its creation, and not because it is true of me. A much more personal work, but I hope you or someone you know may find it helpful.
Ploughshare
The first fist made by Cain
Was made again by me today;
For I am a son of Adam!
Crouched in unlit corners of my mind
I clench my hands I rage and whine
But there may yet be beasts deeper.
While brutal thoughts flash through my brain,
I grit my teeth with guilty shame
And hold fast against these urges.
While praying for excuse to fight
To let off steam into the night
The demon on my shoulder leaves me.
So do not count me with the men
who won’t admit it may strike them
Sometimes to do violence -
Yet also do not cast my lot
With those who are more like than not
To be quick— jump first to anger.
I’ll bring this all before the Lord;
Now offer ploughshare ‘stead of sword.
Thankful for forgiveness.
- N.C-J
I struggle with anger.
Now, I do have a leash and a muzzle on it and it is deep in a cage; I feel in control. But, in the effort I am undertaking to be more comfortable with feeling safe to try and truly *express my emotions* like sadness or pain, anger is a byproduct, so it also needs to be addressed. It is much more intimidating to deal with than sadness, for me at least. Anger may be a beast1 that strains against it’s lead, or one that has been slowly cowed for so long that it lies with bitter patience to come out only when our defences are down.
A fearsome dog that must be muzzled and pulls on its chain to bite is not a ‘well’ dog. It has been mistreated and is distrustful. On the other hand, a dog that has strong jaws with sharp teeth but is trained to be able to listen, in sole focus to the instructions of it’s master is where I’d like to be with Anger. But we can’t get there without training, work, practice, and a genuine care and desire. Many of us have our own emotions - and in particular anger - chained up like feral, hungry, lonely animals in the dark.
So, that’s what this poem is: me taking anger seriously. Pulling myself up straight, and no longer letting this Anger-Beast pull my lead and watch my blood begin to boil. I shall lock eyes and call him by his name. I will descend to look by torchlight at what flaps and wriggles in the unnamed and unlit caves below the Frontier Foothills. I will hear what it is that moves the beast to strike so I can address those things with confidence. Because likely, Anger is just a dog that needs a to be re-homed; to find a loving master who does not lock it in the dark.
What Does Anger Mean For Us
A brief anecdote on the beginnings of my learning about my own expressions of anger.
My wife has been instrumental in the preparatory work which allowed for the setting out on this journey to the Inner Frontier. She could tell, years ago, that I was all twisted up inside (how mysterious and intriguing) and she let me know it was ok to be honest with her about the depth of my feeling. That I could express myself honestly and she would respect what I revealed. So I started to, and it was good, at first. It was nice and romantic when I would say sweet things about the depth of feelings for how much I loved her, or when I would say how existentially scared I was when my grandmother was losing her mind. But when the decidedly not-fun emotions called their turn to be expressed it got more intense. Admitting for the first time (even to myself) that the argument we were having made me want to put my head through the bathroom door was not a romantic revelation for either of us. But it was true in that moment, and I think about that moment a lot. Why was I so upset? Why was that my reaction and desire to being upset? Was the reason I was upset wrong, or was the reaction wrong? Regardless of the reasons, men’s expression of anger is intimidating. But not being upfront about doesn’t help us deal with it. If think about it, we can talk about it. Can we talk about it?
It seems clear to me that emotions are tied to our physical expression. Sadness twists us and hurts our heart - makes us want to curl up. Fear turns our stomach into knots - makes us want to run. Happiness lifts our faces - makes us jump and yell for joy. Anger… well, we don’t want to talk about anger. What it makes us do, or want to do. Physical expression of anger is difficult, and if we do not take it seriously the wound will begin to stink.
If we do not deal with anger it will manifest as physical, emotional/verbal, or psychological violence towards either:
Ourselves (if we have decent outward-facing self control)
Others (if we have bad self control)
So, it’s a serious topic with real consequences. You may end up struggling with self-loathing, or with regulating hateful reactions towards others.
Thoughts of intense anger are so shameful to most of us that we will do anything to pretend they aren’t true - that they aren’t real. Often this happens when our anger is out of proportion with the trigger2 that sets us off. Maybe the trigger is a new baby who isn’t sleeping and I berate my spouse. There’s traffic going in to work making me late for a meeting and I lace the inside of my windscreen with profanity and pull my hair. Perhaps I disappoint a friend and I experience a flash of desire to punch a brick wall, with no regard towards hurting myself (or indeed perhaps for the purpose of). These of course are not proportional responses!
Then may come the shame with such a realization, and we don’t want to admit it to our spouse or friends, and so we mask the anger with numbing agents. Substances, porn, losing ourselves to smartphones/videogames, being chronically online/isolating ourselves, and so on. Ignoring and repressing the issue for future you to deal with with the beast breaks from the rusty cage.
Recognize such moments in your own life that may be disproportionate. It could be moments even less that those I mentioned from my own life. They could be entirely in your head. Not off the hook. Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount comments on anger in Matthew 5:21-25. Indeed he also says if we lust after someone we “have already committed adultery in our hearts”; I say then that even if there is no outward expression of it, the anger that lingers in our hearts must be addressed.
Repressing ones anger is not sufficiently addressing it. ‘Simply’ locking away where it becomes feral. Addressed anger means to acknowledge the anger; as a start. I must acknowledge the beast below. I must become the master of what lurks in these caves. How? I’m still working on it, so I think I’ll save that for another poem and post. Suffice it for now to say in large part we must turn oft to forgiveness, turn swords to ploughshares, and turn to find life anew from own Master.
I’m always interested in your thoughts on my work - critical, poetical, philosophical, personal. Let me know what you think.
In my mind, reptilian. A large, strong, crocodile-man on it’s hind legs that has wicked intelligence and a fearsome belly.
A great point on triggers: It’s usually not the trigger we need to worry about - it’s the explosives. If you pull a trigger and there’s no ammo, nothing happens. So the trigger can be interesting to talk about, but the thing we need to deal with is the explosive charges in our hearts that are waiting for a spark.
Yeah, it's a tricky thing, emotions. And you're right about repression; never the way to go. That which we exile will always come back seeking revenge.
It's my personal opinion that God doesn't expect us to be calm all the time. I think rather that we have a responsibility to understand ourselves, acknowledge the dusty rooms we pretend aren't there and by letting in the sunlight every now and again, we can then keep the whole house in order. The calmness, then, comes from bottom-up understanding and self-maintenance, not a top-down mandate we try to impose.
Thanks for this Nick, a good exploration of something I also struggle with. Part of where I'm at now is realising my own hypocrisy in being able to contain my anger during social occasions but unleashing it on those closer to me when we're in private. Which means I do have the ability to control my anger, I just pick and choose when I do. Convicting yet ultimately freeing, because there is a path ahead with the help of God.