Laura Anderson

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On Gratitude and Anger

There was a period of time during some heavy deconstruction phases and trauma resolution and recovery that gratitude was very difficult to come by. It felt fake, exhausting, and in some moments, the rage that replaced gratitude not only felt more authentic, it felt necessary. On top of that, the idea of gratitude felt like a mix of my old religious traditions and newer spiritual and psychological practices of gratitude journaling and positive thinking. 

I had grown up my entire life believing that I was supposed to be joyful in the Lord, have a grateful heart, and ultimately to ‘store up my treasures in heaven’ which often translated to a lot of spiritual bypassing so that suffering and hardship could be explained as God refining me and making me more like him. After leaving organized religion I explored various spiritual practices and found myself living in fear a lot–if I had less than grateful thoughts my vibration would decrease and I would not attract the things to me that I was really wanting. Being anything but gracious for what was happening in my life would invite difficulties and suffering, but this time it was just me who had caused it because I was stuck in old mindsets and limiting beliefs–not my sin nature, as I had been taught before. 

After a few years I recognized I was just trading one form of fundamentalism for another. That is, I was looking for THE answers, THE rules and lifestyles to follow, THE practices to engage in so that life would make sense and be ok. But it was exhausting and I couldn’t do it any longer. So I gave myself permission to stop and challenged myself instead to be honest–knowing that this truth often was truly the salve to deep wounds that needed to be aired out. 

In some ways, the permission I granted myself made life so much easier. Not having to deny or suppress what was happening internally felt like a giant weight had been lifted off my shoulders. It felt nice to not have to pretend that things were ok, that I could see the lesson in everything, and that growth was appealing. In other ways, the permission I granted myself made life so much harder. The thing about being honest–like brutally honest…as a practice–means that you have to face really difficult stuff and you can’t un-see it once you let the cat out of the bag. Being honest meant I actually had to deal with it. 

There is a definition of denial I share with my clients: “denial is a defense mechanism we use to keep us from seeing things as they truly are, because if we did see them as they truly are, they would feel consciously intolerable.” We deny things not because we want to live a lie, but because deep down we know that if we were to really see them, that would mean things would have to change. We all do this; sometimes it is the thing that keeps us surviving really difficult situations. 

However, when the moment comes where it is safe enough to begin seeing things for how they truly are, anger is just one step away. Because that new reality–seeing that things were not as we were told or sold means that we missed out on a lot. For many of us it means we were harmed and abused. It often means that the people we thought were safe or for us really had other agendas in mind that involved a lot of manipulation, coercion, and their agenda over what was best for us. It can mean that everything we thought was real and true is not. Everything we were taught, everything we thought, and the way we navigated throughout the world was a lie, or not entirely true, or based on someone else’s need to have power and control others. And that brings about a lot of anger. 

As it should. 

Anger is the emotion that we feel when something important to us has been violated. It helps us know that something is wrong; that what happened to us was not ok. Anger is what motivates us to change, to move; anger inspires us toward what we are most passionate about. 

Being accurate and honest about our anger means that we have to deal with really tough stuff. And in that it means that pretending that everything is ok, fearing that if we feel anger our vibration will lower and bad things will come to us, ignoring what happened, or trying to find the silver lining or lesson in every situation doesn’t mean the anger will go away. In fact, it almost always makes the anger grow. 

You see, many people are afraid of anger because they have witnessed others’ anger bring about destructive results. Or they have heard teachings about how anger can be sinful. Or perhaps they are afraid of anger because of how their anger has presented externally  in the past. What I would submit, however, is that this is the expression of anger, not the emotion of anger. 

Like I said above: 

Anger is the emotion that we feel when something important to us has been violated. It helps us know that something is wrong; that what happened to us was not ok. Anger is what motivates us to change, to move; anger inspires us toward what we are most passionate about. 

What happens when we actually allow ourselves to feel anger, to express it in a safe way, to let it move thorough our bodies is that it clears space for other things. Sometimes it motivates us toward a cause or a value. Other times it allows for productive conversations, relationships to be redefined, and honor to be restored to yourself and others. And dare I say, that when anger is felt, there is also space for the goodness of life–including being able to create space for gratitude. Not the “I’m grateful I went through this really hard stuff because look how much stronger it’s made me” stuff (that’s usually spiritually bypassing!) but grateful in the sense that we can hold in balance the reality of how bad something really was with the recognition that we are no longer in it, that our eyes have been open to see other things, that we have grown and changed. We don’t elevate one at the expense of the other. And yet the gratitude exists because we can be accurate and honest about the anger. 

One of my very favorite paragraphs from my soon-ish to be published books is this: 

I don’t think things happen to us for a reason. I don’t think there is some all-knowing force that makes things happen in our lives so that we can learn a lesson and pass on that knowledge on to others. I don’t think I had to go through what I did in order to get this book into your hands today. In fact, I think there were many other ways I could have learned those lessons—and I think they could have been learned without excruciating pain. Yet I cannot deny that somehow my experiences also turned me into who I am and resulted in this book being in your hands today. Multiple things can be true at the same time.

For  me, this is how I experience anger and gratitude together. This, for me, is resilience and I am very, very grateful for that. 

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