I experienced anger recently. Not the kind of anger that feels energizing, the kind that feels de-stabilizing. It was a full flush over my body, posture rigid with fists clenched, and my blood starting to boil.
It was awful. And, it was powerful.
I’ve been working at this long enough that I could (thankfully) recognize my opportunity. I could crash forward, and with that much energy behind me, it would be a spectacular crash.
Or, I could let it roll through me and wait.
The former was the more attractive because I knew it would feel good to get rid of that energy quickly. But, I chose the latter.
I made a conscious choice to breathe as deeply as I could. I let myself be rigid, I let my fists be clenched, and I let my blood be hot. I let my body do what it needed to do while this emotion had us in its grip. I used to be terrified of this, that I would be taken over by anger, that I would be unrecognizable in my rage. Turns out, it’s just a feeling like all the others. It passed.
I kept up my conscious, deep breathing. I took a Bach Rescue Remedy pastille (they are amazing). And, I paid attention to what was going through my head.
My Human Design journey has been about making peace with the openness in my chart. My open centers are where I’m here to gain wisdom in this life: to curate what I think about, to recognize my own value, and to stand in my own truth. All three of those were hijacked when my boundary was violated.
Anger can be a terrific clue to our boundaries. If we can sit with it, listen to it, we can learn about ourselves. About what we value, and what we need. Unfortunately, no matter how much you try to communicate, sometimes those people are never going to give you what you need.
So, then what do you do?
You listen to the stories you’re telling yourself. What is the theme? That you’re giving so much without getting anything in return? That you’re not being treated fairly? That you’re being disrespected? That this will go on and on without getting better?
What can you do with that information? In some relationships, you can communicate and the other person will sincerely try to do better.
If that’s not the case for you (and it isn’t for me), all I can do is give what I need to myself. I can stop trying to prove how worthy I am by over-giving. I can recognize my own value. I can stop making excuses for the other person. I can be honest about how I feel. I can stop enabling. I can realistically asses the social contract I’m engaged in and act accordingly.
The problem doesn’t magically fall away. The people are still the people. But, maybe we can change. Maybe we can accept them for who they are (even if it’s not fair) and choose to take care of ourselves—to give ourselves the respect, the care we deserve. We can fill our own cup.
That boundary then gets a little stronger, a little deeper. It feels a little more secure. The next time someone tries to step over it, it won’t give way so easily, and you’ll be standing stronger behind it, ready to say or do what is appropriate for you. You’ll have your own back.
And as you do that more and more, you start to change. Your vibration raises right along with your standards. After a while, those toxic people just don’t fit. You’ve moved on. You’ve connected with your resilience, with your inner peace.
Shine on,
Jenn.