An Antidote for Anger

Dearest Rachel –

It can be funny sometimes when the pastoral team (many of whom are younger than I, and thus should have considerably less difficulty in appearing ‘hip’ or ‘trendy’) admit to the same sins they’re talking about, in an effort to be relatable. Not that they aren’t guilty of such sins, or that they should claim otherwise – there lies hypocrisy and every bad thing about any religion and its so-called leaders – but sometimes, I wonder if they don’t exaggerate for humorous effect.

Today’s lesson was on anger, and how we need to (if you’ll pardon my borrowing from Disney) ‘let it go’; but also, about how difficult that is, humanly speaking. Jordan was almost derisive when talking about people who claim to never get angry: “You’re either lying, or you’re on drugs. And if it’s the latter, let me know what it is you’re doing, so I can get my hands on some of it!”

Now, I’m not going to go so far as to claim that I never get angry myself. We may not have fought with each other, but I’m sure you remember how I would occasionally blow up at Daniel when he would refuse to do his homework when it was due the following morning (especially since I was just finding out about it between nine and ten in the evening, and I was usually tired from a long day at the office; this was usually just the straw breaking the camel’s back when I was hoping to get to bed within the hour. Not that any of that explanation serves as any sort of excuse, mind you). But I think that I’ve generally cultivated a reasonably chill persona over the years – whether it’s really me or not can be subject to debate, I’m sure. And it’s because I’ve found an antidote to anger, although when I mention it to you (and you will probably recognize it having been in me for a long time), you’d likely agree that it’s arguably worse than the sin it ends up preventing.

Any guesses as to what it is?

It’s apathy.

Yep, it’s as simple as that. As long as you don’t care about what’s going on around you, you’re not going to get bent out of shape over any of it. Somebody thinks I’m a jackass? Well, there’s nothing I can do about that; they’re going to have their opinion, and odds are, even if I knew what to do to change it, and did it, it wouldn’t because people hate to change their opinions, as that would mean admitting they were wrong, and we can’t have that, now, can we?

It’s what’s been a little surreal about the study we’re doing on Saturday mornings; it’s a book about not being offended by other people, for whatever reason. Personally, I don’t think I have a problem with that; I simply don’t care about what other people are doing, as a general rule, to be offended by any of it. Now, I might be bothered by people insisting I change something about my behavior when they exhibit the same qualities (or perhaps more accurately, lack of quality) that they want me to change – the old speck versus log routine – but by and large, if they aren’t in my face, I can avert my eyes, and let them do what they want to do. Unless what they want to do is to get a rise out of me; then, it’s not going to happen.

It’s ironic I find myself thinking about this on Superbowl Sunday. There are a lot of people getting worked up about this game, after all, and not just in Kansas City or Philadelphia. This is Big Business, Big Sport and Big Entertainment – if you’re into that sort of thing. Me? Eh, not so much, and you know this; if the Bears aren’t there (and they won’t be for a long time to come, I shouldn’t wonder), why should I care?

I say all this despite the fact that I’m going to a party this afternoon – Jeff has invited me over, and I’ve run into at least one other guy who’s going to be there. I think I can safely assume we’re not the only ones who are going to be there. When I mentioned this to someone else, they made the expected approving noises, followed by “So, what are you going for? The game? The commercials? The food?”

And I have to tell you, honey, I was rather stuck for an answer. Then again, ever since you’ve left, there have been days when a simple “how are you?” can do that to me. But I think this one runs a bit deeper than that. This is definitely a case of indifference, as opposed to simple confusion (and maybe no small amount of depression; your departure hit us hard, you know). I can’t really get into the spirit of the thing.

So it keeps me from getting too worked up about the outcome, which is a good thing. But if that lack of concern is applied to everything in life, well… that may be worse, in the long run, than the occasional flashes of anger.

Wish you could tell me one way or the other, seeing as to how you have all the answers these days. Barring that, keep an eye on me, and wish me luck; I’m going to need it.