Restraint

This blog will be a lovely place for me to practice restraint. While my poems have always been on the shorter side, I tend to talk fast and furious when I'm really fired up about something, so I wish for this to be a happy medium. If I can get to the point with just a few juicy examples, I'll sleep better at night. I remember in a first group therapy session many years ago, the facilitator asked us each to introduce ourselves and say a bit about why we were there. He noted that we should not try to offer our full laundry list of issues, as experiences would emerge through the weeks as they became relevant. Some other time I may comment on the spectacular assistance I received from those years of processing life with other people, but I'm practicing restraint here, remember?

Another reason I'm concerned with being concise comes from a rejection letter I received from a Maine literary journal oh, a hundred years ago, and still remember, word for word. Handwritten on the bottom of the form letter was the following comment about my poems: "These are quite skillful, but not pithy enough for Puckerbrush." I thought about omitting the name of the journal in that quote, but it really makes the sentence, and truly, as anyone knows who submits poems for publication, a handwritten rejection is still great.

I also want to practice being less restrained in some ways. One of my biggest concerns lately as a new mother is wanting to model Good Expression of My Emotions. In a previous post I mentioned that anger needs some work in this department. My ability to express anger in a positive way seems fundamentally connected to my sense of humor. This is unfortunate, because when I'm ticked off I am usually not laughing. In fact I often become Very Serious, because I think I quickly focus on restraining the emotion raining down inside me, instead of letting it rise. So, sometimes restraint good, sometimes restraint bad. This the kind I want to avoid, because it doesn't work at all and I usually leak out poison in the form of wretched sarcasm that creates more problems, instead of just saying "I'm ticked off" and moving on with my life.

I don't kid myself that making any progress at all will be easy. In the movie Pretty Woman, Richard Gere plays a rich businessman whose corporation frequently takes over and dismantles financially weaker companies. Because he is truly miserable, he meets the unlikely prostitute Julia Roberts, who helps him see the error in his ways as he falls in love with her. To sum up the ending, his grinchly heart grows multiple sizes. Anyway, at one point in the movie, they are talking about Gere's father and what a difficult relationship the two had, and Gere says something like, "It took me ten years of therapy to be able to say, 'I am very angry at my father.' I'll say it again, 'I am very angry at him.' " The writing is great, the delivery is great, and the reality is great.

What I am practicing trying to remember, is that when I do recognize my anger directly and outloud, my true sense of humor returns to help out. Not the dark, sarcastic humor, but the kind that is really funny and makes me feel lighter. Recent examples are proving this out:

1. The other day, I was extremely annoyed at myself for breaking a glass right when I needed to leave for work. I said to myself, "I want to destroy this whole kitchen by taking off my own head, adding a fuse, and flinging it full force just to watch the whole mess explode." I instantly felt better, because extreme thinking can be hilarious to me, and put things right back into perspective. I swept up the glass, and left the house.

2. Last week I decided that whenever I clenched my teeth because my boy was complaining loudly about something - like not wanting to lie down to sleep even though he can't see straight anymore - I would try and notice it, loosen my jaw, and think something like "Save your teeth. Forget the whales." So far this has been working, and instead of quietly bursting a blood vessel in my forehead, I realize I'm frustrated, and release it. I can go much more peacefully about the business of easing Noah to a sitting position and handing him his wind-up giraffe Andy for a few minutes until he rubs his eyes and starts to let go.

3. In January at a staff meeting at my office we began strategic planning. I went into the three-hour session with some grouchy anticipation, because there wasn't much planned structure for the session which worried me, and I'd also been tired from recent nights o' teething. I was certain that with needing to help Noah withstand this long meeting at the end of an already long work day, I would show myself to be the humorless wretch I was feeling. But then something wonderful happened. The facilitator asked us to go around the room and each briefly introduce ourselves and she mentioned that she felt sure she knew some of us already from another strategic planning process she had done with the organization several years ago. I piped up and said loudly "Do you ever really know anyone?" The room broke out in surprised and delighted laughter. My own grinchly attitude dissipated, and I was ready to go on with whatever happened next.

Humor can be a big help in releasing anger. Of course, not everything that makes me angry has a funny side. But most things at least have humanity written all over them, and taking time to notice this usually allows my anger to loosen up and come free from the restraints that bind it to me.