Bittersweet: Wilma's personal journey and resilience

Wilma Derksen - author, fifties child, lemon yellow

 

Sledgehammer

October 29, 2009

What of forgiveness?

I don’t know.

The word might stop me from using a sledgehammer.

The day after New York, I attended a full-day women’s conference, “Captivating Women.”

It was everything we as women like -- dark pink roses on the white linen with lace ribbons crisscrossing the tables, heaping fruit platters, curtains of white veil hung between huge white pillars, and tall vases of bare branches. It was all soft and beautiful. Every one of the women looked absolutely smashing -- a sure proof that we do dress for each other.

For me it was a bit of culture shock. The day before to be in New York with male companionship, the next day to find myself immersed in a completely feminine culture, was like visiting another country. Two distinct cultures that will never understand each other. I am with good friends. So we talk, and of course cry, and then laugh again.

We talk mainly about dogs at our table. Most of them have dogs and those of us who don’t have had pets of one kind or another.

We talk about the hardships we’ve all suffered and where we find comfort and peace. We share what brings us joy. 

For me there is incredible joy when a squirrel sits on the fence, four feet from my kitchen window, to watch me. He comes by often to sit and watch and I wonder whether I am his zoo. For some at our table it was a raccoon sitting by the window watching them eat. For others it was the birds…. We all share moments of extraordinary delight and oneness with nature around us.

It really is the perfect place for me to come to recover from travelling. I can feel myself healing.

When the speaker starts to talk, I find it a bit hard to concentrate. There is still so much to process. Then she reads the verse…. “For man’s anger does not bring about the righteous life that God desires.”  I have no idea of the verse or chapter of these words, but that isn’t important.

I am suddenly confronted with my own anger again.

Last week, I discovered that I am angry – visibly angry to those around me. After describing this in my blog, there have been many of you who have written me comforting letters and notes giving me wonderful support in my anger.

You have reassured me that it is natural to feel this anger and that it is unhealthy to ignore it. We’ve learned that much from psychology. I have been given permission to allow anger in my life.

It serves the same purpose as a flashing red light… a reminder that we must deal with something important.

We can even use this emotion. Anger is helpful in building a high fence when necessary or sustaining an energy force sizzling with human electricity that warns everyone not to get too close. It is also a handy sword to sever an unhealthy victim/offender bond. It seems to have its functions.

But it can also be destructive. Having such an abundance of anger, I used it this week at the conference. I used it to deal with a situation that I found difficult to address. I smashed it. I just up and took a sledgehammer and did it with one swing.  It wasn’t pretty. It was a strong reminder that anger isn’t always the right tool for the right moment. 

It never works as a tool to accomplish the deed. In most everything, we need skill and thought to heal things. Especially in relationships where we need the precision and skill of a surgeon to adjust, correct and fix. It rarely helps to take the brute force of the axe and do a hack job that will never really heal without a scar.

And here I’ve done it again…the feelings after are never good.

Whatever is begun in anger ends in shame.

Benjamin Franklin