Music Playlist for September 2010
Each week we broadcast six New Dimensions programs four times a day. Click here for this weeks listening schedule.
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Anger Has No Arms or Legs
by Justine Willis Toms
Early this morning I was contemplating the Buddhist saying, "Anger has no arms or legs," when an old episode of Star Trek came to mind. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen it, so pardon me some of the details are a little off. The gist of the story and the core lesson, though, remain clear, as follows.
There is an invisible entity that has entered the Enterprise. The crew can’t see it, but the audience can. It appears as a swirling energy pattern near the ceiling, and moves about the ship at will. Klingons are on the ship fighting one-on-one with members of the Federation crew. Every time there is a fight, the swirling energy pattern gets bigger. We, the audience, can see that this entity gets its energy from anger, fighting, and negativity in general. At some point Captain Kirk and his crew figure this out, and negotiate with the Klingons to be friendly. An extraordinary scene unfolds: These mortal enemies begin to walk about the ship with their arms around one another in joyous camaraderie. They laugh and joke and poke fun at one another with good humor. As they do, the malevolent presence begins to dwindle until it is just a wisp, and it finally leaves the ship for lack of the energy on which it depends for its survival.
This Star Trek episode helps me visualize what takes place when I feed my anger, frustration, and bitterness. I give my anger arms and legs, so to speak. I help it to get around. I give it a form that it otherwise does not have. It is a parasite that hitches a ride with me, travels with me as long as I feed it and carry it.
Just yesterday I got really angry in response to a friend’s negative comments. I felt justified as I escalated the negativity with my own angry words. In truth, I came out with my guns blazing in reaction.
Now, in a more centered, calm place, without self-recrimination, I contemplate yesterday’s anger. I can’t change the past, but I can take time out to look at how anger is or is not effective. What was it I wanted in that situation? Did I get what I wanted? Was there a more effective action I could have chosen? If so, what was it?
There are, most likely, many courses of action I could have taken. Maybe I couldn’t have gone directly into laughter and camaraderie, as the Federation crew did with the Klingons. But instead of reacting in anger, I could have immediately and quietly removed myself from the situation. Leaving the scene would have accomplished two things. It would have removed me from the irritant, and it would have made it clear to my friend that I would not stand in the field of that kind of negative energy, that I would not tolerate being talked to in such a manner. Leaving would have been kinder, both to me and to him, and would have created a space for my friend and I to move more quickly back to love.
At the root of all of our longings and our greatest desires is the wish to love and be loved. My own angry words, and no doubt the negative comments of my friend, were ultimately rooted in that desire. My reaction gave arms and legs to anger, and made fulfilling the desire for love more difficult. Walking away would have made it easier.
Let us all contemplate giving love our arms and legs. As captain Picard would say, "Make it so."
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