“For every moment you are angry, you lose 60 seconds of happiness.” ~Ralph Waldo Emerson
I’m not an angel. In fact, my husband used to lovingly call me a “fierce creature.” This fiery inclination can be due to inborn temperament, but it can also be a result of post-traumatic stress or similar brain-impacting life events.
It’s taken a concerted effort, over many years, for me to become more loving, tolerant, and peaceful.
But I still lose it from time to time. Like today, for example, it must have been a triple critical day because I lost it three times in a row.
It started with an unusually frustrated phone call with a relative. Then, an empty granola bar box made me furious enough to fling it across the room.
Lastly, a well-meaning guardian at the visitors’ center of a private yoga resort challenged me. Yes, heaven forbid, I walked up the driveway, but honestly I didn’t cross the gate.
In fact, I was in my car, about to leave, when she came flying over to warn me the resort property is off limits without a guest pass. I became curt and defensive, cold anger seeping through. After all, I’ve already been on the grounds at least a million times.
Indulging in Anger Harms Your Health and Happiness
In each case, I was caught in an almost automatic response. But I quickly recognized the error of my ways. Why? Because, in addition to harming others, I know that indulging in anger harms my own health and detracts from my own happiness too.
Take a moment to tune in to yourself the next time you get angry. By doing so, you can discover anger’s harmful impact for yourself.
When I’m triggered by anger, I feel an upsurge of energy at first—almost a high—as adrenalin surges through my body. But this feisty response quickly dissolves into feeling all churned up. If I start replaying the scene in my mind, easy to do, the emotional turmoil can keep on for days.
On the other hand, genuine regret might pop up. Then I feel bad about myself. I get caught up in how to fix the mess, pulled between my self-righteousness and an ardent wish to let go.
Almost always, healing the wound I’ve imposed takes considerable time—time that could have been used for better purposes if I had only held my tongue. (more…)