The impatience and irrational nature of anger,
the boiling over and loss of control,
the venting of discomfort into the outer world.
Safety and love, short circuited.
We till these weeds in our inner garden,
sometimes feeling like we border
on the encroaching kudzu forest.
The tendrils have spread,
obscuring their source.
And yet, each time anger erupts
what is offered to us is the ever-ripening opportunity
to be with and recognize what we most fear,
what we most run away from,
that which triggers us to inflate the inherited angry balloon,
that which covers and smothers our innocence.
Be still in the midst of your inner storms,
be witness to the inner confusion and disruption
once held in the child's loss of innocence.
It is in this space we will reclaim
everything obscured,
everything thought lost;
all connections ultimately lead back
to the source of our abundance.
Life utterly surrounds and percolates through us.
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