Dear Anger,
I woke up to the pink haze of the sunrise peeking over the mountains. A fresh breath entered my lungs as I soaked up the pure beauty of a new day. I sat halfway in my sleeping bag, nestled tightly in my sweatshirt. Everyone else was still asleep as I enjoyed the movement of sunlight sashay across the mesa. The journey to this point had been long and exhausting. At points, I thought we would never make it. We had climbed over mesas and scaled up cliff faces, through ravines, and up waterfalls. My knees were weak and my feet sore from the miles we had walked. Yet, as I took in the sunrise, the journey to this point seemed to sit in a beautiful transition.
At the beginning of the week–and even throughout the hike–I doubted my capability to bring this band together. I was assigned to be lead trailwalker, and I wanted to perform to the best of my ability. This week I was assigned to a SinaguaWalker group. SinaguaWalkers are individuals who are 18 and above and choose to participate in the Anasazi program on their own accord.
I never really understood anger until this week. Anger was an emotion that I had never really explored. If I could explain anger, I would compare it to snake venom. It attacks you and then travels though your entire system, until it finally reaches your heart and creates catastrophic damage. Your vision becomes impaired, breathing becomes difficult, your heartbeat begins to increase, and your muscles may experience convulsions.
One of my SinaguaWalkers was experiencing his first full week on the trail. He was battling both nicotine and alcohol withdrawals. The only emotion he allowed himself to feel was anger. He kicked the stones. He cursed the wind. He punched his way through the narrow passages. He pierced our souls with his words. His anger was his own venom, slowly making its deadly path of destruction towards his heart.
I wanted to reach out and hold him. I wanted to reach inside him and pull out his pain, his anger. His walls were so thick that it seemed impossible to climb, to reach out to him, to guide him. I felt the urgency to aid him. I longed to comfort him. If only he could feel peace. If only I could heal the bite wound and take out the venom that was slowly destroying him.
There were small moments where he was free from his heavy chains. His chains were not made of metal, but of past regrets, past memories, and the past in general. His past haunted him and sometimes took control, which resulted in anger. Yet, I saw something different inside of him. I saw the potential for greatness. He had this magic of life that lived inside of him. He was a tortured soul, weighed down by the only thing he couldn’t change; his past. If he only knew that he did, in fact, have control of his present, his future, and his own agency, would he allow himself to feel more?
I will never forget the moment that I was allowed to see a glimpse of his true self. I remember looking down the narrow passage and seeing a waterfall. I asked myself silently how in the world was I going to be able to make it up and over this gushing and powerful waterfall. We had just journeyed about a mile through swimmers, overgrown creek terrain, and boulders. Our packs were soaked, making the 30-40 pounds seem double in weight.
The SinaguaWalker who had been battling with his anger seemed to be in his element. He hopped from rock to rock, swam with great strength, and offered help to everyone along the way. He made his way up the waterfall with great ease and strength and along with the other SinaguaWalker. I attempted to climb this waterfall and failed multiple times, sliding back down to the place where I started. Then, as the water ran over my face and body, I saw an outstretched hand in my direction. The SinaguaWalker had braced himself between two rocks and, with his extended hand, he pulled me up the waterfall. Exhausted, I fell on the rock just above the waterfall, and observed him continuing to help the others in the band get up the rock. Another SinguaWalker stepped in and started to help also. For the first time, we were a band. For the first time, anger was not the only thing that ruled the SinguaWalker’s mind and body. He was free of the chains. He was himself.
I wanted to keep that moment in my mind, and lock it away somewhere safe. It was beautiful to see the whole band come together and help one another. I felt love. I felt reassurance. I felt purpose in being here rush over my entire being, and it renewed me.
After that experience, the SinguaWalker still fought with his anger. But as the week worn on, the anger began to shift. All we could do was be patient. I knelt down every morning as the sun rose over the horizon. I prayed for him. I prayed that he could learn to feel more than just anger. I wanted him to feel love, support, and recognition. But most of all, I wanted to him to feel peace.
Anger is sometimes viewed as a “bad” emotion. Though anger can be scary and sometimes result in crude behavior, it’s still an emotion. Most of the time we are more angry at our past decisions and ourselves than what is happening in the moment. If we are able to calm ourselves and recognize where the anger is coming from, then it is easier to cure the venom spread. We are able treat the wound and learn to prevent new bites from occurring. Look around you. Notice the signs. Allow yourself to let the anger go. Be your own waterfall. Walk forward. Walk as We.
This is good. Relevant. A useful thing to always keep in mind.