soft edges

There’s something irresistible about the softness of oyster mushrooms.  I took them out of the paper bag when I got home and set them gingerly against the tea-pot.  In the rush to put away groceries and deal with various weekend things, it didn’t strike me that this is relationship between my anger and my rage. It’s impossible not to feel anger; that’s a hard-wired, deep-in-the-brain process, proportional to the level of threat.  Mainly, it’s a warning signal that I need to protect myself or someone dear to me.  Under those conditions, if I’m steady enough to be aware of it rising up from a place of ancient wisdom, my anger actually has soft edges.  And it rises with sufficient spaciousness that I can choose from an array of actions.

If I’m steady enough.

Thank you for practising,


5 thoughts on “soft edges

  1. So many feelings arise in response to circumstance. None of them, even rage and greed, present much of a problem, as long as we don’t start dancing with them.

    Of course, they do present themselves as tempting and familiar dancing partners and we know the tune and the steps so well . . . it’s hard to resist a swing around the floor.

    Perhaps the softest edge comes from saying “no thanks” when they tap us on the shoulder.

  2. I love the “soft edges” view of anger… My experience also is that when I intimately meet (dance with) the anger, and the fear that’s behind it, it softens. Dancing with it doesn’t mean I allow it to lead, or get entangled with it, I just acknowledge it and embrace it with compassion, like a hurting child. Well, on a good day, that is – as you say, if I’m steady enough. Darth Vader is still hiding in my closet… 🙂

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