I don’t know about you, but I feel the venom coursing through my veins when I’m ticked off, tightening all my muscles, activating the sympathetic nervous system to prepare for the gorilla that is not about to attack me, and tagging my amygdala (fear center), saying, “You’re it!”
For me, anger can be a good thing, a sign that I’m alive and I’m invested in this world. I guess I’m feeling well enough lately that unkind remarks bother me more, things that I would have never cared about back when I was doing death math all the time, not paying attention to what came out of people’s mouths because my sole focus was on getting to the grave.
But holding on to resentment is no good either, the broken record that keeps on playing the same tune over and over, and it’s not “Let It Go” from Frozen.
I knew it was time for the Angry Octopus.