Is Anger Better For You?
By the time Yom Kippur (the Jewish Day of Atonement) arrived at the end of last month, I was in desperate need of a spiritual recharge. I had been struggling with an inordinate amount of anger on various levels for months, and no matter how much I tried, I couldn’t metabolize it. Exercise failed to sweat the toxins out of my body, prayer failed to lift the weight from my heart, and my signature brand of stubborn optimism failed to buoy my spirit. This build-up of bitterness left me flat-hearted, broken, and growing more quietly irritable with each passing week. I entered the period of reflection and repentance leading up to Yom Kippur half-heartedly.
Life has always taught me to put my head down and grind through hard times. “This too shall pass, as everything does.” “Smile through it and don’t let the opposition see you sweat.” “The night is darkest before the dawn.” Even the litany of age-old truths failed. Then Yom Kippur came.
Since there is no rabbi to lead services at the prison, I spent the morning in quiet prayer and solitary study. Noontime came and went, and eventually my cellmate, Mr. Holland, joined me. He opened a different prayer book and pointed to the biblical story of Jonah, asking me to read aloud.
As the story goes, Gd had commissioned Jonah to pronounce judgement on the great city of Nineveh, to warn them away from destruction. Jonah ran from his duty, got himself thrown overboard by sailors into a raging sea, and spent three days in the belly of a huge fish before he finally obeyed Gd and called the people of Nineveh to repentance. The people fasted and turned away from evil actions, Gd spared them, and Jonah was a hero.
Jonah was angry, though. Furious to the point of asking Gd to kill him. Rather than saying, “Aw, poor Jonah, how can I make you feel better?” Gd asked him, “Is anger better for you?” (Jonah 4:4). This is where Mr. Holland stopped me and challenged me to think about how that question lives in the heart of much of my work. I help people navigate processes of freeing themselves from intense anger that is often rooted in pain, violation, and traumatic experiences.
When people have been harmed or have suffered injustice, it is important to affirm their right to be angry. I don’t try to hurry them out of the emotion. Instead, I sit with them in it, so they can feel accompanied and safe enough to start exploring it, to ask themselves, Where does it come from? Is it driven by a current or past harm? Does it stem from an injustice personally suffered or one that impacted a loved one — or a whole people?
Anger is often an umbrella or mask of emotion: it’s a safer emotion to express than the one(s) that exist beneath it. What emotions are being covered by your anger? Fear? Sadness? Shame? Guilt? Embarrassment? Pain? Powerlessness? To express or explore any of these deeper emotions requires a level of vulnerability not needed when dealing with anger.
Anger can be a shield, but it can also become a trap or a habit. Most of us don’t know how to be present for the intense emotions of other adults. If someone breaks down crying in public or in the workplace, what do most people do? Either change direction to avoid the tears, offer an “It’ll be OK” and move on, or cast a sideways glance at the next person as if to say, “I’m not touching that” or “Let HR handle this one!” Too few of us stop what we’re doing, gently approach the person in pain, and genuinely offer to be present with them in their distress. To express any big emotion other than joy or anger puts both the person experiencing the emotion and the one accompanying them in a place of vulnerability.
So, is anger better for you? When I finally said to Mr. Holland, “Better than what?” he exclaimed, “That’s the question!”
Is anger better than what? What is left when you let go of the anger and bitterness? What do you lose? What do you gain?
In this moment, as I let go, I lose the extra weight I’ve been carrying in my heart and the toxins that have been poisoning my thoughts. I lose the shame of emotional weakness that has hindered my prayers. I regain my capacity to remain calm and steady, to sit comfortably with others in the full spectrum of their big emotions. I get my peace and freedom back internally, even as my external circumstances have not improved.
What would happen for you in this moment if you started to let go?
Leo Hylton is a PhD student at George Mason University’s Jimmy and Rosalynn Carter School for Peace and Conflict Resolution, currently incarcerated at Maine State Prison. His education and work are focused on Social Justice Advocacy and Activism, with a vision toward an abolitionist future. You can reach him at: Leo Hylton #70199, 807 Cushing Rd., Warren, ME 04864, or leoshininglightonhumanity@gmail.com.
