So I was sitting in the bus which faced toward the sides. Suddenly, a tourbus filtered into the next lane. It was close to the bus I was in. I realise I tend to brace myself a lot more often these days. As though I'm prepared for some accident or bad thing to occur. But that's not the story. Still, I let my eyes widen and I leaned back. There is this certain restraint you can often place upon yourself, right? If you see a fire, you avoid it. Unless there is someone injured, then you force yourself to swallow that fear and be brave. Or at least, that's what should be expected. I decided there was no need to restrain my reaction at that time. But again, not the story. A few moments passed, and I hear the lady opposite me tell her husband/partner that it was quite a scary moment. Now, the pause was a bit too long for her to have been saying it in reaction to fear. I thought perhaps she was trying to spare me from being judged. Perhaps her husband/partner didn't know why I was making faces at him (because his back was facing the side where the tour-bus filtered toward). I don't know if that was what happened, or if my over-imaginative mind pieced a wholly unlikely story together. I'd like to feel thankful that she noticed and that she bothered. And even in the (more probably) event that she did not intend to respond to me, what she did did mean something to me. So I thought it was an incident worth remembering... and thus here it is!
Often, it happens. Increasingly more and more so, it seems. Each time it does, there is a question. Sometimes the questions jumps up defensively. Sometimes it skips a beat; just a bit too late...
Why are you angry?
It is a simple question. A question that almost always returns the same few answers--in one form or other. I had my ego crushed. I was better-ed. I didn't like it one bit.
I tend to feel that anger is almost always selfish. As a response closely associated with aggression, I feel it shows more weakness than it does strength. When someone gives in to anger, he or she decides that calm rationality no longer provides a sufficient brace for dealing with the situation. I suppose it made more sense in more traditional times. Biologically, anger can help to numb pain, heighten the senses, and provide a short-term spike in muscle performance. It made sense when anger complemented such types of physical responses. I suppose when you strip it down, anger then goes on to imply that:
I should have had it better. There is inevitably a comparison; a belittling of another person. Not all anger is bad though. There are certain cases where anger is necessary. When a child has little concept of danger, logic is not going to achieve much. Anger is necessary. But perhaps, you can more legitimately argue that you DO know more than the child. Hence the "belittling" is justified in some cases.
But what about amongst peers, though? Even juniors, or adults? When is it a proper "I DO KNOW BETTER THAN YOU"? Even then, there are ways to exert such authority without giving in to anger. I think that anger has become elevated to a status too high and too important. It is often confused with "confidence", such that the most confident people are often expected to also be the most angry.
When you diss a movie or some food or some service, you suggest that you have stringent standards. You cannot tolerate anything less, because you feel you are worth at least that much. Again, it may be true or even reasonable in some cases. For instance, when you pay for something, you should be allowed to demand it.
But I think we sometimes elevate ourselves too high. We pretend to be angry when there's really nothing for us to be angry about. We crave emotions and so identify with movements that do not actually affect us at all. We cite the "common-ness" of humanity and hence that "one person's fight is everyone's fight", which might admittedly be reasonable in some cases.
But I feel we jump on the bandwagons too fast and too eagerly. We crave company, and so the most effective movements aren't often the ones that make the most sense. Rather, they're the ones who gain the most support. Again, I guess that's true if you consider that policy decisions should reflect the people's opinions--and hence quantity matters. But then how much of the opinions are legitimately our own? And how much of it is influenced by the lessons we encounter, or the movies we watch, or the songs we listen to? And if you keep going down this line of argument, it seems that there really isn't too much worth being angry about. Slowing down to think often inevitably points toward the overwhelming small-ness of what your anger can achieve. It then begs the question: is the anger really worth it? If you let go of your ego a reasonable little bit, and be angry only when really necessary, wouldn't that be a much neater balance? Anger isn't a right. It's a choice. And a skill (to know when and how much to give in). As most things inevitably are.
