CENSORSHIP IS ALIVE AND WELL - WHEN DID I WAKE UP IN A COMMUNIST COUNTRY?

So called Fact Checkers – are allowed to control thought, speech, and the free exchange of ideas at a whim with no proof of actual intentions etc. on various social media platforms. Main Stream Media (in all forms) no longer gives us the facts as news but obviated opinions of individuals who have no relevance to our personal lives and in most cases to the truth. One group of scientists (highly paid by current government officials around the world) were permitted to give their viewpoints while other scientists, equally as intelligent and with opposing sets of statistics) were prevented from sharing theirs. Now in California, they are trying to pass a bill stating that doctors who do not follow the States required medical directions could lose their licenses? It has gone too far.

Today, I was banned from Facebook for two days. The reason was for responding to a silly question on a group site I belong to that asked this question: ” If I BROKE into your home and stole what was on top of your refrigerator, what would I get?” I responded (satirically) that you would find my electric griddle but I would shoot you before you got out the door (if My dogs had not already stopped you). This was deemed “violent” by some immature, woke, over paid, FB fact checker. Apparently posting about someone breaking into your home (which I recognized as satire) was NOT violent just my response.

Then they cited that, because I had been banned twice before (in less than a year) due to hate speech (my hate speed was stating where I had met my husband or where I was having dinner which is at my favorite local restaurant here in Apache Junction Arizona Los Gringos Locos – that was my hate speech. The name of a restaurant.), that I would be suspended for two days.

I was NOT allowed to appeal any of these “decisions” or the direct slander/libel of accusing me of “hate speech” They commented that they were understaffed and if I went to the Board of Directors site, it would not allow me to connect to it. Twitter workers woke little children had to have a day off because Elon Musk might make them STOP censoring things they don’t agree with or hurts their feelings. This has gone past Orwellian and it must be stopped.

We are being told what to think, write, say, and do by a small group of angry, petty, childish, government educated fools. Last night, I sadly watched animals in Shanghai China being clubbed to death with shovels because their owners (now locked into concrete buildings and not allowed to leave, running out of food, in some cases no water and sharing a toilet) had Covid. This is the country of Athletes, Disney, and members of our own government kowtow to. Is this where we, too are heading?

Time to take this country back and give it back to the truly educated, caring people who don’t judge randomly and actually care about the quality of our world, and our lives. It’s amazing how this “woke” culture uses their own hatred to call others names and force their opinions down other’s throats. Who are the true haters?

A Grieving Mother

She told her mother she hated her and wished she was never born.
She didn't even seem to care that her mother’s heart was torn.
She blamed her mother for all of her heartache and pain.
Did she realize emotional abuse can drive even a mother insane?
She said her mother was the reason she never achieved her dreams.
Those words hurt her mother more than to her they may have seemed.
All her mother wanted was her love and her affection.
But all she ever got was her daughter’s constant rejection,
Feeling like a lost child with no one to love.
She prayed to be taken away to the heavens above,
Not knowing why she just wasn't good enough.
Why, when she needed gentleness, was she treated so rough.
Wondering why her existence caused her daughter so much pain,
Longing for her daughter's love she probably would never gain.
Wanting her daughter to tell her she was a blessing,
That she was not the reason for her daughter’s stressing.
If there is an aging woman out there that feels this way,
Struggling to remember she is one of GOD's Angels, and He loves her more each day

Dear Jess

You will be 18 in about a month’s time and beginning your Senior year of high  school. Your birthday is near the beginning of a new year at school; mine was at the end of each school year. I remember when I turned 18. I lived in the small town of Albion NY, was already engaged to your grandfather, and was also enrolled at the University of  Brockport at the same time I was in high school and working as a waitress a Wolcott's Dairy.  Do you have a part time job?

I am hoping you will be going to your senior prom? I know you will be absolutely beautiful! How I wish I had been able to go to mine, but we were too close to a wedding day and your grandfather could not get a long enough leave for us to go.  I saw photos of my friends at the prom though; the first one ever held off campus.  Kind of like the one your grandfather and I helped put on for your Uncle Doug’s 8^th grade prom.  He was voted King that night, and the young lady he had a very big crush on (not the one he took to the prom unfortunately) was voted Queen… it was a great night. I know you will have a magical time as well!

I made several good friends while I was in high school; most of them teachers. From Mrs. Rodden who was also my mentor, to Mrs. Mahoney who was my American History Teacher and whom I wound up teaching her Civics class for in my senior year.  I wonder who your favorite teachers are and who your best friend is?  My best friend was/is Kim Wright Pritt… 

I would often walk home from school alone, and walk along the (sometimes on) the railroad tracks that were very near my home.  No one thought this was odd or dangerous back then.  It was a quiet shortcut and sometimes a train would pass and I would stand back and wonder where it was going.  I still need to take an actual train ride. I remember hoping we would take the one that goes into the Grand Canyon together one day.   Do you drive a car yet?  Are you buying one? 

I was a straight A student back then and even went on to National Honor Society.  I won a small award for my writing which went to pay some of my college fees.  How are your grades?  I saw on the Internet that in 9^th grade you had fantastic grades.  Oh, and I have reports from High school that tell me my spelling and grammar were excellent. I don't know what your spelling is like, for you never write to me. Never send a card or a letter or an email. That's not your fault, I hasten to add. Your parents stopped contact and I wish I truly knew why. I think that in not being allowed a connection with me, we both lose out.

I would love to sit with you and share some of my memories. Even more, I would wish to be able to hear about your life, your times at school, your friends and adventures. I would love to laugh with you and dry your tears. I most especially would like to hold your hand and go for a walk with you again like we used to do so very often. We could hike the Superstition, or go shopping at the Mall… take a ride in to Tucson like we did over six years ago… where you spoke into the cell phone I gave you and said “this is Jessica, almost 12, having a great time.  I thought we had grand times as well.  I have missed those these past six years… more than you will ever know.

I wonder what interests you, now.  Do you still play the violin?  I am starting to learn to play the guitar (used to play piano and french horn)  Do you still want to be a designer?  I remember the dress you made by hand when you were only 10; it was wonderful! I have the picture of it!  Do you read books?  Who is your favorite author?  Do you draw?  Do you write like your mom-mom?  Do you have new pets?  I have three German Shepherds now ( will not get any more).  Ranger, Ruger and the baby is Sniper.  They are my companions and great company!

I used to send you cards and money but was never sure if you received them so I stopped. Did you get any of them?  I so want to send you something for your 18th birthday but... well.  When I see you again one day, I will get you something special!  I never got to give you your bike when you turned 12. 

Do you wonder what I'm like and do we ever do things together in your imagination? I like to hope so.  I still have the photograph of the gingerbread house we made together… it was EXCELLENT and big… and Christmas Eve when you and your cousins just devoured it

On the day your turn 18, you will be old enough to find your own way to see me. Will you do that? I think that if you have any curiosity you will, and then we can both catch up on all those shared times we are missing now. You only have to send me an email or respond to this post and I will send you my address and phone number.

I will be with you on your birthday (the same day your grandfather and I were married) every day until the world ends.   I love you more than yesterday and less then tomorrow.

With much love from Grandmother Bonnie

Seeking Mystery Through the Mundane

Well over 2500 years ago, the Chinese sage Lao-Tzu decided to leave the province where he had lived because he had become disillusioned with the corrupt and decaying government that ruled there. When he arrived at the border, however, a guard asked the wise old man if he would write a book before he left of instructions in the art of living.  To this, Lao-Tzu agreed and he called this book the Tao Te Ching.  When it was completed, Lao-Tzu departed that country never to be seen or heard from again.

As some may know that Tao Te Ching became the sacred text Taoism and one of the most widely translated books of all time.  Its followers strive to live according to the principles of the Tao which they believe governs the order of the Universe.  Like Zen, Tao (or “the Way”), is a spiritual path which must be intimately experienced; not intellectually understood.  One of its main themes is unity, based on YIELDING rather than resisting.  When a seeker commits to the Way her or she sheds their expectations, becoming an empty vessel to be filled to the brim with both the yin and yang, the opposite male and female energies of life – career/home, light/dark, sorrow/joy, intimacy/solitude, aggression/passivity, pain/pleasure and health/illness.

If our souls are so preoccupied with undoing, how does anything ever truly get done? Inexplicably it gets done by pausing…

Pausing…

Reflecting on the way in which our life proceeds day in and day out; what works and what does not work.

As we pause to reflect before doing, we become aware of how the nature of things, even the minutiae of the domestic sphere, contributes to the harmony of the Universe… the Whole. One of Lao-Tzus lessons is “that naming is the origin of all particular things” and that “mystery and manifestation arise from the same source.”

I have, as my battle with cancer rages on, taken this wisdom to heart in all aspects of my life and in particularly, since buying my new home, in how I perceive the work I do in it and for it.

Strange as it may sound to some… working FOR my home (in other words my place of employment) and in and around my home is not drudgery but a labor of love. 

I do not see any of the work I do as “chores” but as tasks.  Yes, the housework has to be done but to me it is NOT work but caring… caring for the walls that now protect me and my shepherds. 

You see, redefining our work can and does cast a powerful spell over the subconscious mind.  After all, caring – for yourself, your loved ones, your work associates, your pets, and your home – is truly what you are doing as you commute to work, labor in the office, sort the laundry, bathe the pets, dust, do the dishes and work in the garden.

Our daily tasks are visible manifestations of the spirit of God in the work place, in the grocery store, at the doctors office,

and in our sacred place called home.  We find them by looking for Mystery in the mundane; seeing the sacred in the ordinary.  To me this is the heart of “The Way”

Lao-Tzu urged seekers to “regard the small as important” and “to make much of the little”  Today join me in trying to do every task you undertake today, no matter how in insignificant it may seem, as part of the path to Wholeness… oneness with the Universe… working through God and it shall become so.

A House is Who you ARE… not who you OUGHT to be

Whether we care to admit it or not, our homes are accurate barometers that reflect, through our surroundings, where we have been, what is going on in our lives, and who we are – today, this moment – although it is not an exact indication of where we may be heading.

For some people this may not be the most reassuring thought I could put forth.  Nevertheless, it is true and I have learned the reality of that truth particularly over this past year but accumulatively over the last 41.  Elsie de Wolfe who wrote “The House in Good Taste” back in 1913 that some said transformed the way America decorated for over half a century, said “You will express yourself in your house whether you want to or not.” 

Hmmm, seems a true euphemism…  I know that when I first married, and for 22 years thereafter, I decorated for my beloved husband who liked the country/hunting look.  So my walls were adorned with photos of pheasants and deer and shot guns etc.  I did, however always manage to throw homemade crocheted items, quilts, lace etc around the rooms to put a little of myself in there.

When he passed away, and I bought a home with two friends while I helped my daughter battle a nasty custody battle, I decorated in a dark Victorian style.  Not so much because I actually liked it but because I was angry that Doug had left me and he hated the Victorian so.  Again, I took the bedroom that was my refuge in that home and layered it in white linens, lace curtains and books and brought light into my darkened world.

When bills over powered my resources, and I moved into a small apartment with my daughter and granddaughter, we took as much of the furniture with us that we could and then I allowed my daughter to choose the dining table and eventually her and her daughter’s bedroom décor etc… colors went from burgundy and white to purples and blues (except in the living room where I also slept).  We were happy there but my self-expression began to totally disappear. So much so, that when my daughter and granddaughter moved into their own place and then I into my own townhome… I kept that apartment style with me and the darkness grew… as did depression and cancer and loneliness.

Then I started to listen to my soul… which had been screaming at me for quite some time and realized that my life was finally my own now and I had to decide what it is “I” truly liked and wanted and where I wanted to go…

I started very slowly because, admittedly, as most of us feel, I did not have enough money to really every show the “real me”.  However, my therapist with my cancer team at the Mayo clinic reminded me that I could no longer afford to put my life or creativity on hold until I had more “cash” or more time.  Truth was, I was never going to have either of those again unless winning the lottery was in my future.  So, I have used some very simples steps to work toward building my new life and decorating my new home (I finally bought my own home): acceptance, blessing my circumstances, and discovering my true personal preferences… not my mother’s, not my husband’s and not my family or friends…  MINE!

The back cover of my first book “Surviving the Shadow Stalker; A Poetic Journey Through Abuse”, showed me in a Victorian setting.  My second book, “Shadows of Love” showed me under a Texas Mountain Laurel wearing cowboy hat, jeans and a western style shirt (my life starting to become my own) and my third book, “Dancing With The Spirits of Shadowplay”, showed me against an Ocotillo fence wearing a cowboy hat.  My current book will have a photo of me actually hiking up the Superstition Mountain, wearing a cowboy hat (the only hats I truly look decent in) and walking away from the fast paced world… I have realized That is ME!  I found her, finally.  A desert rat who does not NEED the things society has been screaming I do need… and so the decorating of my home truly began in earnest.

Oh, I am sure my children and some other people would not like my style, which is following my love of the Apache and Navaho Indian) and sometimes that has made me sad; but my home is warm and charming, cozy, interesting and it is inviting.  I have stopped wanting to live up to the expectations of other’s and have chosen instead to live up to my own which, believe me is difficult enough.

While money certainly would help all of us to express ourselves through our surroundings, I have learned that creating a warm, inviting home that reflects my own personality did not have to begin with hiring an interior decorator or reaching for my check book or credit card (I don’t have a credit card and my checking account is empty). I only had to look at my home with love… love of self, love of the Creator… love of life.

Once a week, I walk around my new home, burn sage, and offer thanks for the walls and roof that safely enclose me and my fur boys. As I have known the pain other woman have also suffered of losing a home to death and debt, I cherish every moment I have in this place and I ask the Creator to bless it and let nothing but peace, love, prosperity and faith enter through its doors.

Home truly is the definition of God.

“Every spirit builds itself a house, and beyond its house a world, and beyond its world a heaven.  Know then that world exists for you” ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

During the 19^th century (seems like a long time ago since we entered the 21^st century doesn’t it?), the home was viewed as “heaven on earth”, a hallowed haven in an uncertain world.  When man, woman, or child crossed the threshold of their home, “they were safe, not only from injury”, as John Ruskin wrote, “but also from all terror, doubt, and division”.

Today, I cast a longing and nostalgic glance backward to this era.  The Victorian era seems so calm, gentle, and gracious – the complete opposite of these modern times.  Yet, historically I know that the four decades spanning the Civil War at the turn of the Century were among the most politically, socially, and economically turbulent years in our history… Until now.  Why then, should a period of such profound upheaval come down to us not only as an age of innocence but one of stability and tranquility?

I personally believe (having had older parents and grandparents than most my age), that is in large part due to a legacy of love left to us by those great grandmothers who reigned over their hearths as surely as Victoria did over her empire.  Victorian woman may not have had the vote or the trappings of power (including personal disposable income and independence), but they were the MORAL, SPIRITUAL, AND PHYSICAL CENTER OF THE HOME; responsible for creating a welcome treat of beauty, comfort, and contentment that would protect, nurture, and sustain those they loved.  To achieve this, ordinary middles class women, like me, elevated the pursuit of domestic bliss to an art form, from white linen Sunday dinners to red-checked gingham Independence Day Picnics.  Women approached the domestic arts of cooking, gardening, crafting, decorating and entertaining now as burdens, but as a form of personal expression and a means of persuasion. 

Traditions that celebrated the joys of home and family life acted as the mystical mortar that held bodies and souls together in a tumultuous society that was changing at the speed of light.  Ah yes… progress (but I don’t think it has been all good do you?)

One of my favorite poets, T.S Eliot wrote “home is where we start from.”  Today, over a century after he was born, home is where I and many women are longing to return… at least figuratively if not literally. I have always believed that the time, energy, love, and emotion that I invest in caring for my home, in essence carving out a haven for myself and those who are dear to me, is a sacred endeavor…

Life holds no more guarantees for you or for me than it did for our Victorian forebearers. However, they faced the coming day with full hearts, determined to create a lasting work of art; a happy secure, and beautiful treat of love and laughter.

Living in my new home, I have renewed that endeavor which I lost when I left Pensacola and shortly thereafter lost my beloved Doug.  Oh, I kept trying, for a while, but my heart and soul were not in it.  Finally, I have found my way back and my new home is becoming my sacred refuge once again.

Home truly is the definition of God.

Feeling Complete

“How to be happy when you are miserable.  Plant Japanese poppies with cornflowers and mignonette, and bed out the petunias among the sweet-peas so that they shall scent each other. See the sweet-peas coming up.

Drink very good tea out of a thin Worcester cup of a color between apricot and pink… ~Rumer Godden

It is hard to believe that it has been one year since I moved in to my house… one that I bought after so much struggle and loss totally by myself and have been slowly decorating (ever so slowly) as finances and cancer treatments allow.  I am finally decorating my home totally for myself… not for mother or father, husband or children, but just for me and coming home, not only to the beautiful location I have but to an interior that fills me with so much peace has been a revelation into my own psyche and a complete joy.

Rumer Godden, in her memoirs A House with Four Rooms, stated “It was the small things that helped, taken one by one and savored. Make yourself savor them,” she told herself when life was not tidy.

Well, life is not tidy around here today.  My schedules are colliding, needs are conflicting, my oldest shepherd has a swollen mammary gland and needs to see the vet, nausea from the last infusion is weighing heavy, and my office is strewn with real-life refuse, reflecting outwardly the disarray of my own mind at this moment.

One of the reasons I personally love Rumer Godden’s writing as much as I do is that she weaves the colorful threads of her extraordinary life –domestic, creative, and spiritual—with such ease.  The seams that hold her life together do no pull or gape the way mine do more often than I care to admit.  She began her career in 1936 and in a sixty year period wrote 57 books.  She wrote novels for both children and adults, non-fiction, short story collections and, of course my favorite – poetry. Most of her novels, which are mystical, celebrate the beauty of real life; the magic, the mystery and the mundane.  The New York Times hailed her as a writer who “belongs in that small exclusive club of women, which includes Isak Dinesen and Beryl Markham, who could do pretty much anything they set their minds to; hunting tigers, alluring men, throwing elegant dinner parties, and winning literary fame.”  Of all of her books, however, it is her memoirs that I read over and over again. I am captivated by how she lived, nurtured a family and created many homes out of shells of houses all over the world while writing almost continuously (and people think I don’t sleep?)  She is such a glorious story teller, but no story is as riveting as real life.

The soul craft of creating and sustaining safe havens set apart from the world, in which to seek and savor small authentic joys, is a recurring theme in Rumer’s work.  Her secret in living such an authentic life seems, to me, to have been in dwelling, no matter where she actually kept house in the heart of Spirit…

There is an Indian proverb that says that everyone is a house with four rooms; a physical room, a mental room, an emotional room, and a spiritual room.  Most of us tend to live in one room most of the time, but unless we go into every room every day, even if only to keep it aired, we are not a complete person…

My new life (however long God will allow it to be) in my new home, in the part of the country I love, is showing me how beautiful EVERY room is…and I let the mountain’s breeze blow through them all each day as the sun comes shining through every window.

I have not planted sweet-peas or Japanese poppies, but I have planted a Prickly Pear Tree, a Fire Stick, a Candle Stick and next weekend will be adding colorful bougainvillea to gaze at during the day as I play with my two shepherds.

As I sit here in my office, sipping a cup of French Roast Coffee with a touch of cream and cinnamon out of my favorite coffee cup, it’s nice, for the first time in my life, to feel like I am complete; I am at peace.

Allure – we all have “enough”

Allure – we all have “enough”

Ingrid Bergman had it in Casablanca; boy did she have it!  Allure!  That mesmerizing power to entice or attract through personal charm and mystery.

Sadly, today’s world is not much into charm or mystery these days which makes the world a sadder place. These are the days of reality shows, the “tell all View”, tattletale books and tabloid lies which are held in high esteem as truths. Ntozake Change, renowned poet, playwright, novelist, and performance artist stated that "where there is a woman, there is magic.", and I totally agree. However, I also believe that where a woman is there should be mystery! 

What intrigues me about so many of my sex is the mystery– the allure – of how some women seem to pull it all together so effortlessly.  This, to me, is the aspect of the feminine mystique that compels and invites investigation.  How did these women evolve into these higher beings? 

I see them in business meetings – confident, assured, and in command – or smiling serenely in the hall way at school while waiting patiently to pick up the afternoon car pool, a baby over one shoulder, a toddler in tow.  These women never look frazzled, fatigues, or fed up.  They look FABULOUS, darling.. They do not simply juggle, they fly through the air with the greatest of ease. I look at them and wonder what the hell is their secret?  Are they all on Prozac or Valium? Do they have a lot of money?  Are they well organized, practice positive thinking or just have the favorable alignment of the astrological skies behind them? No… I believe it is actually something far more profound; a deep spiritual connection; an inner awareness that let's them love it all.

Does the computer ever break down while these special woman are facing a massive deadline?  Do the kids whine?  Does the car ever need to be towed?  Have they ever taken a dog who has just tackled a cactus to the vet?  I know you and I have, which is why, occasionally, an isolated island somewhere out in the Gulf sounds so appealing.  Then, without missing a beat, we wipe a runny nose, change a dirty diaper, defrost the hamburger, start the spaghetti sauce, sew a button on a pair of pants, and help a child with his/her homework. 

Then… You pause.  Just for a moment.  You wonder what they would do if you weren’t there and realize at that exact moment how very glad you are.  Much to your astonishment it occurs to you that you must also possess that aspect of allure because everybody in the house gravitates to you.  In the middle of the night they call “Mom”…

This leaves mystery to ponder.  The mystery of what will happen next.  But, instead of worrying or obsessing the decision is made to just let go and see what occurs. 

In my case, the children are grown and gone now; we are estranged and I guess my allure and my need are long gone. How I do miss them...  So now, I choose to take joy in this my real life as it unfolds day by day, hour by hour, one breath, on heartbeat at a time.

Emily Dickinson wrote “To live is so startling, it leaves little time for anything else”.  My face may never appear on the silver screen (oh god I hope not) and I may never make the best seller list. But I, and each of my readers, can arrive at an inner awareness that just living and loving it ALL (the good and the bad, the ugly and the beautiful) is alluring enough.

It is enough.

TO SEE CLEARLY IS POETRY, PROPHECY AND RELIGION...

The greatest thing a human being ever does in this world is to see something… To see clearly is poetry, prophecy and religion, all in one. ~ John Ruskin

After struggling with rapidly decreasing vision for a little over a year in the only eye I can see out of (since the age of 12) and then being declared legally blind a little over one month ago, I have become acutely aware of how precious our ability to see clearly is and I am so grateful for God’s miracle and the hands of my surgeon, Dr. James Hiatt, for returning that precious gift to me. I am also grateful for the lessons this has taught me over the past year.  You see, although sight is a precious gift to all of God’s creatures, it is even more so to an artist, a photographer and a writer. 

Pablo Picasso once said, “If only we could pull out our brain and use only our eyes”, we would be amazed at the world around us.  Seeing without thinking or analyzing is an amazing talent!

Paul Klee, the Swiss artist once declared, “One eye see, the other feels.”  In my particular case... my one eye had to, and still has to, do both.

As Paul Cezanne grew older, he doubted his own powers of perception and worried that the authenticity of his art might be a quirk of nature because his trouble with his eyesight made him doubt his own genius.

However, I feel that it was Georgia O’Keefe, whose work I deeply love and who also became a desert dweller, who expressed it best when she stated that “in a way, nobody sees a flower; not really.  It is so small, we haven’t the time – and to see takes TIME; just like to have a friend TAKES TIME.

To see takes time …

We haven’t time…

This is the unrelenting truth and it is chilling to the very soul.  Most of us have been given a miraculous gift, the ability to see, and yet we don’t take the time to do more than glance around at our wonder-filled world. We take our sight for granted. 

When my eye sight was rapidly diminishing, my first concern was for my loss of independence.  I initially lamented about my fear of not being able to drive, go grocery shopping, hold down a paying job, or read the newspaper.  Then I realized, as cloudiness became my norm, that I missed mostly seeing my desert, a star filled night, the muzzles of my fur boys; the precious moments that now make up the days of my life and which I no longer take for granted.

So today, join me in REALLY looking around at the world.  Really look at your family, your home, your pets, your co-workers, and the strangers that you will meet on the street as you go about your daily life.  Smile at EVERYONE because you CAN SEE THEM!

Never ever forget that the gift of vision was so important that when God created the world the first command was “Let There Be Light” in order to see. Then after the Great Creator was finished with each day’s task, He glanced back on his handiwork and “saw that it was good”.

We all need to see how good it is too.  I know I see how good it is every morning I wake up now and how I will never take any of it or any of YOU for granted again.

Unpleasant Emotions

Imagine you’ve asked your child six times to come to dinner and she shows no sign of putting down her phone. Or your co-worker promised to change the copier toner and a week later, that yellow warning light is still blinking. In either case, you know that this is not really a big deal, but right now, in this moment, you’re as angry as you’ve ever been. You press that anger down as best you can, but you also fear you’re going to end up exploding somehow, because all that emotional energy has to go somewhere.

There’s nothing quite as destabilizing as anger, or other negative emotions like sadness or anxiety. What’s worse, we’re taught to suppress these negative emotions, so when we snap and show our sadness or the depth of our worry, we often feel ashamed, which in turn leads to more anger or deeper sadness or persistent stress. It’s a neve rending, ever-tightening loop.

But while these emotions may feel unpleasant, don’t mistake that for pointless. There’s a good reason, evolutionarily speaking, why those emotions trigger the reactions they do. The problems occur not when we have the emotions, but when we’re unable to bounce back from them, or the emotions come up without a reasonable trigger (i.e., you fly into a rage over something trivial, like no milk left in the fridge).
Your goal isn’t to prevent any and all negative emotions (or repress them, which is worse), but to metabolize them the way you would food: Get what you need from it and let the rest go. This means it’s critical that you can understand what’s causing you to feel the way you do, and to manage your response so that you remain in control.
Here’s a three-step approach to meeting negative emotions with more control.

1. Allow yourself to feel the emotion. It is absolutely normal, and necessary, to feel the full range of human emotion. Each one gives you information about where your thinking is giving you trouble. If you break a bone in your foot, it hurts, right? The pain is your body saying, “Hey, problem down here in the left fifth metatarsal! Ice pack and x-rays, please!” Painful emotions are your very own built-in feedback system.
Anger may get the blue ribbon for most taboo emotion, especially for women. The fear is that if you’re angry, people might reject or, even worse, dismiss your anger as unimportant or irrational. The emotion boils down to one thing: You feel your rights are being violated. And you may be right! This emotion may be clueing you in to a real infringement that calls for action. But if you’ve in a constant state of anger, then your thoughts are likely out of sync with reality. That’s when you need to practice bringing awareness to your thinking.

2. Take a breath between feeling and expression. This isn’t about repression. It’s about taking a breath before the emotions run away with you. Emotional literacy is partly about learning how to separate from the feeling and consider it with a neutral mind. When you can find this space, you are more able to disrupt the thoughts feeding the huge emotion.
Deep sadness can come on like a storm. You are so suddenly and completely surrounded by clouds that if can feel like your personality is gone. In your mind, you are the sadness. You aren’t, though, any more that you are the pain in your leg when you get a charley horse. The trick is in training yourself to keep those clouds at a distance before your thoughts fully pick up the old sad refrain. Often breathing, stretching, or otherwise becoming aware of your body can help give you a buffer zone.

3. Challenge the thoughts determining your emotions. Part of regaining control and calm is being able to identify the thought that’s triggering the emotion, and changing it. You may not even be aware that these thoughts are operating beneath the conscious level. They surely are, though, and investigating them is the only way to lessen their power.
Anxiety gets a lot of mileage out of the idea that some threat is coming to get you. It’s vague enough to apply to anything and ominous enough to affect all your decisions, from what you eat to how you talk to your kids. If your mother says something rude to your new boyfriend, he won’t want to be with you. If you flub your words on the conference call, the potential client won’t hire you. But you can test the thought against reality — and reality will win. If there is a threat out there, you’ll deal with it. If not, you can change the thought.

TRY THIS the next time you’re derailed by an emotion:
• TRAP IT. When you feel the emotion coming on, flag it. Notice the symptoms, such as clenched jaw, a sinking heaviness in your chest, or the inability to focus.
• MAP IT. Identify the thoughts causing the emotion.
• ZAP IT/ Challenge the thought. Is it true? Can you be sure your son is being rude because he wants to hurt you? Have you lost your best friend because she didn’t return your call? Don’t let the negative thought get off easily. You want the real information, not just the emotion.

The sooner you get honest about the thoughts causing a powerful, painful emotion, the sooner you can let it go or take the action that will truly meet your needs