My inner zen Buddha flaunts her arrogant mischievousness, eyes twinkling in outwardly wisdom wild. Years of emotional chaos licking my insides harshly. Wounded again. A battle other, scarring parts that recoil within to heal from toxicities unknown. I hear no more, a deaf stranger stumbling on feet, small. Hope brewing in the cup of life, steaming wickedly across oceans calm. A giant hand pulling on a cord invisible; a delicate thread of a union tied tightly around my heart fragile. I want to jump in her cool arms, float to the unknown tsunami of freedom, yet I am not able too. Simply, I do not know how.
Instead, my little Buddha plays a trick devilish, its lick a sweet, warm flame goading.
“Follow me”, she sings.
Bound by her melody, majestic- stupidly I follow. The hammering in my chest, a plea of a heart resisting. However, transfixed in this bewitchment, I only can continue. Doors many, a blurry whirlwind rainbow beneath my blind eyes. The low roar of a lioness awakening, stirring sleepily from her slumber. Her flames scorching, the soft coccoon of my womb. Agile limbs, knocking the wind from lungs crushing beneath an evil long forgotten amongst the midst of wonderful hope. In this moment, its birth, longing to push past boundaries forged in iron shackles enchanted. Resistance no real possiblility anymore.
Warm dragons breath, igniting a spark in my veins cold otherwise. The thudding slow of a heart passive, now a steady beat of a guitar broken. My feet stumble on their own mistapping.
“The Anger Room, welcome”, she hums in a whisper melodious.
The clammy fingers hanging off my loose arms, tremble terribly. Pounding blood rushes to my ears, a roar deafening settling home. The erratic wheeze of my lungs, coughing inside explodes in my mouth dry. I just cannot be here. I cannot. Yet, this is where I am. A shadow eliminating in light, now burning a hole into life. The mere reality a hazy blur of many selves, co-existing as one. Fear grapples with my throat. The threat a danger beyond any reality perceived.
“You cannot hide”, she hisses. Her melancholy bleak.
With hestitation mighty, my fingers cling to the rusty baseball bat. Sweating eyes sting, clouding my vision. The vacuum lulling.
“Come on! Hit me!” Her screams wild.
Unable to move, frozen, I suppress emotions, swimming to life in my heart. Amongst a world, simmering in rage heated, it’s heart, festering in unreleased furiousity- I am here, safe but so ridiculously afraid to let go. Whilst, versions of my non aggressive self, exploding violently in the wake of someone else dawn. However, though, my inner Buddha holds on to shreds of humanity. I will not be angry. This is not me.
Her laugh, is a cruel jibe. I shudder. Backing away from my neatly arranged demolition site. She blocks my exit. I am trapped in a room with my own shadows. Escalating anxiety grips me forcefully as the lioness roars again. The inferno alight within somewhere unknown. I sob. She laughs. The merry dance continues for awhile eternal, before the moment without warning, she breaks free.
I am a helpless victim to her antics. Watching in horror silent, I stare at this shadow manic as it unleashes furies hidden for centuries long passed. She is simply, uncomplicated. Her feline limbs strong, destructive and uncaring. In her awakening, she sees nothing but only her repressed agony. Without careful inhibitions, she ravishes all that dares to step in front of her claws. Her viciousness, appears unnecessarily pointless but I know it’s not. The method to her insanity, sane really. The years of being forced to hide, a toll unrelenting now. My pleas pathetic, fall upon the dead. I am not able to tame her. No one owns her, only her. Her anguished howls, tearing my ear drums. Her blood tears, bright cherry red. Blood thirsty claws, shredding innocent wooden furniture. My attempts to bring her to the light, die in my mouth as her heart bursts from her chest. Her cool words hang between us.
“I am anger. Free me from this never ending hell.”
Without any other warning, she bursts into a bonfire magnificent. I can only stare at the ashes beneath my weary toes.
Alone, with a baseball bat, in a room clinically white, finally I breathe. I drop the bat, letting the tears flow without fear.
“Did you have a good time?” asks someone.
Blank, I nod. If only we didn’t shame our feelings, today, I wouldn’t within be fighting to release emotions I didn’t even know existed. Whilst, the world, swallows up our inner Buddha’s behind the latent normalised anger of society, I urge you to stop. We do not need to label our feelings. They are expressions of our inner truths. We can live alongside them, without fear, guilt, shame. Behind every inner Buddha, there might be a lioness, please don’t bury her deep, beneath layers of hate. She’s only delivering you a message. You are not anger, only a moment of expression. Beyond that moment, you are light, love, joy.
Our shadows, are our windows. They mark our beginnings and insurgence to awakenings. Please, free them safely.
Thank you to the Anger Room for a safe, organised experience.
Why not meet your shadows in a safe place?