Anger

Anger

Anger frightens people. Even when it is just. Even when it is needed to shake the cobwebs off the old chandeliers and break the window-glass that keeps you captive. Even when you only want to hear the great halls, and the mountain-watched valleys, echo with it for a minute; to remember you're alive. Even when the only way you are showing your anger is with truthful words, spoken without venom, and offered to the world like righteous light.

It does not have to be aimed at them for it to scare them. They are tamed wolves who have forgotten how to see the beauty in the more tangled parts of the forest. They have learnt to deny the way the thorns have cut them deeply and to guard their own scars, because they have been taught that those scars aren't important enough to be spoken of. 

You're allowed to be angry. You're allowed to be afraid and to feel lost or sorrowful, and you are allowed to speak of these things. You can let yourself be too much; too wild and too certain and too honest, because there is a whole universe to find the space for you. 

You are kind too, and that is the greatest power you have. It means your anger may be fierce but it will not be cruel. It means that you can be kind enough to yourself to give your pain it's freedom for a time. To release it from the chains of the politeness that has been demanded of you, and let it roar a little while until it's heard.  

Do not believe them when they ask you to be passive and suggest your clarity disturbs the greater peace. Passiveness and peacefulness are not the same. 

There is a peace in being where you are and who you are, with only your own wisdom to give you limits. 

I know that silence has its value, but there are days when it is valuable enough to refuse to try and keep it.

Inconvenient Times

Inconvenient Times

The Marbles

The Marbles