RAGE

I've always been angry at my parents, at my mother for her neglect, inability to see me and the anxiety she transferred into me. At my father, for being weak and unwilling or unable to make up for her. As a child, I didn't understand any of that but I think now it shut me down, and that I made myself numb, convincing myself that I didn't need anyone or anything. As I got older, I knew they didn't see who I was and what I valued - it was good I got As in school but a girl is only to get married to a rich man, have children and live two doors from them. But I was rebellious and went my own way. At least I did on the surface; underneath I carried all those childhood hurts with me and they were the source of more than a little self-sabotage and self-destruction.
     Along the way I was told that I needed to forgive my parents, that "they did the best they could." I understood that kind of thinking in my head - isn't it noble to forgive? Isn't it time to move past the anger?
     But you can't pay lip service to rage and even now all this time later much of that rage still lies buried inside me. No amount of analyzing or meditation or turning it over to the mystery of the universe  has helped me get it out. In fact, I'm afraid to let it out; I'm reminded again of the Wicked Witch - felt rage, that overpowering emotion, will annihilate me and I'll melt away. And my fear is tied up with shame, that I still am driven by what's hidden inside, that I haven't found a way to transcend it.
     What then am I to do? How do I create a space safe enough to feel it, to know that I'm justified in feeling it, that I can let it out because I don't have to protect them, above all that I don't have to feel shame that I was damaged and a big part of me has never healed?
     Well, there is also another part of me. It has worked to survive and be resilient, and has never stopped trying to understand myself and to get as free as I can. It's the part of me that feels compassion for the world and sometimes even for myself. It's as much me as the part that feels rage. And it's in that part that I can clear a space, a safe space, to feel all the hurt and anger that's still inside. I believe that my spirit is deeper and wider than any emotion my body can experience, that my spirit can absorb it all. This belief can help me over the obstacles to that space, the voices that tell me I'm too weak, there's no point, nothing will make a difference, it's too late to change.
     Those voices are the blanket of despair I've clung to, to keep myself from feeling the truth inside, though saying that is one more version of blaming myself. Courage is going forward, not from the absence of fear, but despite the fear. I'm going to focus on gathering that courage until, with faith, I'm brave enough to make the leap into truth.