Reflection of anger I

Life’s angry attacks make even the most stoic consciousness crack. Christ raged against the temple merchants, Jehovah struck Sodom and Gomorrah with rage, July Caesar ended the Ptolemaic line in a furious revengeSo what is an individual so out of control, so unaccustomed to pressure, so helpless in the face of its reactions, to do? We are and will be only puppets of our uncontrolled instincts, those that make us curse and blaspheme, foam and scream.

It’s complicated, it’s the inner power that makes the alarms go off our soul, take flight with all measure and be satisfied with the most primitive possible action of anger. A scream, a blow, anything is better than enduring the immensity of one’s own anger.

Seneca said in “On anger” that it shows itself in the face, it is born in all animals in a primal way in their face. Transforming them, and transforming us, into a monstrosity foreign to our being. Lion, snake, dog, bullThe wild boar metamorphoses into apparitions, into grotesqueries, far from visions.nes of their relatives. Anger changes us, changes our physical appearance and changes our brain chemistry.

The most fragile anger can tear down the firmest promises, break blood and undo the most eternal bonds. What is worse than a dying friendship, two lovers who hate each other or two brothers who reject each other? Anger is corrosive and oxidizing, it is a stone backpack that blends with the skin that wears it.

Let’s put ourselves in the character’s shoes for a moment, you are the owner of all the countries that surround you and beyond. You dominate every civilization, tribe or group that is defeated with an iron fist. You are the owner of unsuspected wealth. You have a son, strong, healthy and with the same ambition to live as you. one night, After a long day of monarchical work and receiving news of a major defeat for your army, your son interrupts you to criticize your strategies, belittling your efforts. Then you raise your stick furiously and deliver a well-aimed blow to your own flesh in the skull. But you didn’t want to, you didn’t aim there, it was unintentional, I didn’t want to… so many excuses and questions are floating around your head. The blood doesn’t stop coming out, your son is dying. You kneel next to him crying for forgiveness and asking for mercy.

You knew you were the only one to blame and that hurt you inside. Your son is dying. Everyone knows it’s your fault. You have the mark of a parricide. And sadness and shame, in the end, kill you.

This event marked the rest of Ivan the Terrible’s life. At the funeral, two things were said goodbye: the body of Aleksandrovska and the soul of Ivan. But examples of this have existed for thousands of years, we have a series of characters and anecdotes about the truths of anger. From Abel to Darth Vader, we’ve all witnessed a tale of living wrath. He lives with us, trapped by the bars of our patience. This is the reason why we can spot it as soon as we see it, with a unique perfume.
He appears bright in the eyes of those who succumb to his promises.

Fortunately, the solution to anger seems to be the tedious task of becoming aware of each moment, seeing the true reflection of our actions in the second we pass through. Because, although complicated, it seems that complete self-awareness, knowledge of what is felt, what is happening; It serves as a very useful wall against waves of rage, although it is not insurmountable.