“It’s not my anger, it’s anger,” Sharon said in the meditation today.
This is a hard one for me. When I was five my younger brother came along. And once he was born the world was divided into his toys and my toys. His food and my food. His room and my room. I learned what was mine and was told to take care of it or it would get broken. For better or worse I have been claiming things as mine and taking good care of them ever since.
And the here comes Sharon reminding me that nothing is really mine alone. Not anger or sleepiness or happiness or anything. I don’t have to feed them, clothe them, take care of them. I don’t have to invite them in and make them a bed and offer my best food and drink. I don’t have to play games with them and wash them and bathe them. I don’t have to be sure they are included in activities and conversations. I don’t have to introduce them to my friends. I don’t have to give them a key to my house.
And when they do show up I just need to learn who they are and how to be with them without losing my breath.