Kicking the pinecone.
I had a feeling when I created this space that it would act as an off-season therapy outlet. Prophecy fulfilled. Thank your lucky stars I actually go to therapy, otherwise I would be posting so often that I would flag myself as spam. š©
So anyway. What is this damn pinecone I speak of, you may wonder.
Donāt worry, here it comes.
The pinecone kicking is a measure of my ability (or lack thereof) to get angry. I didnāt think much of it until recently, when it was pointed out to me. I laughed at first.
I mean, come on, people spend thousands of dollars on anger management classes and meditation retreats, and you tell me my problem is that I donāt get angry enough? Funny. š
Turns out itās not. Anger (and its wilder cousin fury) are natural human emotions. They serve a purpose. What goes in - stress, disappointment, heartbreak, frustration, pain - must come out. I seem to have an issue with the latter.
Without going into too many details (which I am saving for a future therapy session or who knows, even a memoir), itās quite clear that at some point I learned that getting angry is wrong. That it would be bad news for me. So I donāt.
Rest assured, I will never go around punching people, no matter how much they deserve it. So much money and jail time saved. The downside (for me at least) is that I will always be left with a fiery pit inside, a lot of unprocessed emotions and a pinecone to kick.
Ever since I found out about this, Iāve been thinking of ways to get the fire running. To crack a door and let some anger out. Safely.
In my āresearchā, rage/smash rooms came up quite often. If you didnāt know, rage rooms are spaces where you can go and smash things, usually for a hefty price. Seems healthy. š¤Ø
Tempting as that may sound, it treats the symptom, not the cause.
What I have to do is learn (much like a baby learns to walk) that getting angry is okay. That it wonāt drive people away. If anything, it will help bring more honesty into my relationships. It will let people know how I really feel.
Because being āniceā or āchillā (or whatever other labels we put on people who are unable to show their anger) only paints half a picture. The other half may be ugly, but it exists. It has the right to.
I have to unlearn that letting out your anger (again, safely) equals being selfish, bitchy or unkind. Itās human nature.
And besides, at this rate, Iāll be running out of pinecones to kick. And itās a pity. I really like pinecones.