You wouldn't like me when I'm angry.

I got really mad at my son today.

It felt shitty.

He had unbuckled his seatbelt before we stopped driving. We had in fact arrived at Oranj and he knew that, but I changed my mind at the last second and continued driving to take the kids to my sisters'. So really, I should have stopped and helped him re-buckled. Instead, of recognizing that I needed to help him and that it was truly my fault for confusing him,  I let my fear of him not wearing a seatbelt turn immediately into anger and I slammed on the breaks spilling a kombucha drink all over my car. My love for him got overshadowed by my fear for him. I was yelling and completely lost control. It was ugly.

I know and have much evidence in my own life and observing the lives of others, that often fear is mistaken for anger and as I have quoted before "love cannot exist in the presence of fear".

When I walked into boga I had a heavy heart. Laura asked me how I was, and I briefly told her what had happened while I tried not to let my emotions get the better of me. She said "well you are here now!" Which really meant - you can work it out on your mat.

And so I did.

I find that when I am in yoga (or boga), I am able to do two things wholly and simultaneously. I am able to work my body and my heart out, and really, what is one without the other?

Today, I was able to channel my disappointment in myself and find resolution through the depth of my physical hard work. Sensation is not necessarily pain, but an opportunity to really feel, go there and allow yourself to experience it for all it is.

I have a habit of getting angry when I am afraid. My emotions can be overwhelming and I have learned through old family habits as well as my own new ones, that anger is more acceptable than sadness.

After my favourite part of boga (legs and bum) ended, we moved into arms and core work. My legs are my strongest area, I am proud of my strong legs and I love to work them because I feel no fear when it comes to challenging this area of my body. I know I can do it! However, arms and core are by far my two weakest areas. I usually take short cuts, give in early and get frustrated. I just don't believe that I will ever be strong in either of those areas. I don't want to go there because it's too hard, there is just to much work that needs to be done so I usually give up before the real work starts to happen.

The real work is not in the easy stuff, it's in the hard crap. Progress isn't made unless we are able to push ourselves just beyond that boundary, the comfort zone, the edge and what I refer to as "my brink".

Today as I went there emotionally with myself, I suddenly found as we moved into plank, that I was able to hold it (with straight arms, not on my forearms and not on my knees) for the full 90 seconds. (!!!!!!!) This was the first time ever. I felt so strong! So proud! I realized that, although it had been a struggle for me, bit by bit, class by class, I had been working at it and now I was actually reaping the benefits. I moved past the fear. I went there.
What on earth was I scared of anyhow? That I was going to fall, pass out or die? I honestly don't know but it was friggen invigorating.

When the work gets hard, I want to give up. I want to only do what comes easy. I lose faith in myself and I give up when the going gets tough. Ab work, not unlike my anger issues are both areas I tend to give in and give up, lose faith. I am afraid to go there, into the dark because I am afraid I will not be able to find my way out. I was listening to a Rose Cousins song earlier today, that comes to mind now as I sit here and talk about going into the dark and my favourite line in one of her songs is "To take a light into the dark is to know the light. To know the dark, go into the dark."

The dark is a scary place. We can't see anything, so our other senses have to heighten and take over. It's an accumulation of weakness that replaced the strongest ability (or habit). It's not that the other senses can't manage it's that they are rusty in situations that they don't get used much. Most of the time when I go into the dark, I panic and turn a light on.

For me going in and doing the work that needs to be done on my anger, much like my core strength, is like going into the darkness. I am scared to run into things, getting eaten up by something unknown, find something I don't like or never come back out. In short, I am terrified of failure. In the dark I need to draw upon parts of me that I didn't know existed and quiet the ones that have hindered me all this time. I have to unlearn to do what hasn't been working for me.

Not to my surprise at the end of class, after I had very beautifully worked through my anger towards myself for being short tempered with my sweet little man, Laura, as usual deeply touched me with her message. I knew I wouldn't remember exactly what she said so I took a picture of the page she read and modelled into her own so that I could at least reiterate the juste of it. She said:

"The first problem for all of us, men and women, is not to learn but to unlearn (Gloria Steinmen). The trick is to see the opportunity in our discomfort. We can simply nurse out hurt pride and vow that the South will rise again, or we can see the situation as a good time to get rid of some excess baggage. (...) Nonhoarding teaching us to let go of stuff we no longer need, stripping away what has to be unlearned, emptying the cut of the past, so that we can fill it in the present."

I know that I could have just skipped over what I did to Oliver because it is too painful to go into the dark and start doing the heavy lifting I have been avoiding. As tough as it is, it will never get better until I start emptying out my cup, brush away the cobwebs, do the hard work and make room for the present conscious living that better serves me - as well as my children.

I was not proud of my outburst that was such a profound display of misplaced anger. I have found compassion for myself and I know I have the willingness to notice what is not working and move forward breaking hold habits and making room for new ones. Oliver accepted my heart felt apology and we hugged it out.