She is me.
She is my fierce nature. She is the take-no-bullshit, get-out-of-my-way pusher.
She rushes through me with a surge of energy, one that is almost addictive.
And though we are one and the same, there is her...and there is me. When I am me, I recognize us both. I feel us both. I acknowledge that I am both. I love. I connect. I am peaceful in my core, even when highly emotional everywhere else in my being. I feel a sense of allowing.
When I am her - all I see is what she wants me to see. Anger. The "RIGHT" way. I hate. I disconnect. I am fire, burning anything I touch - even that which I don't want to destroy. I feel the need to control.
Until we are one, I will not find peace.
"The theory of mindfulness insists that accepting uncertainty and the experience of personal control are inseparable." (p87, On Becoming An Artist, Ellen Langer)
Every time a bit of uncertainty or fear creeps in, every time I see "other" threatening "me"...she pops in. She feels the need to control - and yet, she is not mature enough to understand that trying to control - and trying to take responsibility - are vastly different.
"Personal growth is marked by being responsive rather than reactive to the world around us" (p. 67, On Becoming An Artist, Ellen Langer)
I do not want to get rid of her. She is power. Nor do I want to celebrate her, as some strength-filled warrior woman. She is mindless and disconnected.
She is what she is.
I am what I am.
For now, I simply pay attention. I notice when a comment online or an action offline leads to the swell in my gut when I know she is taking control. The quickening heart, the slight burn in my chest, the shortening breath...she's oh-so-easy to spot.
I sit with the persistent question, How do you hate "hate"?
Please, help -- how do you?