So What Do We Do With Anger?

The Quick and Dirty Neuroscience of Loving-kindness in a Divided World

To move from aggression to unconditional loving-kindness can seem like a daunting task. But we start with what’s familiar. Pema Chödrön

This life, eh? Not for the faint of heart. 2021 brought with it so many opportunities to indulge fear and anger. From the January 6 assault on the capitol in the United States, to the emergence of the coronavirus delta then omicron variants, to the global tension around the climate crisis, racism, xenophobia, homophobia, transphobia, the list goes on — last year strained even the most resilient of humans.

In speaking with a friend today, I was struck by her words, “I really hope I can come out on the other side of this (pandemic) and still believe in the best in people.”

Are we not all striving for something similar, and, yet, somehow we feel alone in the muck of life’s challenges?

You are not alone

If you happen to notice that you are experiencing the world through a haze of grey,

or that your fellow humans do not seem so likable or even tolerable,

or that the conditions of your life feel overwhelming,

or you feel angry, hopeless and/or alone, hear this — YOU ARE NOT ALONE.

You are not alone.

Other humans are experiencing the same challenges, the same losses, the same grief. For many of us, this means we feel angry or fearful, and then we react from a place of fear or anger.

I am a health worker in the midst of a global pandemic. I have practiced my vocation for almost 20 years.

I believe we are all moving through collective grief and loss as a culture, and as a world.

If I have learned anything in the past two decades of witnessing and ministering to human suffering, it is that, more often than not, grief and loss show up as fear and anger — in our bodies, in our hearts and in our minds.

This is Your Brain on Fear and Anger

I like thinking about our nervous system, because the physiology makes sense to me, and in understanding the physiology of my brain specifically, I feel less alone, less isolated in my imperfection, and less ashamed of being human.

The frontal cortex is primarily involved in crafting appropriate behavioral responses to various types of stimuli, both external and internal. It controls many higher level cognitive skills such as empathy, self-control, planning for the future, forming memores and maintaining attention to one’s environment.

In short, the frontal cortex handles tasks that require a higher level of functioning.

This part of my brain is really who should be in charge when I am responding to another human. Unfortunately, various types of stimuli trigger the “fight or flight” response in the human brain, and the frontal cortex is no longer in the driver’s seat.

Meet Your Amygdala

I like to think of the amygdyla as my primitive brain’s Incredible Hulk, the alter ego of the timid intellectual Dr. Robert Bruce Banner created by writer Stan Lee.

It makes sense to me that my frontal cortex stays in control until I am triggered by something resulting in the emotional response of fear and/or anger. It makes sense that the primitive part of my brain responsible for these emotions would then take over, effectively kicking my logical thinking mind offline — bye, bye, Dr. Banner.

The amygdyla is often highlighted as the part of the brain that drives the so-called “fight, flight, freeze or appease” response; but less commonly known is that the amygdyla also plays a central role in memory:

strong emotions help humans and other animals acquire and retain lasting memories — and. . .the amygdala helps modulate that effect. This makes sense from an evolutionary perspective: The amygdala is often thought of as being a sort of survival-oriented brain area. Things that have strong emotions associated with them, good and bad, are likely to be the things that allow a species to not only stay alive, but also thrive in its environment.

Beyond Emotion: Understanding the Amygdala’s Role in Memory by Kayt Sukel

For me, anger is easy. If my body is threatened or my life is in danger, anger is useful, even life-saving. The problem is, my amygdala does not know the difference between an anger-triggering event such as a minor inconvenience or irritation, and a life or death situation.

Another problem — if I am activated and I react from a place of anger, I almost always regret the reaction.

If however, I am able to PAUSE (pause action until serenity emerges — as a wise person once said) and respond rather than react, I can remember two important things:

(1) the feeling will pass, and

(2) I am not alone in feeling it.

The Story We Tell Ourselves Matters

All the while, the world is spinning, the global media machine presents worst case scenario after worst case scenario, life in the midst of a pandemic is more complicated than ever, and the amygdala is busy reacting from old scary memories —

I can’t believe he did this to me again, she ALWAYS acts this way, why can’t I remember what a horrible boss he is, why do I keep getting fooled into thinking they changed??

The trick is to notice the story. Notice the story, notice the feelings in the body and remember the two important things — these feelings will pass and I am not alone in feeling it.

The knowledge that there is someone else on this planet experiencing loss or anger or fear the same moment I am experiencing any one or all of these difficult emotions helps me to feel connected to something larger than myself, and, in doing so, I connect with compassion for the other person(s) as well as self-compassion.

This self-compassion is important at the level of my brain, because this story I tell myself that I am not alone and others also feel this way brings my frontal cortex back online. The more I am able to do this, the more the pathway from fear, anger, and separation will run back through this grounding knowledge, I am not alone and others also feel this way.

Choose the New Story

Instead of buying into the old story of my terminal uniqueness (no one understands what I am going through) based in fearful, angry, resentful or self-righteous emotions and (often) painful memories, that furthers a feeling of isolation and overwhelm, I can choose actions to bring my brain back to the present moment.

I can breathe. I can count down 5, 4, 3, 2, 1. I can move my body. I can meditate on a simple mantra. Now I can respond in a mindful way, rather than react in anger or judgement. Why? Because now my brain is primed for connection and loving-kindness. Interestingly enough, there are functional MRI studies of long-term meditators practicing loving-kindness meditation that support this narrative.

Freedom is Possible

Buddha taught, life is suffering, and freedom is possible.

For me, life is beautiful.

Life is painful.

Life is here in this moment.

Freedom is possible when I pull way back from the tiny pinpoint of the current stimulus and remember I am not alone, others also feel this way, and most importantly

this, too, shall pass.

Finally, no one said this stuff is easy. That is why it is a practice. For another great read on responding to anger, check out Sandra Pawula’s story.

Thanks for being here with me. Stay safe out there.

© RBGraham 2022. All Rights Reserved.

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