An Epiphany on Anger
I find myself particularly intrigued by two events:
- Thoughts that influence my actions.
- Actions that influence my thoughts.
These things make me back off for a moment and take in the entire scenario with a much more wholesome perspective. These things make me pause, like Bangalore’s traffic.
The last 10 days in Bangalore have been particularly profound because of this reason.
For reasons that we’ll consider not really important for now, I travel for more than 35 kilometres a day, spanning a total of 3 hours.
The insane traffic in Bangalore teaches anger-management, if not patience.
There are people who are vexed by the traffic, their souls absolutely miserable and hollow from inside.
Meeting people in such traffic is mostly like meeting a small kid who’s really annoyed. Any direct interaction with the kid will lead to a more annoyed state. (Ice-creams might help, though. Ice-creams always help).
Yet, there are others who are much more patient to external stimuli. They seem calm and composed, which leads me to think why people get angry.
An Annoyed Kid
Think of an annoyed little boy.
Maybe he is annoyed because he didn’t get to play a game, or maybe he didn’t get what he was promised for lunch, or maybe he doesn’t like the boring family function he has been forced to attend.
But why is the kid annoyed?
There must definitely be something that is troubling him, because kids usually have tons of hope and enthusiasm and easily find something to engage with.
An annoyed kid, therefore, doesn’t have much to engage with and doesn’t accept this reality being forced on him. He hopes for a different reality; a reality where he got to play the game, where he got what he was promised for lunch, and where he wasn’t dragged to a boring family function.
The crux of this is the understanding that it is because this kid is being such a wild optimist that he gets annoyed with his present situation.
The questions:
“Why didn’t I get to play this game?”
“Why didn’t I get the lunch I was promised?”
“Why do I have to go to the family function?”
are actually based in:
“How can I get to play this game?”
“How can I get the lunch I was promised?”
“How can I evade the family function?”
Most angry and annoyed people, just beneath their external demeanour, conceal an innocent and optimistic kid, who’s constantly hoping for an alternate reality.
To me, this realisation, that optimism drives most of people’s anger, is inexplicably profound.
These thoughts intrigue me because they completely change the normal standard of responses towards an angry individual.
It helps me look at angry people with pity instead of derision and concern instead of fear. I can only be sorry for a kid, never deride him.
And I can never be afraid of an optimistic kid, I’ll rather be concerned that he gets what he wants.
Wait, does that mean people at peace have accepted the pessimism this world is built upon?