Temper that Temper!

Yesterday, I woke up early as I usually do these days. I was feeling accomplished and relieved that all of my duties as an event organizer were complete. Sure, things could have been done different, better, but I knew that I had worked really hard on a project that meant a lot to me and I had done the best job I could with the tools and time I had been given. My day was structured around pulling the final strings together: go into the office for data entry training and to organize all materials; pick up the P.A. system; set up at the venue; hold the event. At 8:00 A.M., K- (who has been pretty much hands off of this project) texted me that he thought we should call the whole thing off. Poof! Say good-bye to everything you poured yourself into for the past month. I was furious, boiling. Muscles, blood, skin, mind- all of it became tense, angry, PISSED. Fortunately, S- stayed the night and I was able to vent for a while, but it wasn't enough to extinguish the anger I was feeling.

For the first time in a while, I needed to go to the gym. I needed to punch something, throw something other than my phone which didn't do anything wrong, poor thing. After S- left, I received a call from a friend who invited me over to walk the lake. We walked, I fumed and complained and as the morning gloom burned off, so did a bit of my steam. Afterward, I felt better and we sat on the porch, drank coffee, snacked and enjoyed the summer breeze and the comfort of safe company. As our time together was winding down, E- called and asked if I wanted to play tennis.

Universe? You must be listening.

We played for a couple of hours and my remaining frustrations dissipated. Not to brag...okay, I'm going to brag... We played thirteen games and I won ten. E- wouldn't admit that I'm better than him. He's an ass, really, but I am pretty proud that I kicked his. Winning is something I am a pretty big fan of, but more than that, playing tennis- hitting the shit out of those balls- was quality therapy. I took a few overzealous plows at the ball, losing one to Cherry, but my word did it feel good!

The connection between my mind and body was extreme and indisputable yesterday. The anger was both mental and physical. Of course it was, but when it's as apparent as it was yesterday, I find the connection so interesting. Part of me wanted to stay home, feel sorry for myself and complain to the empty spaces. But no, four miles and an hour and a half of tennis later, my body and mind were able to let go. I'm still angry, but I was able to take control of my emotions, or rather the way in which I was internalizing them. I was able to channel my negative energy and grievances into healthy activities that remedied the situation far better than any amount of wallowing would have.

I was at a bookstore several years ago and happened upon one of the most dismal children's books in existence. The final page said something along the lines of "...and some days end the same way they started." The illustration showed a slight, emo-looking child, shoulders slumped, forehead parallel to the moldy, dusty floorboards, looking empty and depressed to the 100th degree. I could have stayed home yesterday and festered in my fury. If I had, I would have ended the day just as I had started it. I'm lucky to have people in my life who don't allow me to do that.