The messy EU referendum results and political bickering in its wake has left me unsettled and angry. I've spent almost a week sniping and griping at any opportunity.
Yesterday, at circle council, I welcomed peace back into my mind and body. I woke this morning with that calming sense of well-being.
There was considerable talk last night about the referendum. A lot of us, myself included, expressed our anger at the result. We were angry, we felt divided from friends, family and fellow inhabitants who had voted Leave.
The campaigning has been ugly. The reaction to the vote, from some corners of society, uglier still. This wasn't about "losing" - I'm English, I'm used to losing - this was about a deeper sense of frustration.
As we took turns to listen deeply and with intent, I was reminded of a lesson I learned several years ago as I had been exploring my anger at other challenges. Anger is a reaction. We say "I feel angry" when we really mean "I am filled with anger" or "I am reacting with anger."
Instead of being the root of our emotion, anger is usually the reaction. Often we don't know what to do with anger, other than point it at other people. We're filled with anger, so we point it at others and try to empty ourselves of it. Unfortunately, the more we pour anger out on others, the more it seems to replenish and fill us.
As we spoke I questioned what this anger, this reaction, was being prompted by. In doing so, I identified a series of feelings:
Indignation. I'm indignant at what I perceive to be an injustice. I feel the wrong result was collectively reached by the UK. I feel indignant that people were duped into voting for something that was based on distortions and unrealistic promises. I feel indignant that certain individuals in leadership appear to have put their personal ambitions above the best interests of the people they serve.
Defensive. I'm feeling defensive of the many people who are being hurt by this decision. The fuse of racial segregation seems to have been lit. The "out" vote seems to have mobilised an ugly underbelly of racism. I want to protect those who are on the receiving end of it.
Confused. I'm confused at how so many millions of people could have reached a conclusion that seems so counter-intuitive. Given the vast volumes who voted leave, I'm sure there must be some among those voters who did so for deep, carefully-considered, well-intentioned motives. I'm sure there must be some... I just can't see them. So I'm confused at how so many could make such a wrong decision.
Having articulated those in the group, I felt a calming change of emotion. I didn't feel so angry any more. Instead I felt motivated. I don't know anything constructively to do with anger, but I do know what to do with the deeper feelings.
If I feel confused, I can seek understanding.
If I feel defensive, I can reach out and defend and protect.
If I feel indignant at injustice, I can work to right a wrong.
Rather than get stuck in a cycle of nonconstructive anger, I can channel the deeper feelings into "being the change" I hope for.
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