"In rage, deaf as the sea, hasty as fire"

Yes, I am still on my Shakespeare binge. So far, since starting here at EO Smith Highschool, and having access to their lovely library, I've read: Hamlet; King Lear; Macbeth; Julius Cesar; Othello; some of the sonnets; and now, I'm reading Richard II.

Today, I want to write a bit about a quote which means a lot to me:
"In rage, deaf as the sea, hasty as fire" (II, i, 19).

These are the words with which, at the beginning of the Richard II, the king describes the flaring conflict between Bolingbroke and Mowbray, who stand before him asking for permission to fight. These men are enraged at each other; each is ready to prove that he's right and the other wrong, at the cost of his own (and the other's) life. And, as Richard notices, so great is their rage, that it makes them deaf and unable to see anything other than it.

I've been thinking about rage lately.

Most of my life, when faced with someone in rage, my first instinct was to run away or submit; literally, when someone would lose their calm and yell or become verbally aggressive, my mind would become weak and hazy, I would lose my power of reason, and try to end the conflict as quickly as possible, usually by agreeing with whatever they wanted. This, at the time, felt like a matter of self preservation. Growing up in a totalitarian regime where submission to power was expected, at great risk to yourself otherwise, it makes sense to me that I reacted this way to overt displays of power. And there were other influences, but rather than focusing on the factors that engendered and cemented this reaction, I want to focus on what allowed to dissolve (and it is still dissolving!).

Over the years, as I matured and faced this type of situation many times, as well as its consequences, I've learnt to deal with rage and other kinds of toxic energy, and in so doing, now feel more empowered to stand where I am and be who I am even when faced with yelling, or other forms that uncontrolled rage can take. How did this happen?

Basically, it happened as a result on my mothering Sena and Aiyana. After years of guiding them through their own conflict resolution, I realized that I needed to think of myself as another child I'm mothering: specifically, when faced with confrontations, neither making excuses to let myself off the hook, nor punishing myself unfairly by ignoring my legitimate needs and concerns.

So, simply taking responsibility for who I am, admitting my mistakes and shortcomings, and owning where I stand, without placing undue pressure either on myself or the other person - all of this helped a lot.

I know that I am not alone in having felt helpless and afraid when dealing with someone in rage or other forms of overwhelming energy. And I'm not alone in having experienced the shame that comes from cowering down before it. And, I'm also not alone in experiencing the clarity and fearlessness that comes when realizing that it is possible to stand with dignity and simplicity even when faced with someone that cannot see beyond their rage.

To bring it full circle, here is another quote from Richard II:
"...I thank thee, King...
For thy great bounty, that not only giv'st
Me cause to wail, but teachest me the way
How to lament the cause" (IV, i, 299-302)

What this means to me, is that those who put us in some of the most uncomfortable positions, who "give us cause to wail", can also be our teachers in "the way / How to lament the cause". They inadvertently teach us how to deal with difficulty.

I am not talking about physically abusive situations here, nor am I implying that we should tolerate any kind of abuse. I'm simply noting that I've had a few teachers in my life, who, though they didn't realize it, and I didn't realize it at the time, taught me how to stand up for myself, and how to deal with unpleasant situations. In this sense, I am grateful. And I do actually believe that when we are at peace, it will come naturally that we will want to give thanks to, or at least feel compassion towards, even those that presented us with some of the most unpleasant situations in our lives.

(Picture was at Atticus Bookstore cafe in New Haven. I loved this place back in 2000 when I lived by the shore, and I got to hang out there last night while Sena was attending an environmental meeting nearby).

Peace