What I'm not proud of

In the month preceding my mother-in-laws death, we were scrambling. Or rather my husband was scrambling and I was doing my best, whatever that was.

One morning in the middle of all the intensity, he was processing something and needed to bend my ear. All I can say is, I got triggered. I spoke in anger and was ungenerous about my mother in law. He, naturally, got upset with me and walked out.

I was confused and smarting for a few minutes. Part of me wanted to hang on righteously to the anger. But the better part of me knew I was a horses ass for not supporting him, especially when he needed me most.

What became crystal clear in the next hour of introspection was that I was terrified. I was frightened of losing this Lioness. My mother in law had been a steady, unwavering source of love and strength for almost half of my life. Underneath the anger was a vulnerability that revealed just how frightened I was of losing her. When I got down to the truth, I wept. Gone was the heavy feeling of trying to out maneuver something I was powerless to control.

When I put this together, and gratefully my ignorance didn't last long, I of course, apologized to my husband.

What I know with complete certainty now is that our vulnerability is a super power. Our anger and judgments are a smoke screen keeping us from the truth, from well-being and even from bittersweet grief.

We protect ourselves so hard against these forces, completely wrapped up in our right-ness and justifications. I think we're fully convinced we'll perish if we expose our vulnerability.

Could the same be true for you? Could your anger and judgments be stopping the flow of all good things? I'm here if you need me.