A Pebble in My Pocket

No fear, no courage.

Jan 19, 2024

I have a pebble in my pocket.

And by that I mean I have a tendency towards anger. Maybe it’s because I’m an Aries – probably that, I don’t know, I’m not much of an astrologer – but people and things can really piss me off sometimes. It comes on quick, my usual calm demeanor swiftly replaced by a blizzard of colorful language and a cacophony of loud noises.

I don’t think it’s anything particularly over the top, though, of course, it’s not really about what I think. I’m not going around punching holes in walls. It’s more closing a drawer harder than need be or giving my phone a good tossing. Some kind of intense, physical release. Though it’s usually just an eruption of four-letter words followed by a long simmer in a frustrated silence.

I grew up seeing things I thought were particularly over the top. My dad also has a tendency towards anger. I’ve watched him kick holes in walls. I’ve been on the receiving end of blistering, seemingly unending tirades. I’ve watched him lash out at strangers, intervened when he’s come to blows with aunts and uncles, and stared out the passenger window during his most indulgent bouts of road rage.

I’ve also heard about things I didn’t see and I’ve picked up what people were putting down when they hinted at things I didn’t see but weren’t so keen on talking about.

For most of my life, I thought I’d avoided inheriting his anger. I was a quiet kid. Strangers would call me calm, cool, and collected. As I got older, people would comment on my chilled-out demeanor, go-with-the-flow mentality, and mature manners.

But there were always moments when that surface would rupture and flames would burst through the cracks. It happened when I played video games and would get stuck on a level or lose a game at the last second. A controller would get slammed or thrown, accompanied by the earliest iterations of those flurries of colorful language. It would happen at school when someone attempted to bully me. It would happen when a website wouldn’t load or when Garageband would crash while editing a song (inanimate objects piss me off the most).

The older I got, the more frequent these outbursts became. They were especially frequent during times of high stress or severe depression – and I’ve been through a lot of stressful and depressing periods. However, despite the times I’d cuss out the corner of a bed for stubbing my toe or honk and holler at the idiot driving in front of me, I never saw these outbursts as reflections of – extensions of – the anger I witnessed as a kid.

I was different, I’d tell myself. I’m not like he was.

Of course, it’s not really about what I think.

This anger has gotten me into some sticky situations in the relationships in my life. There have been hella toxic romantic relationships with blow-out fights. I’ve lost friendships, though to be frank, I didn’t want to be their friend anyway. There have even been moments where, to my chagrin, frustration has boiled up at work.

I read recently that anger grows from your feelings of fear. Anger is a reaction to it. It made sense to me. I pictured an animal, backed into a corner, scared shitless for its life and understood that of course it would lash out, bite, scratch, and claw its way to safety. I’m not sure why the relationship between fear and anger clicked reading it this time around. I’ve heard it laid out many times in many iterations. I mean Yoda said it best, right?

“Fear is the path to the Dark Side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering.”

But I guess for some things to connect, then sometimes you have to step away, do some living, let time provide a truer vision.

Maybe before it was hard for me to accept that I was even afraid. It was definitely hard for me to accept that I was angry – am angry. And, hey, I guess I am afraid.

There are a lot of things I fear. Failure. Shame. Letting people down. I fear people’s reactions, whether they’ll lash out at me, or give me the dreaded silent treatment, or flash the look of complete and utter disappointment. I fear not being enough, not being comfortable, not being alive.

Tons of fear. Leads to tons of anger? Yikes.

But as much as this is about me, how much is it really about me? I may have learned to fear my father’s anger and my mother’s disappointment, but where did they learn these behaviors?

I can’t help but think about the deep-seated fears that gave rise to my dad’s wrath. He’s told me stories about his father, how he found himself on the receiving end of his hands and tirades. How fearful my dad must’ve been – must be.

Then I wonder how much further back it goes, how many generations have sown this seed of fear and passed it on to their children. The Bible says something about the sins of the father visiting upon three or four generations. So what was going on with you, great-great-grandpa?

Of course, the only seeds that grow are the ones you water.

And I guess now that’s up to me.

I like to think fear can lead to something else besides anger. Maybe it can lead to courage instead. You can’t have courage without fear, just as you can’t have day without night, or joy without suffering.

You aren’t just granted courage like some skill level-up in a video game. You are given opportunities to be courageous. And those opportunities have to scare the shit out of you.

When I feel fear, it’s my choice: to give in and react with fear or to take care of it and act with courage.

So, long story short, now I have this pebble in my pocket and whenever I’m feeling heated I hold it, and I breathe, and I repeat to myself:

No fear, no courage.

food for thought

Sometimes when we become angry during the day, it is difficult to remember to stop and breathe. I know a good way for you to remember to stop and breathe when you are angry or upset. First, go for a walk and find a pebble that you like. Then, go sit near the Buddha, if there is one in your house, or outside under a special tree or on a special rock, or go to your room. With the pebble in your hand, say:
Dear Buddha,
Here is my pebble. I am going to practice with it when things go wrong in my day. Whenever I am angry or upset, I will take the pebble in my hand and breathe deeply. I will do this until I calm down.
Now put your pebble in your pocket and take it with you wherever you go. When something happens during the day that makes you unhappy, put your hand in your pocket, take hold of the pebble, breathe deeply, and say to yourself, 'Breathing in, I know I am angry. Breathing out, I am taking good care of my anger.' Do this until you feel a lot better and can smile to your anger.

A Pebble for Your Pocket: Mindful Stories for Children and Grown-ups by Thich Nhat Hanh

a journal prompt for you

Take a walk. Write about what you see, hear, smell, and feel.

If you do write something and you would like to share it, I’d love to read it. You can send it to theguidelines@substack.com or leave a comment.

korick is…

korick is reading A Pebble for Your Pocket: Mindful Stories for Children and Grown-ups by Thich Nhat Hanh
korick is watching Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy!
korick is listening to american dream by 21 Savage. Not a bad project from 21. A few skips and misses that made parts of the album forgettable. But despite the lows, the highs on this project are very high. Really liking “all of me,” “letter to my brudda,” and “dark days.”
korick is paying attention to Google. I heard they’re laying folks off in favor of Artificial Intelligence and automation. I don’t work there, but my inner conspiracy theorist wants to indulge in the idea that the robots are coming, the robots are coming!!