Letting Go, Or, Letting It All Out

I was angry all week. Being angry sucks. It saps the energy out of you. It makes you spacy. Yes, there were things I could have done. But on the other hand, I think I did the right thing. On the one hand there is logic and clear thinking and reason. On the other, there is pure, unbridled, furious anger. Often times, the anger wins out, but then you regret it later. In listening to my anger, and in listening to my logic and reason, the only thing that I would have changed about last Sunday is in my ability to scream. Have you ever heard a woman on the street screaming? Did you turn around? Did it get your attention? Did you ever pop your head out the window when you heard a woman scream? I think the sound of a woman screaming is way more effective than the sound of your typical car alarm. I should have screamed my angry heart out. That's all. I kept us safe, but it would have been better if I kept us even safer if I let the whole neighborhood hear about it.

If the whole incident of the street urchins trying to steal the drums didn't happen, last Sunday's post would have been about what happened in class. We were working on solos, and Janet said, I can't hear you solo at all. Why don't you hit the drums harder? And then we tried it again, and I hit those drums harder and with more energy, and then the Carolyn was like, hey, that sounded good--you've been holding out on us! And that's what I think my whole life has been about. Maybe not holding out, but holding back. I'm so darn restrained. Always so quiet and not trying to make any ripples or fuss, or anything at all. I have been so shy and invisible that I don't even notice it. I just need to belt out and let everyone know that I am here, and I am here loud. Bring those ruffians on, but let them be warned that if they're going to f*&% with me, then everyone within earshot is going to hear about it.

And the anger. That's the part that sucks the most. I didn't get much practice in. I was working on my counting drill but had to stop because I found I wasn't concentrating on counting, but on how I would pummel little Mofo if I could have my way with him. And then at work, I was completely loopy--not a good thing if your acceptance or denial into college depends on someone who is thinking about last weekend rather than at your life's academic record. My stomach was in knots all week and by the time I got home from work every day, I had a headache. But why let those little sacks of manure have such control over my life? My brother said, They're not worth it, and I really wanted to let it go then, but I just couldn't. But I'm realizing that the anger is so futile, so not what I want to focus the precious little energy I have on. Life is short. You gotta let go of the things that really don't contribute to what your cause is. Listen, people. I love to play taiko. You can throw rocks at us and call us weirdos. You can make us play for a whole year on rubber and carpet-padded drums. You can call the police on us. You can sit there and ignore us as you eat dinner and pretend that there isn't a bunch of overly-genki weirdos 3 feet away from you pounding away for a show that you probably paid for. You can try to steal the drums from right under us, for godsakes. But I'm gonna keep pursuing this. Really. I am.

Bring it on.