Holding Anger Like a Baby

Sitting, the thing inside comes up, quick. Unwanted guest. Takes too much space. Doesn't leave me much breathing room. Literally. Each breath, forcefully, trying to make its way through. The thing resists. Becomes bigger with each insisting breath. I realize I'm going nowhere. I need to change tactic. Go for softness instead. Go with the thing. Imagine it as a guest that's here to stay. I might as well become its friend. Thought of Thich Nhat Hanh's video, about holding anger like mother holding baby, tenderly.

I am not even sure what the thing is, really. But Thich Nhat Hanh's advice feels right. And I start breathing with the thing. Small breaths, to respect the space that's asked from the thing. I come to rather enjoy it. I am joining along, now. Big sigh, and a yawn. The thing's responding.