Growing Up Hulk

I envy kids.

Not for the obvious reasons…don’t think I’d enjoy retreating back into innocence. Purity is a myth sold to us by soap companies. (And don’t try to tell me that’s cynical, we’ve all encountered hell spawned children, the crazy kind that make you want to get a vasectomy).

No I dig kids because they don’t suppress their anger. From day one, if they’re not happy about something, don’t enjoy the way the Gerber tastes, they let you know. Instantly. Honestly. It’s so cool, so freeing, so refreshing (obviously I am not a parent). Adults aren’t like that.

Adults hide emotions, mask their anger, make sly comments like I am supposed to pick up their intended meaning(s) or tone and all this other crap instead of actually expressing their anger. It’s so annoying dealing with people like that. (As anybody who has worked in service can attest it’s actually annoying dealing with people). Makes me feel like their emotions are some sort of childish puzzle for me to figure out, the kind you see on the back of a cereal box. Help Tony the Tiger find his way home!

If you have something to say just say it. Please.

Spit it out.
Spill it.
Speak up.

I’m not advocating the overacting you typically see in movies. Throwing all the glasses off a table. Yelling or violently shouting. That’s not cool. Plus cleaning up broken glass sucks so just get a punching bag. (“Won’t somebody please think of the glasses!”)

Anger, like all creativity requires the right medium of expression.

I also envy the Hulk.  Kids…and the Hulk.

“Once Jack McGee’s snooping irritated David Banner and he told the reporter “Mister McGee, don’t make me angry. You wouldn’t like me when I’m angry. It appears that whenever David Banner experiences extreme emotional responses derived from anger, pain or panic, he transforms into the Hulk. When his rage subsides David returns to normal.”

Sometimes it feels like people believe every relationship is so egg-shell fragile and must be handled with paranoid care.

Shouldn’t we know (by now) what will last and won’t? The relationships that really last are like a package entrusted to Fed Ex: they’ve been dropped, kicked, dragged, mishandled, unappreciated, lost their way and everything else but still emerge, usually for the better. We play games instead of communicating how we feel. Isn’t it time we heeded the NKOTB’s advice of “No More Games?”

I wonder where along the way, during our growth the instinct to suppress anger is implanted.  Do our parents, however well meaning do this to us?

Are these the same people who tell us to avoid conflict and that all conflict is bad?  Conflict is not bad, not at all.

We’ve just foolishly placed a premium on winning any argument we have but it shouldn’t be about winners and losers.  It can’t.  Because if it just about winning then it would feel so much better than it does when we win.

If we’re being honest about stuff.


Also published on Medium.

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