Photo by Jason Williard (1981-2016); used by permission

The old path:

I feel it coming
emotion building
pressure from the inside
molten lava at the core
aching for release
vibrates across the landscape
Release
tears the world apart
scarring everything it touches
healing, a slow painful process

Instead I hold
don't speak
don't act
no possibility for release
except these words

I know this place
I've been here before
Too many times
It took me years
to control the rage
It's been a long time
since I felt the urge
to say spiteful, ugly things
to scratch out the eyes of those I love
to hammer at the world
hold my fist in the air
and scream

Recalling past tools
Play rock and roll music
LOUD
then scream
Pound my fist into my thigh
rather than a child
Beat on a pillow
That one
brings smiles and tears

Reminds me of my two-year-old son
beating on a pillow
"dammit, dammit, dammit"
imitating mommy
I stood in the doorway
smiling inside
but stern on the outside
"you shouldn't use that word"
Did it really matter?
Probably not.

Memories
holding keys
bringing me to tears
the ultimate release

for now
the pressure releases
time to find the source
before it builds again
into a volcano of epic proportions
destroying everything

The new path

new tools
stop
look at the world around me
what do I see
how does it feel
what do I hear, smell
what's right here
right now
ground into the present
stay
until
breath
sweet release
Now
what am I feeling
remember
I am bigger than the feeling
than the child
who first felt that feeling
I can hold on
sit in the feeling
and engage the world around me
just for a moment
stay
feel a little more
If necessary
ground into the here and now
once again
Breathe
Move on

It's a process -
remembering
in that dark moment
A new habit
to be formed
New pathways
in the brain
to be forged
A full life
the reward