My Love Letter to Writers: Dear Anger

It’s getting late on the third coast. The sunlight shifts through summer foliage, gilding the leaves in a soft amber glow. Lake Michigan has rolled again in her earthen barrier, and the waves though benignly skittering along the shoreline are deceptively cold. Usually warm, even this mighty body of water shifts from warm to cold when enough wind and chaos churn her depths. I suppose the same goes for the best of us.

Truth is, I’m angry these days. Never one to attempt to play the fair card because life at best is messy, even I am frustrated by the steady, inexorable barrage of insults to my ego and the tearing away of all I hold important in my personal and professional life.

Truth is, I want a win. I’m weary of my efforts falling short. Perhaps I’m selfish but I don’t want to waste my time on things that will never benefit me. Why create if no one ever sees it?

Dear one, we all experience frustration in our lives at all levels. The more life we live the more opportunity for hardship. Our health, our finances, and even those precious creative dreams morph into toothy sleep eating monsters, and we become angry. So angry that we stop the very thing that helps us deal with the chaos. We stop creating because we get it twisted, the very reason we create becomes about the “get” when it should be about the “give.”

You see, you are creator. You are writer and visionary. You are a weaver of words and a wielder of color and thought. Your dream is your weapon against the frustration and the anger that comes when we fixate on the things we cannot change or have little power over. We forget that our power, your power, is found in your ability to create, to write, and to dream things into this reality that change it for the better.

Don’t let your anger steal your creative dreams. Your unique gift, even if the world at large seems to look away is who you are. You don’t need the attention or the approval of others to be you. Your words are yours. Don’t worry if they mirror the anger and the frustration and the broken you may feel—even against the words themselves and yourself because you write them. Just write them.

Eventually, it will be like a spigot that hasn’t been opened. The creation will have teeth and nails and a cranky disposition. But eventually, the words will run clear. The notes will be clean and harmonious. The palette will reflect all the light and warmth of a summer day.

Best of all, you will find that you are no longer angry.

The frustration you feel will be replaced by that sense of peace and accomplishment when you allow the creativity to flow through you as intended.

When we allow ourselves to move in the giftings we have, our hearts open up. We forgive. We love. Anger diminishes. And all the other stuff in our lives gets a little easier.


Tammy Boehm, Associate Editor