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We were standing in the courtyard area of a hotel when it happened.
It was a Friday night and the local football team had ended their game at the oval a short walk from the hotel. The punters had spilled out into the street.
The local team had lost. Again.
It was my first night out in over eight months. My first night out since my wife had passed away from cancer, leaving me to look after a 5-month-old son and a three-and-a-half-year-old daughter.
I had just been through and was still reeling from the most devastating time I have ever encountered with the diagnosis and passing of my wife and partner of 10 years.
The night had been pretty fun and a welcome distraction. Friends and I had caught up with a group of people we knew and we were standing in the courtyard having drinks and chatting up a couple of girls who knew one of the five guys in our huddle.
The conversation became more animated and we brought the two girls into our circle. They guys they had been talking to before had been effectively cut off.
Suddenly there were seven people in our circle including the two girls.
Pretty normal goings on for a Friday game night.
As I stood there talking and occasionally pulling on my beer, I became aware of someone standing behind me. They were a little too close for the number of people who were in the hotel…not enough to create such tight quarters.
I moved slightly to relieve the minor annoyance and pressure against my back but then a second later it was there again. So, I moved once more.
Then I felt the unmistakable pinch of a deliberate elbow in my ribs.
I slowly turned to look at the source of the pain and saw one of the guys the two girls had been speaking to before they’d broken off and joined our circle. He obviously wasn’t happy he was no longer talking to the women.
He was way shorter and smaller than my 185 cms 100kg frame and wore a club football jumper. It looked as if it might have fit him at some point but on that night it was too tight on him and was ridiculous.
“You bumped into me,” he said in an inflammatory tone.
“I actually didn’t,” I replied in a measured passive-type way.
“You did! You bumped into me.” Again but more aggressive.
And then it happened…
As I stood there looking at him, the most immense rage I have ever felt threatened to erupt.
I am not an aggressive or bumptious person and as it was happening, I kept thinking to myself, this isn’t right. The emotion was too intense for what had just happened.
I hadn’t said anything yet. I simply stared at the guy with what must have been the darkest expression of death in my eyes.
I am normally a very controlled, measured person but somehow I knew in that moment, if a fight erupted between us I would want to really hurt this person and if I started, I simply wouldn’t have been able to stop.
The intensity of anger made the skin on my arms burn and bubbled up in my torso rising to my chest. It was about to take over and there was nothing I could do about it.
People around us sensed the energy and what was going to happen. They moved to the side, creating a space around where we stood.
The guy took a step back and his three friends, anticipating a fight, and taking one look at me, dragged him away.
It’s been almost six years since that day. I have often replayed that moment in my mind and wondered what caused me to feel as I did. Recently, the answer occurred to me.
Obviously, I was going through the grieving process of losing a loved one and dealing with the sheer magnitude of raising two children while running a business, but when you are “attacked” by circumstances, there’s nothing tangible where you can attach your anger or resentment. There’s no focal point and your target is invisible.
In the moment with the guy at the hotel, finally, I could attach and attribute my anger to someone. Finally, I had a focal point for the rage that had been slowly welling up inside me. The rage accumulated like a steel bucket filling with acid over those months…without me even knowing it.
I never saw that guy again. And if I did, I wouldn’t recognize him anyway (although he may recognize me.)
The reason I wrote this is when things go wrong in our lives we often transfer the drama onto other people without knowing why. Regardless of if you can feel it or are aware of it when something happens to you, you need an outlet to discharge whatever is there. If you don’t find this outlet, your feelings can come out in ways and at times that are not good.
As men, we do this a lot. The water of our stress will find the path of least resistance to leak (or pour) out of us, depending on how stressed we are.
We get angrier at our children or our partners about something minor.
We go off the rails at a stranger for a minor impasse when we are driving.
This is why outlets like regular exercise, counseling, artistic expression or just regular catch ups with friends can be great ways to neutralize the charges that build up from time to time.
My outlet of choice and “sanity restorer” is surfing. It’s also why I started the Surf Lifestyle Business Retreat some years ago—to help other men who want to combine their love of business and surfing as a way to unwind.
If you’re a man, you will no doubt recognize some of the above and if that’s the case, I hope this helps.
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Photo credit: Getty Images