In Buddhism the three poisons are greed, hate, and delusion. Some versions have anger as one of the poisons. I’ve never had much difficulty with an explosive temper. Rather, my form of poison is a grinding arthritic frustration with the eventual effect of judging people very harshly in my mind, though less often in word or deed.

What I’ve come to see recently is that this frustration is not wholesome. This isn’t a result of some Buddhist catechism that I’ve internalized. It’s just plain seeing. Not seeing this has locked my mind in a rut for several years.

In our culture, anger is viewed as a very mild vice if it does not result in physical violence. In fact, many see it as a positive good that spurs them into action, jolting them from the ditch of lethargy onto a road that leads somewhere else. In the business and sports world, anger is not clearly separated from the aggressiveness that is often highly valued. It’s seen as energizing, mobilizing, and invigorating.

But in fact, what I saw clearly the other day is that it is not anything wholesome at all. My mind immediately and emphatically rebelled at the idea. “What about anger at injustice? What about anger at those causing harm? Anger about wrong? Anger about unnecessary pain and suffering? How can you avoid insipid complacency about things if anger doesn’t rouse you to action? The lack of outrage is a huge factor in many of the world and community problems today.” And so on and so on.

But when I clearly looked at things, and the impact of frustration on my life, the result was starkly negative and painful. I had not been successfully goaded into constructive action. The complexity of some situations foreclosed reasonable resolution. Some factors were simply not under my control at all, despite how frustrating, unjust, wrong, or painful they might be. The frustration had commandeered my attention and energy, painfully forcing focus on misery that was not subject to my will or remedy. In doing so, it excluded other possibilities that remained and obscured the brightness that flicks in and out of everyday life. Because the “big” important stuff couldn’t be remedied, my mind had become chronically heavy with a least of hint of sullenness and cynicism. Outrage reinforced my vanity that “I could see” and that “my principles were sound and just.”

The Buddhist teaching sharply conflicted with all of this. Anger was just anger - a painful poison. There was no good anger, beneficial anger, righteously justified anger - just poison and pain. My mind argued vehemently, but I saw that despite all the arguments, anger was a failed strategy, and a painful one at that. I became willing to let it go of it whether or not I had “just cause,” whether or not I had been wronged, whether or not the situation would be ameliorated, whether or not “right” would prevail. The relief was immediate and broad, and so far has remained generally in place. And the lockdown of frustration has been replaced by freedom and possibility. And while my sense of justice hasn’t been dulled, it currently does not have the cutting edge of pain that has often accompanied it in the past.

I’m not so naive as to believe that I won’t encounter this problem again. But having seen and experienced something once, it’s much easier to see it again. May I keep my eyes open.