You know the phrase, “Seeing red?” Unfortunately, this idiom frequently describes my vision these days. I continuously operate out of a danger section of my brain—affectionately referred to as the “Red Zone”—one that is constantly yelling at me to be not only cautious, but paranoid… Beyond firm, I am harsh, unable to see past that very moment wherein an extreme reaction is deemed not merely appropriate, but necessary. And it is not okay.
The world is on fire right now, so this mentality feels somewhat justified. And I say that as someone of immense privilege whose quality of life, while interrupted, has not faltered during the global pandemic, natural disasters, political upheavals, healthcare attacks, and overall human rights violations that presently plague our society.
I will admit, I sat down to write something lighthearted today, but it simply does not seem appropriate with everything falling apart around us. The last thing I want to do is be another white woman trying to tie a bow around the pain and tragedy so many are facing by sharing a sweet anecdote or funny quip. Yet I cannot help but question: how do we progress out of such sorrow? What fine line do we walk between staying angry enough to make waves and protecting our spirits from breaking out of despair?
In my glimpses of clarity amid the chaos, I keep coming back to this idea of holding more than one emotion at the same time. I can be mad AND happy. Grateful AND ambitious. Heartbroken AND hopeful. BOTH things can be true. Well, everywhere except the Red Zone, that is.
In the Red Zone, I am unable to control anything, as I have forfeited my mind, body, and yes, mouth, to one, intense, solitary mood. Look, when a bear is attacking me, and I exclusively need to run for my life, I will gladly lean into the Red Zone. It can be lifesaving! But most of the time (even in excruciatingly unprecedented times as these), my Red Zone does not need to be in command. Engaged? Absolutely. But not authoritative.
So how do we give the “Green Light” to leaving the Red Zone? For starters, I am a firm believer in educating oneself. Keeping up with current news and research to stay informed, as well as learning from those whose reality differs from mine, is vital to personal growth (and also just being a responsible citizen).
We also have to be willing to decompress. As much as I lament over my fury and melancholy, a part of me craves that rush of adrenaline. The Red Zone is toxic in that it makes a convincing argument to reign supreme. By taking a step back and reflecting on the actual environment in which we are inhabiting, the Red Zone’s power is stripped down to a factor, not the focus, of our decisions. Prayer, meditation, journaling, confiding in a loved one, taking a walk…you know the drill.
Lastly, we have to be willing to apologize. I cannot tell you how many times I have blurted something out in a rage or snapped to a ruthless judgement, then immediately regretted my actions. My therapist often asks, “Would you rather be right or in right relationship?” Ninety-nine percent of the time, I lean toward the latter, yet my instinct leaps to the desire for proving others wrong. Patience may be a virtue, but I know myself well enough to be aware of my struggles with it. However, the Red Zone does not allow for practice; if I am to aim for perfection—or, at least, improvement—I must humble myself enough to move beyond its grips.
I know I initially declared I would not reach for a content conclusion, but I will say this: My Red Zone brings much anguish, yet through this turmoil, I have looked to God for guidance more and more. I wish I could snap my fingers and make the hate inside me dissipate, but I know I can always turn to God for peace. He created me and knows me and loves me despite my Red Zone. Perhaps we are meant to not ignore our Red Zones, but channel them through God’s almighty power for good…Just as Christ forgives us, so we are given the Green Light to forgive others.
Rachel Fisher 