(This is another in my series on dealing with anger.)

I’ve long been interested in anger, probably because I’ve felt too much of it in my life. I am much less angry than I was, partly because you do get wiser as you get older, and partly because of decades of therapy.

I started getting angry when I was three, and anger has always made its way into my heart and soul, it was embedded there.

I got sick of myself and the damage I was causing to others. I recognized anger as the poison it is when it comes to communicating or resolving difficult issues.

Just look at the news.

My work online has helped me deal with anger and learn how to accept it, recognize it, and move past it.

And I must,  because if you write openly online, angry people will find you, they have better hearing than donkeys when it comes to anger.

Anger does attract anger, just as love attracts love, and good attracts good. Sometimes I get confused; I’m dealing with all of these things at the same time.

So I’m sharing this brief but conversation I had with a woman recently who claimed to be a reader of my books and blog. The messages I get are a learning tool for me and perhaps for you.

This person did not appreciate my buying Zinnia, another innocent cause in the crossfire of human aggression.

I’m not repeating this to argue with her or anybody else, or even to judge her,  but it helps me to learn about anger, and it helps me to continue to work to shed it and, to some extent, accept it.

Anger is a part of me and will always be a part of me.

It solves nothing, accomplishes nothing, does no good that I can see.

I do accept it and own it. The more I work on it, the better I get, the more peaceful, the closer to the spiritual kind of life I hope to lead one day. All of us feel anger at some point, so there must be a reason it is inside of us.

I am assuming this is a woman, messages like this, curiously, almost always come from women. I suspect it is because they empathize with needy creatures more than men do. She hid behind the ID “Facebook User.”

The message came after I posted one of those cute Zinnia photos that go viral every time.

Our country is puppy starved.

She wrote:

“I’m sorry to have to unfollow you, but I find it sad that you went out and got a puppy from a breeder when there are so many adoptable dogs and puppies out there that need to be saved from euthanasia due to overcrowding. Yes, the puppy is cute. How many more will die today because of that breeder?”

More and more, these kinds of messengers are anonymous, for obvious reasons.

I replied quickly, and without much thought:

“I’m glad you are leaving… People who presume to tell other people what kind of dog they should get are not friends of people or dogs. Your message feels somewhat creepy to me, good luck to you, please don’t return.”

By my measure, this was pretty restrained. I was being sincere. I didn’t want her to hang around.

My policy is to run off people who post cruel or hurtful messages, this is my blog, my Facebook Page, and I don’t want hostile people posting anywhere in my realm. I won’t surrender my space to them.

She got ugly in a hurry.

“Well, you are a real ass,” she replied. “I was as sensitive as I could be, but you’re a real jerk. I didn’t tell you what to do if you would read what was written. And I intend to pass around your remarks to keep people away from such a judgmental person as you have shown yourself to be. Shame on you.”

Hmmm..we have different notions of sensitivity, I supposed.

Here’s what I have learned from these kinds of exchanges about my anger. Mostly, I don’t reply, I delete the messages or move on. Nobody needs to read stuff like that.

When somebody accuses my breeder or me of killing dogs, I find that hard to brush off, as I love dogs, and they are such a huge part of my life. The same thing is true of my breeder. She doesn’t do it for the money. She works to promote health and temperament.

There is no crime in that.

With people like  “Facebook User” are challenged, they invariably flee, usually in a cloud of anger and outrage that anyone would dare to challenge them. They feel aggrieved,  mistreated, misunderstood.

They always assume the high moral ground, but they never seem to want to stand and argue or explain. They run away before I can get to reply or ban them or run them off.

“I’m not going anywhere,” posted some nasty messager when I suggested she go somewhere else. Trust me, I said, if you post another nasty message you will be going somewhere, I will make it happen on my pages.” It didn’t occur to her that it was up to me. She went away.

But I wasn’t angry. I was just clear.

They are outraged because any criticism is heresy; it can’t be dealt with.

I sense that they don’t expect me to reply, or if I do, it’s to apologize or ask for forgiveness. I’m not all that much better at this than the President of the United States, but I am somewhat better than he is.

And I want to be much better yet.

When I asked for help in buying textbooks for Bishop Maginn, (thanks, we got the books), I found this message from Ron waiting for me in the morning:

“This sounds like a ridiculous school. They seriously think that it’s ok to charge $7,000 a year for tuition and not offer TEXTBOOKS? What are they teaching there? This is supposedly an alternative to the (free, highly regarded academically) … public schools? Sheesh!”

How is one to thoughtfully respond to so angry and inaccurate – and irate – a message?

Is this someone who wants to talk and have a meaningful conversation about the choices parents have to make between public and private education? Do schools that can’t afford to have curriculums that send kids to Harvard have a right to exist and be supported?

On the other hand, I believe that people who do this to other people – I know many people who would be deeply hurt by this message and who are not as strong or experienced as I am- should be challenged and called out.

We are suffering from argument fatigue in our country. Even getting a puppy is a controversial and bitterly divisive issue. No wonder people run from talking to each other and retreat to like-minded communities.

But to be silent is to enable these truly angry people, and to encourage them to think that it is okay to accuse animal people they don’t know and will never meet of genocide or murder.

Angry and reckless people can do a lot of damage online; if Ron were a bit more articulate, he could get some people to stop contributing to a beautiful school like Bishop Maginn.

Sometimes, there is no point in responding. Why get angrier? Why spread the anger, one blog reader asked me? Because I’m human, I said. And I am not afraid to admit it.

I’ve learned to respond to people when there is a more significant point, or when they are attacking a person or place that I care about, like our excellent breeder, or Bishop Maginn High School, or the Mansion.

I’ve learned not to call people names, not to get personal, not to take the bait. Sometimes I fail, but more and more, I’m succeeding. I no longer like the sound and feel of angry Jon; it no longer feels like me or the person I wish to be. That’s different.

What I learn again and again is that I need to always remember I’m talking to a human being, not a message. People who send cruel messages have no sense they are talking to another human; it’s just one position to another.

Dealing with anger is a process, not a decision. It takes time and work, and the work is never done.

A student in my writing workshop told me last week she gets very upset when people buy dogs rather than adopt them. She wants to write about that.

She spoke to me in an honest and open way. Her empathy and compassion were evident; I could see them. I might not have seen them in a Facebook message.

Nothing about what she said made me angry or made me feel judged. I didn’t tell her she was wrong, or feel the need to argue with her. I wanted to help her make her case.

We were right in the same place, human to human, looking at one another. We were able to talk about how she felt and how I felt.  “Facebook User” was quite different.

In my talking therapy, I faced up to the rage I have carried from my earliest days in this world and brought into every part of my life.

That includes my work, my friendships,  my first wife, my daughter, my health, sometimes even my dogs.

Knowing it is there and understanding where it comes from changes everything.

They call it anger management, but that’s a foolish title,  it is something much more profound. It is about acceptance and self-awareness. And it is taking responsibility. Therapy helps, but the spiritual path and the ability to finally love helped me the most.

I need to face and acknowledge the worst parts of myself, in my writing, in my life.

My love for my dogs forced me to curb my anger and think about it, rather than put it on them. Hurting my daughter shocked me into changing.

My therapy helped me to understand why it was there, and to accept it and forgive myself for it, as long as I wanted to do better.

Maria’s entry into my life changed my anger for real and for good.

My love for her and hers for me gave me the most powerful motive in the world to get better and face what needed to be faced in my life.

When you love someone else, you want to treat them lovingly and thoughtfully, I could not bear to harm Maria in any way, and she has given me the same gift.

Maria has dealt with enough anger in her life; she is not going to get any more from me, not beyond the usual irritations of marriage. Neither of us simple.

Loving is in itself healing as well as nourishing; it melts grievance and resentment.

So on balance, experiencing and de-constructing these messages does me good.

I am a communicator, and I know that anger is the poorest and cheapest way to communicate; it is always a lost opportunity to listen, learn or teach. It always signals a failure of some kind, even when it’s justified.  I’m a writer; I want to persuade through words and deeds, not insults or name-calling.

Sadly, the animal rights movement, like our political parties, don’t practice talking to people, they talk at them.

“Facebook User” wasn’t interested in dialogue any more than Republicans and Democrats are. She was talking only to herself. As a result, I did the same thing.

I’ve learned that listening is hard, but essential, whether you like the messages or not. And I’ve learned that empathy is as much about people I don’t like as it is people I love.

I am still learning about my anger, and about how to deal with it, and how to manage the passion in others, now that I am open and thus a target.

I appreciate being able to share it; I hope this series is useful to others. I feel myself growing and learning.

Every time I write something like this, I grow and learn a little bit more. I’m working on it and will be working on it for the rest of my life.

Anger is not aspiritual, it can be the most spiritual thing in the world if I can be authentic about it, and never, ever,  lie to myself.

Or to you.