Following the advice of Golden Zen, I was planning to write letters to those who have wronged me as part of the process of “letting it go.” It’s a method that has worked well for me in the past, even if I do set off the smoke alarm when I burn them in the kitchen sink. Then I decided to write a template that other readers could use as a basis for their own letters. But I couldn’t get farther than this:

Dear [insert name or epithet here]:

Why? Because every dispute is particular to the people involved. Any template I composed would be so bland as to be useless.

Instead, I’d like to write about how to get to the point of actually having fewer problems to let go of. I am troubled, when someone says or does things I don’t like, by an inability to respond right then and there. In other words, to “say exactly what my heart prompts me,” as a fortune cookie once advised me.

I end up feeling like a coward, and to be quite blunt, I think it IS cowardly of me not to respond. I think it stems from a desire to be “nice,” but “cowardly” is the more accurate description.

(For many people, anger is deeply troubling. I have often felt guilty about simply being angry, as if the emotion itself were toxic. There’s a lot of self-help these days that says exactly that, that anger is toxic, but I don’t agree. I believe anger, like fear, is a useful emotion of warning.)

What happens next? I go home and stew about it, for days, sometimes weeks or months. If it bothers me enough, I will eventually bring it up again with the “offending party,” who has, by that time, completely forgotten about the incident that’s been vexing me.

And when I open my mouth to let out those first words, I can feel myself flush with the anger I’ve been holding in. My voice often quivers because I’m still so upset and I feel stupid about it.

I am convinced my life would go more smoothly if I would just spit out my anger or disgust or whatever, in as many words as necessary, and then sit back and see what happens. A few nasty fights would ensue, but the air would be cleared, and I wouldn’t have to beat myself up later because I was too chicken to react honestly.

And perhaps, as I became more comfortable with expressing myself right after I’m offended, I would become less vehement in my reactions. A woman once told me that I “go for the jugular.” That was a long time ago, in college to be exact, but I don’t believe I’ve changed as much as I should have. I’m certain that I treat people that way because I hold things in.

I realize the above is not exactly what Golden Zen meant by “letting go.” But I don’t believe letting go has to involve a Buddha-like renunciation of emotion (and I’m not saying that’s what she meant either). The lovely ritual on this blog involves describing what needs to be let go of—all I’m talking about is doing that more immediately.

I’m interested in what readers think. Am I just making excuses to yell at people? Is it gutless not to express yourself in the moment? Is it socially destructive to think every wrong must be addressed? Or even half of them? Should I just get over myself?