Hold onto your temper

T E M P E R

Latin Origin—temperare: “mingle, restrain”

Old English Origin—temprian: “bring something into the required condition by mixing it with something else”

T E M P E R I N G

(in metallurgy)

“The process of improving the characteristics of a metal… by heating it to a high temperature, though below the melting point, then cooling it, usually in air. The process has the effect of toughening by lessening brittleness and reducing internal stresses…” - Britannica Encyclopedia

“Tempering is an ancient heat-treating technique… The process was used throughout the ancient world, from Asia to Europe and Africa. Many different methods and cooling baths for quenching have been attempted during ancient times, from quenching in urine, blood, or metals like mercury or lead, but the process of tempering has remained relatively unchanged over the ages. Tempering was often confused with quenching and, often, the term was used to describe both techniques.” - Wikipedia

The origins of the word “temper” came to my attention recently, and they stirred some thoughts that I have since found useful. As the definitions and annotations shared above help us to understand, the term temper came to us from metallurgy. It was a process used with alloys, to reduce brittleness and internal stressors and produce a more resilient, strong metal.

Well, up until this recent revelation, I’d had the habit of using the word temper essentially as a synonym for mood. For example, I might have said someone had a “good” or “bad” temper, and I would have essentially meant that they had a “good” or “bad” mood. Furthermore, while I may have occasionally a referenced a good temper, I noticed that I mostly associate the word with a negative connotation. By and large, I’ve heard the word temper used thusly: “They have a bad temper.” Or, as Belle iconically declares, “Well you should learn to control your temper!” This usage, in particular, demonstrates a departure from the origins of the word. Controlling a temper implies the temper is something alive/dynamic with a will of its own. Like the “temper” is a villain living inside of us and some people really need to get that villain under control.

But the metallurgical origins of the word evoke a different understanding of the concept temper, and I have found this new perspective useful, hence this blog post where I generously share it with you for your benefit. (Thank me later.) The origins of the word shift the implications. Instead of saying “control your temper” we should be saying “don’t lose your temper.” Temper is a good thing. It is a process of being able to mingle two or more emotions to produce a better outcome. For example, being able to feel angry that your sibling just snatched your toy, but tempering that anger by simultaneously holding onto a feeling of affection and love for your sibling.

Again, temper is not a villain living inside you and me.

It is a useful skill.

When we lose our ability to be tempered, that is when the “villain” behavior may show up, through outbursts that are characterized by singular, unmixed emotion (typically of anger, in the case of villainy). I found it enlightening that an untempered person will have singular, unmixed emotions besides anger. They may have an overwhelming experience of sadness, fear, or excitement and pleasure. The point is, they do not have the strengths of nuance or "mixing" that tempering offers us. Another way to look at this conversation is that tempering is an essential skill in maturity. The untempered experience is an immature, more primal experience. It can turn on a dime, pushed and pulled by circumstances. To lose your temper is to lose your ability to navigate life’s ups and downs with any poise, grace, or governing perspective.

I’m embarrassed to confess how relevant this conversation has been. But hey, what’s a blog without personal confessions?

Like Beast, I have often acted out of impulsive, untempered emotion. Ok, maybe that’s a little misleading because I’m usually not a moody monster to people. But I’ve had my moments, and I definitely relate to feeling like my moods are very strong and very singular. I’ve always described myself as having “very high highs” and “very low lows.” When I’m excited, I can lift the whole room effortlessly—I’m ecstatic, riding the high of unhindered jubilee like its some wild unicorn dashing over rainbows in a technicolor sky. Likewise, I’ve noticed that I am absolutely devastated by disappointment—and when I say that, I mean a disappointment can tip me into a very serious depressive episode that may last for days, weeks, months, or even years. My emotions are big and dominant and sometimes lacking nuance. There’s no reasoning with myself when I’m in the throes of one of these big feelings. Try your best, but there’s probably nothing you can say to cool my excitement, nor comfort my despair. I had started to see that as just part of my unique existence. Maybe it was my personality. Maybe it was actually my "superpower," as the self-helpers would say. I’m now revisiting the whole conversation, and looking to gain the benefits of tempering.

Because here’s the thing: being untempered sucks.

It’s left me anxious and inept. Seriously, think how limiting it is to have disappointment cut the legs out from under you? It’s left me living smaller, asking for less, dreaming less, reaching for less. When I’m untempered, I’m left in the land of daydreams because I'm too vulnerable to try and fail. Can you relate?

Back to the etymology for a moment, and this may just be my author-brain speaking, but I found it keenly fascinating that the metallurgical terms “tempering” and “quenching” got mixed up in ancient writings. What are the odds, but it seems like we’ve also performed this transposition in our modern use of the word. When we say, “control your temper” we are really saying “quench that emotion,” are we not? Fascinating overlap there. Again, maybe that’s just my author-brain being tickled by semantics, but I found it a little magical.

In summary, temper is not a villain or a wrong emotion that needs to be controlled and tamed; temper/tempering is actually a useful skill that comes with maturity that allows us to mix more than one emotion, to employ the balancing effects of nuance and ambivalence in our lives.

So let's ditch emotional brittleness for the strengths of temperance.

Instead of quenching our emotions, let's mingle them.

Instead of losing our temper, let's hold on to it.

Sincerely, HH