Red-hot holy f*cking rage running through our veins, seething from our pores and seeping out from deep inside our bones.
Ancient holy f*cking rage we’ve carried for our ancestors, carried for our brothers and our sisters, and now carry for the inner child peering out our eye sockets at the shit storm of a world we’ve created for ourselves.
What spark lit this torch of rage inside of me? What slow burning flame of rage sizzles inside of you?
Before our first cup of coffee, we’ve read headlines of war, destruction, and violence; viewed images of horror, families and animals displaced by natural disasters and seen photos of our earth torched, leveled, and raped. Then, as we turned on the news, interviews with elated reporters- their shiny faces frozen in smiles- fills our ears as they display live footage of awe-inspiring terror.
If I were speaking, right now is when I’d let the mic go silent long enough to make you in the audience squirm.
Red hot holy rage twists up our spines like slithering snakes log-jamming our throats as we want to scream for all of our sisters, scream for all of our brothers, and scream for the children who stand to inherit this mess.
But rage doesn’t stop there. Once unleashed, our rage turns towards politicians dropping the bar so far down that we’ve become embarrassed to let our children watch the news, live streams filled with hatred and blows so low, you could sweep the dirty floors into their slack-jawed faces at the end of a night.
Yes, rage runs through me and it’s running through you. You may hide it somewhere deep inside trying your best to keep it at a low simmer as you go about your daily life, yet it releases in traffic and snaps its mouth open at the slightest hint of what might be an insult or an insinuation from someone you work or sleep with.
Your rage might be out of sight and in denial, but it’s right there below your skin, pulsing at the surface ready to burst at the next perceived slight this world delivers.
You see, your rage is holy and your rage is righteous. Rage is only wrong when stuffed and projected upon the innocents who happen to walk into your trap of I’m not angry martyrdom.
Religion teaches that anger is bad and New-Age spiritualism teaches that anger’s a low vibrational emotion that thwarts any hope of manifesting our latest affirmation. But anger is holy my dear. She’s the hot red blood that must escape in order for a festering wound to heal.
As the moon rose last night, I said a silent prayer to let go of what had been stopping me in life. My ego felt pacified as I thought I’d set the stage for transformation I naively craved.
Instead, that cold bitch moon, much like a loving grandmother who passed the spoon of bitter medicine, unleashed Pandora’s box of ancient rage hiding inside my belly. An ice hot rage which had been silently simmering for centuries inside my ancestors, awaited its escape from my DNA.
My prayers for freedom were answered by a cold wind raking me clean from the inside, scraping my ribs raw, and making me honest with myself. It took my breath away as my vision and ability to reason escaped out the back door with my denial.
The anger inside of me had no face to rest upon – I had long ago spent time forgiving those who had trespassed against me.
There was no situation in which to sit my anger down for a while – life had been peaceful for me.
This rage was beyond labels and beyond explanation. This rage was so white-hot glowing that to try to contain it would have burned my bones to ashes before I could pull out a journal to fake my way through understanding it.
This rage wanted to run free like the wind my prayers for transformation had traveled upon before landing on the ears of the Divine.
Trying to move the energy through my normal routes was futile. This rage demanded respect. This rage demanded nature. This rage demanded 100% of my attention, not some pacified attempt to once again contain it in the neat package society dictates we must in order to be happy functioning adults.
I sat on the earth with my core pressing against her under my skirt while the brother sitting next to me howled in primal release to the sky.
Needing to feel the primal pulse of the earth against my sit bones and feel the remnants of the radiant sun penetrate my bare skin, I wanted to feel her stones in my hands, hear the night sounds above me, and disconnect from the superficial daily world.
I needed to escape from the manufactured world that tells me it’s not healthy to let the sun hit my face, to let the bacteria of the soil enter my body or proper for a woman to sit bare-assed against the earth panting with rage, breathless with chest pains as silent screams rolled liquid down her face.
I watched the man next to me cry out his rage with such magnitude, his voice filled the silent night with a painful frequency that made me think his ears would burst open with blood leaking from his heart.
And then, in far less time than my dramatic ego would have expected, our rage melted into the earth. The rage that had demanded 100% of our attention, blocking out reason like clouds on a bright white sunny day, slipped away as quickly as it had arisen.
And peace arrived.
As I reflected upon the festering wound my anger had bled clean, there was a sweet pink innocence left in its place. An innocence we all get to miraculously reclaim each time we have the courage to let our rage seep out.
We have tried our best to put on happy faces, go about our business and live our lives as happy responsible tidy adults. But rage festers below the surface when it has no healthy outlet.
It appears as middle-aged women turning bitter, belly fat that won’t go away, and cancers eating us from the inside.
Only when we can authentically claim our rage, feel it and let it pass through us do we really step into the light and power of who we truly are- open-hearted, loving, happy men and women.
Hiding rage because it’s messy is a lie.
If we’re going to be honest and authentic, we have to get in touch with the rage that resides inside the belly of all of us.
The awakening of the Divine, the truly loving, powerful, peaceful, all-encompassing Divine, requires a clear belly in which to reside.
Republished and modified with permission Daily Transformations
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