The Philosophy of Rage: What Space Does My Rage Occupy?
Originally written and published 08.16.20, revised and edited on 05.04.21
I decided that August 13th, 2020 is the last time I would ever allow my wrath to take a negative form. In order to avoid repeating my past mistakes, I have to understand them. As such, I am currently studying my rage.
While working in my journal, I came up with a few initial questions to guide my research.
1. What space does my rage occupy?
2. Am I allowed to give it form?
3. What is the reality of being this angry as a woman?
4. What does conquering rage look like?
Using these questions as prompts and guides, I will be writing on and making art about this subject to answer these questions and others that come up as a result of trying to find answers that satisfy me. This will also allow me to identify, illustrate, and mark the forms my rage has taken in the past and can take in the future. I have found that the better my relationship to myself and understanding of myself is, the better I am in all areas of my life. Facing yourself can be daunting, downright terrifying even, but if we want to own ourselves and control our lives it is the only way.
What space does my rage occupy?
I feel it most in my head, my throat, and my hands but I know it lives in my veins.
Rage is deeply woven into the fabric of my very DNA, every fiber of my being is touched with this particular shade of red. In its most mild moments, it playfully tints my world and allows me to maintain my charming sarcastic nature and an air of nonchalance. In its worst forms however, it is blood from deep wounds mixed with fear-sweat streaming into my eyes, too thick to see through and burning the whole time. This state of being is my inheritance, anger is the gift I was given by my ancestors and parents. When it comes to this feeling, I cannot control the “if” — I could never promise someone that I won’t be angry. However, I can control the how and why. I am able to choose what I stain with this pigment. I do not have to let myself give wrath a negative form. I do not have to give it back to the person who gave it to me, either.
Emotions are energy and information. Energy does not die, it merely converts and information becomes knowledge when we use it to our advantage. So then the question branches off and I ask myself how can I use this energy? What can I convert it into being?
I can offer it as fuel for progress. I do not need to lower myself to profane earthly wrath by seeking revenge. Who am I to decide what form vengeance takes, anyway? It is a pure act of ego to seek revenge because for the moment, you believe you know what is best, what this act will do, and how it will affect the future. We turn into judge, jury, and executioner in moments of heat. Anger will always feel righteous, but we are not omnipotent Gods, so any form of retribution we enact on our own is doomed to be seen as petty eventually.
I can create something. This has always been the go-to, even when I am only creating misery or violence. On the one hand, you could argue that creating these things is positive because it is an addition. I must counter that like this: when you give wrath to another person you are actually taking away their right to feel safe, to make mistakes, and to learn from them in a productive way that can be passed on without traumatic experience. With that in mind, what is created from my rage must add something useful to the world and/or my life. “Something” will often be beauty, love, joy, or knowledge. I can make art, write a story, or tell the people I love some jokes–anything to transmute the energy into something more useful and less senseless than what its seductive voice whispers to me in a wanting tone.
Again, emotions are energy. Their effects disrupt, ripple, and do not stop. This is why giving wrath to someone is now taboo to me. The wrath I give to someone else is going to be stored, maybe even amplified, and then sent back out into the world; typically at another person. This is the cycle I am trying to escape. This is the game I no longer wish to play. This is a cycle of assailants and victims, where to exist inside of it at all makes you both things, regardless of percentage of either attribute specifically. It is a cruel and sick game where the only way to win is not to play it at all.
In this game of hatred and rage, the score is kept just like in tennis: zero equals Love. If you are forced to play the game of wrath and pain, then the rules should mimic that of golf: you want to make the least moves possible and the lowest score wins.
When I am slighted, offended, or otherwise being provoked to anger I can now forgive the person responsible with this new perspective. I can take a moment to think about their behavior and my own before I respond to it. I can be more understanding of someone’s actions and instead of adding to the amount of suffering in the world or my life, I can instead create positive and productive things. I am able to meet the world with a warm blanket of red compassion rather than a human-rust stained weapon. I can avoid breaking the golden rule in both thought and action. I can and will wish peace upon someone whose actions are indicative of being stuck in that cycle of victim and violent-offender. I can speak my wish for peace over their life because I know they have never, and probably will never, know what peace feels like at all.
