Got Anger?

Anger...I've been attempting to write about this for days, as almost every one of my clients - and even I - have felt its flames this past week. But somehow, every time I'd sit down to write, I'd get distracted.

That makes sense, too. Most of us have found ways to distract ourselves from anger, bury it, or compartmentalize it. Anger can be uncomfortable, frightening, even overwhelming, especially when we've experienced what can happen when it erupts without restraint.

But ignoring anger doesn't necessarily make it go away. It may show up indirectly - in passive-aggressive comments or actions - or build until it comes out with an intensity we didn't intend.

Using the metaphor of fire, I think about our relationship with the earth, too. Here in California, we've witnessed devastating fires shaped by a complex convergence of climate change, land-management practices, development, weather, and other factors. I can't help but see a parallel in what happens when we become disconnected from what is happening around us and fail to pay attention until something becomes impossible to ignore.

Coming back to humans, we can allow anger to burn slowly inside us, hidden or consciously compartmentalized. Some of us become remarkably good at doing that. But that kind of disconnection can carry a real cost.

Why not feel it, you might ask?

Well, first of all, it often doesn’t feel good to sit with anger – it’s uncomfortable so we find ways to distract ourselves from it, push it away, or sometimes disconnect from what we're feeling altogether.

We may also have good reasons to fear anger. We've seen what can happen when anger becomes aggression or violence. Enormous harm has been done under the cover of righteousness, and violence continues to be inflicted disproportionately on women, children, and people who are marginalized or treated as less worthy of protection.

So it makes sense that many of us have learned to associate anger with danger.

Women, in particular, have often been indoctrinated into the culture of the "good girl" - taught to be agreeable, accommodating, and attentive to other people's feelings. We may learn early that expressing anger risks judgment, rejection, conflict, or someone else's anger in return. And for some women, expressing anger has been - and may still be - dangerous. We learn to question whether we have the right to say what we need, object when something doesn't feel right, or simply be angry.

And sometimes even spiritual communities reinforce the message that anger is something we should have transcended. Spiritual bypassing can turn difficult emotions into evidence that we're doing something wrong - that if we were more enlightened, conscious, evolved, or "healed," we wouldn't be feeling them in the first place.

I call bullshit.

I feel anger rise in my own chest when I think about all of this - how many of us have learned to sublimate, deny, or override what we're feeling, and how much pain that can create. As I write, I notice a heavy, burning weight pressing down, constricting my throat, chest, and solar plexus.

I stop and bring my attention to the sensations as I breathe. I notice the heaviness, the burning, the constriction. I breathe more deeply into my rib cage, noticing my ribs expanding outward through my sides and back with each breath.

I pay attention to how my body moves - expanding and contracting - and then return my attention to the sensations of anger. After a while, I notice more space and less intensity. I also feel more connected to myself because I've stopped long enough to pay attention to what is happening.

Over time, I've found that this kind of practice can help me stay with anger without immediately reacting from it. Sometimes the intensity decreases. Sometimes the anger is still very much there, but I have more room around it and more capacity to choose what I want to do with it.

But I've come to understand that the goal isn't always to make the anger disappear - sometimes anger is important. It can mobilize us when something needs to change. It can give us the energy to set a boundary, speak up, protect ourselves or someone else, leave a situation, confront an injustice, or take action after we've been tolerating something for far too long.

For someone who has learned to accommodate, appease, stay quiet, or continually put other people's needs ahead of their own, access to anger can even be an important part of reclaiming their voice and agency.

The question, then, isn't simply how do I calm this anger down? It's more what is this anger telling me, what is happening in and around me, and how do I want to use the energy that's there?

Anger can be a powerful source of energy. It can bring motivation and a sense of urgency, moving us toward action when something needs our attention. That energy isn't inherently destructive. What matters is what we do with it.

When I can stay connected to myself while I'm angry, I have more choice in how I respond. I can still access the energy of the anger without having to act from its most reactive edge. In the example above, I was able to focus that energy toward something constructive - finishing this article and putting words to something I cared deeply about.

And sometimes it can feel really good to express anger. There's a release in finally saying what you've been holding back, raising your voice, moving your body, or allowing yourself to feel the force of something you've spent years suppressing.

But there's a difference between allowing anger expression and repeatedly using rage or aggression as a way of discharging it. Those patterns can become reinforcing - even addictive in the sense that we begin to rely on the intensity, release, or sense of power they provide. Over time, that can become a destructive cycle, particularly when other people are being harmed by it.

The other extreme can carry costs, too. Continually suppressing or overriding anger may contribute to emotional and physical strain or even states of dis-ease over time. And sometimes what looks like an "anger problem" is more complicated than anger itself.

I was taught in graduate school the old psychodynamic idea that depression can be understood, in part, as anger turned inward. The relationship between anger and depression is far more complex than that formulation suggests, but I've seen clinically how closely the two can sometimes be intertwined. I've worked with people who came to therapy because of their anger only to discover, as we became more curious about it, how much sadness, depression, grief, fear, hurt, or anxiety was there too.

Anger is worth listening to, but we can't assume in advance what it means.

So how do we begin listening to anger without either pushing it away or letting it take over?

One place to start is by noticing what anger feels like in your body. Does your body get hot? Does your heart pound? Do you notice pressure in your chest or head? Tightness in your jaw? An urge to move, yell, push away, or do something? What happens for you?

See if you can become curious about the sensations without immediately needing to change them. You might notice that they shift as you pay attention. The intensity may decrease, increase, move somewhere else, or stay exactly where it is. There isn't one way your body is supposed to respond.

And paying attention to the body doesn't mean ignoring your thoughts, memories, or what's happening around you. They may all be part of understanding your anger. Does a memory arise? An image? A thought? Is there something happening in a relationship that needs your attention? Has a boundary been crossed? Are you frightened, hurt, grieving, anxious, overwhelmed, or exhausted? Is something happening right now that really isn't okay?

Sometimes turning inward may not be what you need at all. You may need to move your body, orient to your surroundings, talk with someone you trust, take some space, speak up, or take action.

The point is to become curious enough to learn something about your anger rather than deciding ahead of time what it means.

As you create a little more space around the immediate reaction, some of the energy bound up in that anger may become available to you in a different way. You may have more choice about what comes next and how you want to use it. Maybe the anger needs expression. Maybe you need to move. Maybe there's grief that needs attention. Maybe a boundary needs to be set. Maybe that energy is exactly what you need to finally do something that needs to be done.

So, what are you angry about??