Are you angry about everything?
Another unnecessary, endless war. Cost of living and gas prices increased. In fact, the wealthiest 1% of Americans own more than the bottom 90% combined, or the outright corruption that occurs in the White House. As the old saying goes, if you’re not angry, you’re not paying attention.
But what does spirituality teach us about how to deal with anger? Is it wise to try to let go? Should we practice imagining clouds gently passing by and take deep breaths?
I don’t think so. First, things are not that simple! When I’m angry, there’s too much going on inside me to pretend I’m full of peace and kindness. Additionally, this kind of mental bypassing is both offensive and disrespectful. When we try to force a feeling, we fundamentally misunderstand the gifts that anger gives us: deeper insight into our pain, and true compassion that enables us to take informed, righteous action.
That said, I also don’t want to walk around like a fire-breathing dragon or wallow in resentment to no end. So I reached out to some trusted religious voices to see which spiritual traditions can teach us how to deal with anger effectively and how it can give us insight without overwhelming us.
Beneath your anger is a broken heart
Lama Rod Owens is a Buddhist teacher in Atlanta and the author of Love and Anger: Liberation through Anger. The first thing he told me was that we have to acknowledge our anger. “A lot of us don’t actually know what anger feels like. We just react to it,” he said. It certainly sounds like it. I’m still learning to notice the physical signs of anger: My head gets hot; My stomach tightened; my throat filled with screams I could only hold back.
This physicality is central to Owens’ definition of anger: the mental and physical tension that produces aggression. This aggressive reaction has gotten me into trouble—when I snap at my husband or give devilish looks to people who do wear headphones but choose not to use them. If I’m not careful, I don’t even notice how angry I am until my rage boils over.
Noticing this tension can be tricky, Owens says, because “anger is something a lot of people experience, especially women and girls.” Simply acknowledging that anger is building inside you can be radical. Owens is very careful with his language here. instead of saying we yes When we are angry, He encourages us by saying that we Feel Angry. “I know it’s very subtle,” he explains, “but when people start thinking about an experience rather than exist Something, it really opens up space. “
This space provides us with the resources we need to take the next step. Surely this is meant to take away our anger?
No, he argued. The way to liberation is through Anger—not “get over it.” Owens learned this through personal experience and through the wisdom teachings of the Buddhist tradition. As a queer black man living in America, he has a lot to be angry about (while also having to overcome the harmful stereotype that, as a black man, he is inherently angry). But, he writes in the book, “I wasn’t angry because of racism or homophobia or anything else. In fact, I was deeply hurt.” Through rigorous meditation, Owens realized that his anger was a secondary emotion. Meaning, having a major experience Down anger. The main experience is one of pain and sadness, and a deeper sense of heartbreak.
“It’s like you’re not just angry, you’re experiencing anger against the world. You’re hurt by the world, you’re sad by the world, you make the world sad,” he said.
Learning to live with your anger will change things over time. When Owens practiced noticing and naming his anger instead of trying to push it away or act aggressive, he found a way to live with his anger.
His Buddhist heritage taught him to view anger simply as energy. Like any energy, he learned to experience it rather than react to it: “In Buddhism we think about the essence [of anger] Emptiness…it’s just energy that can be shaped or misinterpreted by consciousness. “
To be clear, he said, “the anger didn’t go away,” but Owens experienced enough space around it that allowed him to speak of the heartbreak underneath it.
Once he was able to do this, he noticed an influx of a completely different feeling.
Move from anger to tender compassion
Nate DeGroot sees the same connection. DeGroot is a Detroit rabbi and a director of the Shalom Center. In His Jewish tradition, anger is not just something humans experience—God gets angry too. For example, think of Noah building an ark to avoid the flood that would punish humanity. But, DeGroot explains, God’s wrath lasts only a moment.
In fact, in Jewish tradition, the Talmud records people questioning how long God’s wrath lasted – some claim God’s wrath lasted only the 15,888th hour (less than half a second), while others say God’s wrath lasted as long as the Hebrew word for “hour” (a two-syllable word). Regardless, it lasts only a short time, for deeper, more lasting mercy soon emanates from God’s presence.
As a parent of two young children, DeGroot empathizes with God’s wrath and the love that replaces it. When his kids mess around, he says, “I get frustrated! … Why did they throw blue toothpaste on the white lampshade in the bathroom and now it’s stained forever? I have to put the carpet in carpet cleaner.” fifth One time two years later because they peed on it in the middle of the night! he said with a smile. But these temporary frustrations fall within the broader scope of parental care. “I really agree… with the concept of angry moments. [being] Located in a wider, more vast, more eternal love,” he told me.
Once we properly notice our anger and name the heartbreak it masks, what follows (hopefully!) is compassion for ourselves and others who are hurting. From that place you can actually take action.
Compassion stems from a just community
Najeeba Syeed is executive director of the Augsburg Interfaith Organization in Minneapolis and has a long history of conflict resolution. She explained that in Islam, the Prophet Muhammad also felt anger. Early in his mission, as he traveled from one place to another, he was stoned to death by angry villagers who rejected him. “He has a choice,” she told Vox. “Should divine power destroy this community, or should this community be reprieved for what they have done?”
Prophet Muhammad chose forgiveness over revenge. But this choice involves both spiritual wisdom and strategy: Anger, Said says, can separate us from the people we need to connect with when seeking justice. “It prevents us from seeing other people’s experiences,” she said. In building coalitions that can address the issues that make us angry, we need to understand the experiences of others. If we continue to be atomized and crazy, inequality, corruption, and rising health care costs will not change. We must work together.
“Okay, you’re angry,” Said affirmed, “but who are you? Who’s in the collective? Who’s affected? If we don’t have an identity that’s bigger than our political affiliations — and I mean neighborhood, some sense of community that transcends our political affiliations — then we might actually be destroying ourselves in the process.”
“if you [take action] On your own, will the social level really change? she asked. “You still have to be able to make allies, you still have to be able to make connections.”
This is how the Prophet Muhammad showed restraint to angry villagers. To allow them impunity, he later forged alliances with them in his campaign to spread his message across the region.
In the Muslim tradition, judges are prohibited from ruling in anger because people know that justice cannot come from anger. Anger can help us tune out distractions and focus on the work that needs to be done—but the work of justice must come from a deeper place of love.
So, what do we make of anger? It shouldn’t be thought of as something to be addicted to – but we shouldn’t try to avoid it either. Anger is like a wake-up call that tells us something is wrong. When we notice it emerging, we must examine the heartbreak underneath and allow our innate compassion to emerge. Then guided by that love and some strategy, we can decide how to act.
And take the action we should take! Said shared a popular proverb from the Islamic world: You must tie your camel. This means that we humans must intervene in the world; it is not just God who acts on our behalf. So: Have difficult conversations guided by ethics! Vote in the midterms and local elections! Call your electors! Organize your neighborhood and your workplace! But do so out of a deeper sense of compassion that guides wise decision-making.