The Wisdom of Rage

My jaw has been tight on and off for a while now.

Is it the relentless world events — wars launched, rights under threat, people treated as expendable?

The dizzying blow of learning that Deepak Chopra was in the Epstein files?

Or the caregiver who listened to my brother’s voice — simply because he is a man — rather than mine? An exhausting and all-too-familiar pattern that, in the context of everything else, landed hard.

Probably all of it. And more.

At the gym, I stacked another 90 pounds onto the leg press and sat down with the energy of a warrior who wanted to say: Not today.

This is how I let my rage move.

Instead of trying to soften my inner warrior, I gave her somewhere to go. I get into my body. I let her push. Pull. Breathe hard. Feel strong.

When I read the emails attributed to Chopra in the DOJ-released Epstein files, I felt sick to my stomach. Years ago, I trained at the Chopra Center and worked as one of their first coaches. While I never worked directly with Chopra, I loved the connection to his work.

“God is a construct. Cute girls are real,” he wrote to Epstein.

You have got to be fucking kidding me.

This isn’t harmless eccentricity.

It’s power speaking like it’s untouchable.

And it’s disorienting to realize how wide the corruption stretches and how many people I once trusted were entangled in it.

I tune into my body. Plant my feet and push the weight again.

Underneath that disorientation, something in me feels very clear and uncomplicated.

There is a line.

Humans are equal. Equal.

Not usable.

Not disposable.

Not collateral damage.

And that includes the bodies of girls and women — bodies too often treated as currency — and Black and brown bodies that history has repeatedly marked as expendable.

Status does not override that.

Money does not override that.

Intelligence does not override that.

And a spiritual “guru” sure as hell does not override that.

There are moments when our discernment tells us a hard no, and this is one of them.

Later in the day, I’m home, and it looks different. I’m sitting quietly, breathing, grounded, holding compassion for another human. I meditate. I journal what I’m grateful for, and I ask for guidance from love. I look for the good so I can feel alive and aligned in my body and life.

I believe in the power of love. I believe that we’re all consciousness and that at the level of the Soul, we are unshakably good.

I feel grateful.

I feel enraged.

Both exist in one day.

Because feeling angry is human.

It is often love refusing to tolerate harm.

And a connection to love and the Divine helps us metabolize our rage and guides us when we don’t know what to do with it.

Our rage holds wisdom.

For me, rage is the part that says: I have zero tolerance for abuse. Zero tolerance for predatory behavior. Zero tolerance for power moves that treat people as disposable.

This is the same energy that rose in me when I sensed my mother’s vulnerability to neglect. Fierce. Protective. Clear.

When I look at my daughters, I feel it again.

When I think of every person who has navigated predatory behavior, gaslighting, and systems that treat them as collateral damage, I feel it again.

Women have been told for eons that their rage is hysteria. That they’re “too sensitive.”

That dismissive language is another power move to quiet women and strip their anger of its moral authority.

This is not hysteria.

This is not being “too sensitive.”

This is not overreacting.

This is what I call the sacred warrior.

Being spiritual does not mean being calm all the time.

It means listening within and turning toward the wisdom your rage is communicating.

Because rage tells you where the line is.

Rage tells you what matters to you and what you will defend.

So what do we do with it, especially when it feels relentless and overwhelming?

We consciously greet it. Allow it. Listen.

Living in untended rage is not grounded leadership. It carries a cost to our nervous systems, our clarity, and sometimes the very causes we care about. That’s why we practice metabolizing it, so we can feel our bodies, our truth, and ground ourselves.

Because feeling grounded, alive, aligned, empowered, and deeply connected to love is an act of rebellion right now.

Here’s how we work with rage instead of being run by it:

1. Let the energy move.

Rage is activation. It lives in the body first.

Go for a walk.

Lift something heavy.

Push against a wall.

Scream into a pillow.

The goal isn’t to escalate the story or unleash it on someone else. It’s to let the energy discharge so it doesn’t steam inside like a pressure cooker or collapse into numbness.

Move it through you.

2. Talk to rage.

It shows up when something sacred has been crossed.

Ask it:

• What are you protecting?

• What value was violated?

• What are you done tolerating?

There are moments when it’s not complicated, and we find the line that has been crossed.

3. Choose your response from your center, not from adrenaline.

Once the energy has moved and the boundary is clear, come back to your breath.

Rest.

Sit in nature.

Talk to God, the Universe, or whatever feels sacred to you.

Then ask:

What action aligns with my integrity?

It might be getting involved in a local organization, helping a neighbor, or even just resting.

You are the leader of your inner system. You have the power of where you place your focus. Honor the wisdom within you.

When we greet our anger without shame, letting it move and speak, it can guide us back to grounded love. In that space, anger metabolizes into wisdom.

Our bodies feel it. Our jaws soften. Our breath deepens. And underneath it all, we feel the love that was there all along.

I write regularly about aliveness, fear, and the inner choices that shape our lives. Get the next one in your inbox.