I am feeling a lot of rage these days. No more than is appropriate to current events, to be honest, but far more than I’m accustomed to. I am also embracing that rage a lot more than I ever have before. I am not as ashamed of it as I once was.
Rage is a powerful tool, and my rage is pointing out injustice left, right and centre. She’s a bit overworked these days, with all that pointing. She’s also taking up a bit more space in my psyche.
On Sunday I had an hour to write, and the words poured out of me. It felt fantastic. I was discovering a new point of view and feeling so strongly about it. I was in a rage-fueled writing frenzy, and I loved it. I loved it so much I thought it might be this week’s letter to all of you, but some tiny part of me suggested I hold off. Instead of hitting send to 250 of you, I sought the opinions of just a few specific people. I knew as soon as I’d sent it to them that I didn’t want to stand by those words publicly. I didn’t want those words out there in the world, coming from me. I didn’t want to put that much rage and blame out into my community, and I didn’t want to put that wall between myself and the people against whom I was momentarily raging.
This got me thinking about rage and power. I am thankful to have rage inside me, to be responding to the depravity and evil of the world with boiling heat. I am thankful for the way rage insists I hold the line, the way she does not let me back down from an important fight. My rage is a powerful teacher, and I am more clear on who I am because of my rage.
But rage is a fire that burns both ways. I am a fervent believer in the power of community, and the rage I spilled onto the page yesterday was isolating. That rage made public would have splintered my community, would have put a wedge between myself and a number of people around me. A lot of people, probably. That rage was fiery and just, but I can see now it was only meant to illuminate things for me, privately. It was not the kind of rage that needs to see the light.
Rage is powerful, and so is community. Rage is powerful, and so is the ability to resist spilling all my pain and anger at someone else’s feet. Rage is powerful, and so is the ability to recognize when my rage is more dangerous than helpful.
Rage can burn things to the ground, and to be sure there are plenty of things that should be turned to ash. But in my deepest core I want to be a builder, not an arsonist. I want to weave connections and forge togetherness. I want to invite people to imagine a better way, to envision a better future for all of us.
May our fiery rage be the light that illuminates the way forward.
xo
Shannon
Upcoming Shows
Nov 20 at 7pm - Spotlight Series 7 (Art Gallery of Northumberland)
Local artists and collaborators Katie Hoogendam (Merkat), Shannon Linton, and Saskia Tomkins explore the ways in which art sustains, connects, and enriches the shared spaces we inhabit. Tickets on sale here.
Featured Song - A choose your own adventure this week!
If you’re sitting in your rage right now and want to stoke the fire a bit, listen to Saint and the Thief.
If you’d like to calm your nervous system and return to some love and light, listen to Close Your Eyes.