Bridle the Beast

Over the past few years—a stressful period during which a contentious presidential election, a coronavirus pandemic, and the death of George Floyd all occurred—you may have felt some anger from time to time, beyond your normal experience of the feeling. Even if you wouldn’t call it “anger”, increased levels of impatience or frustration certainly count.

My interest in anger began a few years ago, when—to my shock—I found myself resembling this masterful description of the wrathful:

When some word or deed or suspicion causing annoyance has roused this disease [of wrath], then the blood boils round the heart, and the soul rises up for vengeance. As in pagan fables some drugged drink changes human nature into animal form, so a man is sometimes seen to be changed by wrath into a boar, or dog, or panther, or some other wild animal. His eyes become bloodshot; his hair stands on end and bristles; his voice becomes harsh and his words sharp. His tongue grows numb with passion and refuses to obey the desires of his mind. His lips grow stiff; and unable to articulate a word, they can no longer keep the spittle produced by passion inside the mouth, but dribble froth disgustingly when they try to speak. 

Gregory of Nyssa, Homily 2 on the Beatitudes

Not my proudest moment. But because what I’ve learned from this experience may be helpful, I write to share a few thoughts about anger.

First of all, anger is a gift. It’s a natural response to a threat and a motivation to protect what needs protection, a sign that something needs to be confronted. Moreover, it’s the energy to get things done. Without anger it’s difficult—if not impossible—to achieve certain goals.

But for all the good it can do, anger is a double-edged sword with enormous destructive potential. It needs to be managed. Here are three principles by which to do that:

  1. Bridle the Beast—Sometimes you’ll be fuming. Unless you’re an extraordinarily virtuous person or surrounded with relationships of exceptional trust, it’s generally not advisable to blow your top. Practice self-control, the ability to pause between stimulus and response—at least for that moment if not forever.
  2. Look it in the Face—Once you separate yourself from the anger you feel and objectify it, you can examine it, which will enable you to state at whom or what you’re angry and why. Very often, just hearing yourself articulate these facts can reframe or refresh your perspective. Sometimes you’ll find your anger justified, many other times not. Once you can say why and at whom or what you’re angry, you can engage in confrontation much more constructively.
  3. Relax the Reins—Sometimes the anger will stick around and move you to action. Sometimes it will trot away after being identified as selfish or unjustified. But if it remains, you must let yourself take appropriate action and engage in constructive confrontation and conflict. Without this final step, you run the danger of repression, resentment, and even physical illness. 

A more difficult spiritual path by which to manage anger is to purify it through detachment and the uprooting of self-will. Desire, particularly when it’s thwarted or its object is threatened, drives anger. The more we sacrifice self-will in favor of a desire for something greater, the less problematic anger will be.

That’s all very philosophical, and there’s a chance we could still blow our tops from time to time. So finally, humility and asking forgiveness are indispensible for those moments when our failure to manage our anger turns it into a bucking bronco instead of a well-trained racehorse.