Image: Brooke Shaden
“Rage — whether in reaction to social injustice, or to our leaders’ insanity, or to those who threaten or harm us — is a powerful energy that, with diligent practice, can be transformed into fierce compassion.”
Bonnie Myotai Treace
Ever since I was a little girl I have had a temper; a side to myself that others found unsavory, too wild, too opinionated, too loud, too aggressive, too stubborn—too much free will.
I have said in the past the only thing my Father ever gave me was this temper.
For years, and years people would try to tame me, water me down, try to fit me into a box…
I broke the box every time because what lives within me cannot be contained.
There is a part of me separate from my temper; this energy is not just my Shadow Self, it is fragments of lifetimes, people, memories, and the collective unconscious.
My Beast is justified rage, it’s a collection of all the injustices that have ever occurred; it is all the dreams that were dreamt but unable to be filled because of fear or societal pressures; it is the collection of pain, anger, sadness, and hurt of every life that has ever lived.
My Mom, my beautiful Crone, has come to call this beast Henry, a silly name for a not so silly presence. When we know he is coming we usually keep him at bay with various methods. His destruction knows no bounds, and he sucks the life out of me; though he/it is not separate from me but *part* of me. Mom knew about this energy while I was in her womb; she knew I was NOT made for this world.
This part of me is my connection to the Divine; manifested, glorious, beautiful destruction.
My temper comes in short bursts, destructive still but not long lived.
Henry, he won’t stop, he is insatiable.
I haven’t mastered this whole being human thing, and often I find myself struggling to just exist in this world day to day; adding Henry into the equation is not the kind of plot twist that I like. This destructive force is why I am so critical of myself and others (I can, without even knowing, come off very condescending and elitist; I’m working on it.)
Therefore, I continuously break myself down, study the pieces, just to put myself together again.
Sometimes in the process I break others, too, and that part, that part is the worst.
This morning when Henry showed up after my asshole cat broke my closet door and I hurt my back (I have 3 compression fractures in my spine currently so messing with the closet was no business of mine) I blew two light bulbs in the process.
And, reset the wi-fi—twice.
Part of the reason why Shiva is my Patron deity is because I relate to him in ways I cannot put into words. I relate to him in ways that make me sound insane, to be honest.
Like this post, for example. Makes me sound crazy.
Crazy is relative, I guess, so whatever.
Onwards with the crazy!
In Hinduism Shiva is one of three main Creator Gods: Brahma, the Creator; Vishnu, the Preserver; Shiva, the Destroyer. However, in Shaivism he is all three Archetypes.
In both traditions though he is known as the “God who must be drugged” to keep his destruction tamed.
As powerful and self-aware as Shiva is, he still is at the mercy of his destruction.
Even through Meditation and Yoga (Shiva is the God of Yogi’s; I practice Yoga as active meditation), killing ego and rejecting karma (in this context it means he does not act with the expectation of reward) he still has to conquer his own destructive force every single day.
Am I comparing myself to a God? No.
I am finding pieces of myself and my truth within the energy, Archetypes and stories of a God and in return the synchronicities happening in my life are guiding me forward; they have yet to steer me wrong.
I do use herbs, anti-anxiety medicine when necessary, and methods of channeling the emotion; have even bottled it up (literally) for later use but still, there is this force inside of me that can both wreak havoc and heal deeply; it is both harshly critical and mothering; it is both loving and loathing; it is everything and nothing.
It’s a part of me, and somedays I hate it.
Today I hate it.
Om Namah Shivaya breaks down as:
Om- Before there was a universe, there was (and is) the Great void of existence. Out of this void came the vibration which started the universe, which is known as Om.
Namah- This literally translates to bow.
Shivaya- This, of course, means Shiva; but more than that, it means the inner self.
When understood fully (and per Shaivism), it means “I bow to the inner Self”.
I bow, honor, love and acknowledge all parts of myself because I was told more times than I can count that I was not worthy of love; I was too hard to love; I would prove to be too complicated; too much effort without payoff; too independent.
I honor all parts of myself, even the negative ones (particularly those) because that is where truth comes from, that is where healing is found, and that is where wisdom resides.
I bow to my inner self because I refuse to bow to any other force.
I am sharing this story because today, and the past few months have been hard, words needed to flow and I know there are many of you who can relate to this; there are even a few of you who will relate to this without even knowing that you, too, have a Beast inside of you.
Don’t let them tame you.
Disclaimer: I am not condoning drug use as a means to suppress parts of yourself but I also do not see much of a difference between using marijuana or other herbs and being medicated (with poisons in my opinion) by a Doctor. I have tried both and medication simply does not work for me (I have Hashimotos which causes severe medication sensitivities and allergies).
As always, mental illness and drug addiction are very real and if you believe you have a problem, please seek medical help. I am addressing this because a blog I wrote recently caused another writer (hi, hater) to call into question my sanity. I am under the care of Doctor’s and do not need an uneducated opinion about my mental health but, thank you!
I am also not the type of person who tries to pass off everything “mental” as being spiritual or vice versa; I do believe in some cases they go hand in hand; I believe that in other cases they are completely unrelated.
Know thyself as you love thyself.
Reblogged this on The Angry Alchemist and commented:
This speaks to me so deeply, words fall incredibly short.