I recently went to a RAGE CAGE!
A whattttttttt you might be thinking!!! Yes, you heard me correctly. A RAGE CAGE!
And what does one do there?
Well, I ranted, raved, screamed and busted things. I swung bats, hammers and crow bars, attempting to destroy objects and by doing so, let out a lifetime of unwanted emotions, primarily anger and frustration that were keeping my energy stuck and stagnant in body and soul.
I walked into into the rage room, music blaring, multicolored painted walls screaming at me and wondered, “what the F…K am I doing here?” This surely ain’t for me, yet something wouldn’t allow me to leave.
I donned a white one piece “Indi 500” race-suit along with a helmet and mask for protection. I was then instructed to select dishes, glassware and other items to smash.
“How exactly did I arrive at a place like this,” you must be wondering. A healer I had recently seen, felt that I had some ANGER swirling around my heart chakra, that it probably wasn’t mine, but might want to let it go. I was fully on board with this idea, but a RAGE ROOM. That I was not sure of.
However, I’ve done some crazeee, bad ass shit in my day, so I figured what had I to lose but some yucky emotions that weren’t serving me and perhaps were even holding me back from being my best self.
I went into this experience with no expectations, although my gut instinct told me it might be my Mom’s anger. “Okay,” I thought, “let her rip, Mom!”
With absolutely no clue as to what to select first, the dishes started talking to me. Yup, I’m insane, I admit it. The first object that spoke to me was an adorable Santa mug, like I had when I was a little girl. It said, “put me in your basket Pat.” I replied, “NOOOO!”
The voice in my head screamed louder, “put me in the basket.” Again I yelled to that voice, “NOOO.” Before I could say cock robin the mug leaped into the basket. It won and thus this crazy escapade began. Wine glasses, beer mugs and decanters followed. I truly tried to put up a fight with each object but the voice of reason got the better of me.
Suddenly it hit me and my body shuddered with what was actually happening. I knew in an instant what this was all about and whose ANGER this was. My body was now on high alert and I thought I just might run for the hills. But I didn’t!
Next the helpful gentleman asked me what kind of music I wanted to rage with. Did I want Metallica. “Metalla who?” I replied. I thought to myself, “do you have Frank Sinatra, New York, New York,” but then laughed at the absurdity of this notion. “You pick,” I told him. And boyyyyyy did he ever. The music was blaring, banging and loud! Perfect for what I was about to embark on.
“What’s next,” I asked him. You throw the dishes against the wall or smash them with the sledge hammer, crowbar, bat or hammer. And YELL!!!!. I want to hear you SCREAMMMMMMM!
He slammed the door shut leaving me and my rage all to myself. An adrenaline rush coursed through my veins and I felt simultaneously super scared and yet frickin alive.
I flung the festive plate against the wall and it fractured into what seemed like a million pieces. “There, I did it.” No emotion - no feeling- just a smash! Then the voice piped up again. “Pick up the Santa mug.” My heart skipped a beat or two because I now knew where this was going and the experience suddenly became intensely real. Almost like a flashback to my childhood which was haunting!
Placing the mug on the tin barrel, I lifted that hammer and swung it down as hard as I could on poor, old Santa. Screeches and howls came pummeling out of me. My body shook all over. Pound after pound, after pound. I couldn’t stop myself. My guts were on fire and I felt pissedddddd. So I just kept at it until I couldn’t swing anymore.
Santa exploded before my eyes and with that came a startling vision of my Dad, on Christmas day. The memories and suppressed feelings of Christmases of yore came barreling at me. So many holidays ruined by this man and by his behavior. Too much for a young child to even fathom - the venom was stuck in my throat. I thought I just might vomit all that disdain and hate right up, right now!
Schreeching a few expletives to him, at him, for me, for my own relief, my own healing. I realized that his anger was swirling in my bones, but so wasn’t my own anger at my Dad, for not giving me what I needed as a kid!!! I had to get it out, all of it, or I would continue to be held hostage in my own MIND!
Wine decanters, beer mugs and champagne flutes were next. You must be on to the theme of this madness by now! Dishes were catapulting through the air, and the energy was turbulent and stormy. I got into a rhythm after a while, losing all track of time, and went into the RAGE ZONE.
Hot and sweaty, I stopped for a brief respite. The young man opened the door to check in on me. In his arms was a twenty inch screen broken television and a coffee maker. He chuckled at the look on my face.
“What do I do with these ,” I asked? “Smash them,” he smiled. “You’ve got to be shittin me,” I replied.
Picking up the crowbar, I gave it a swing and it almost took me out! Flinging it down on the telly, one, two, three times, I got absolutely nowhere. To pooped to pop, I said to the television, “you win. I give up.”
The coffee maker was irritating me already. I just didn’t want to harm it. But that dam voice piped up again. “Pummel me!” “Nope,” I yelled back. “Pummel me now.” Okayyyyyyy and I went to town. Coils were soon bugging out everywhere. The lid was crushed and at this point the fury within seemed to dissipate and laughter took its place. I actually found humor in all of this madness and was feeling giddy. Demented, I know, but it was quite liberating!!!
Thanking the gentleman profusely after my session, I got into the car and just howled. Feeling exhausted physically, mentally and emotionally, I was spent, but so proud of Me! I did it and I survived!!! Truly a catharsis in the best way possible.
That night I climbed into bed totally exhausted. I woke five hours later in the same position I had started in. That was a miracle as I have struggled with insomnia since I was a child. I kid you not!
The following day there was something noticeably different in me. It was as if a wall around my heart had come tumbling down. I felt lighter, freer, more at peace and in love with myself and the world.
The space in my body that had been holding on to anger had now been released and there was room for something new to come in. I like to think that joy, compassion, happiness, serenity and harmony took its place!
With forgiveness work I have been able to make amends with my Dad and see him now from a place of understanding and compassion. What a revelation. Love surely does heal!
There is a saying, “feelings buried alive never die.” Or, “your issues stay in your tissues.” I can attest to the truth in both of these quotes, after having done emotional release work. I know today what ease, well-being and vibrant health feel like in body/mind/spirit!
Find what works for you. Be it a RAGE CAGE, or talk therapy, meditation, essential oils, or breathe-work. Free yourself up to live the life you desire. Let go of the stuck-ness, the stickiness, the junk in the trunk. Your soul and body will thank you. And YOU are so worth it!!!
"Anger is an acid that can do more harm to the vessel in which it is stored than to anything on which it is poured." –Mark Twain
https://path2healing.org/