A Creative Meditation for Anger That Will Not Sleep

If you are struggling right now with the residue of unresolved rage, read this creative meditation for anger. I hope my post encourages you to help yourself calm it.

Anger is one of those emotions that sets the soul aflame; and in such a way that it may feel as if you could be incinerated in the process. If this emotion remains trapped, it will cause all sorts of internal damage. And if it’s released in a toxic way, it can create irreparable consequences.

Still, we are human, and anger is a part of our experience. So, it needs a safe space to be acknowledged, validated, and soothed. I find writing rage in its rawest form a welcome release. Mind you, this sort of writing may not be suitable for anyone to read. But it allows you and your anger to engage in a healthy relationship. There exists a myriad of other ways to vent: running, therapy, kickboxing, etc.

But then what do you do once some of the anger has subsided; but still refuses to sleep? What if it operates as a gnawing sensation—an unwelcome background noise to your daily life? What if it even pervades your dreams? Illness may surely follow as a physical manifestation. This is typically how it works in my life.

If you are in this exact space, please read on, and follow my creative mediation for anger that will not sleep.

First, release some of that anger in a way that is safe. I already made mention of some outlets in which to do so. If time is an issue, simply run in place, or punch a pillow. Then, once you feel a pocket of your fury appeased, set the stage to calm it.

Find a space in your home that comforts you. Recline if you’d like, or sit in your coziest chair. Make sure the room temperature is pleasing, and if you need a soundtrack, play gentle music. I usually darken a room and rest on a heating pad. Whatever brings you peace, create that setting.

Now, I will narrate my creative meditation for anger, and then offer steps for you to create your own afterwards.

Slowly, I close my eyes to search my imagination for a snug comfy home. Not a mansion; but rather a manageable small abode. After all, only I will live in this space. In time, I visualize a log cabin near a mountain forest. The windows are cracked to allow fresh air and sunlight to filter in; and book shelves line the perimeter with all of my favorite reads. A lovely fire burns alongside a relaxed cushy chair. In addition, a table with coffee and treats stands nearby, as well as a journal to serve as my creative companion. A plush bed rests in the corner with a pastel quilt and fluffed pillows. I stay with this image for a little while.

Then, I do something that appears in antithesis to the atmosphere I’m striving to create. I invite anger inside my home. My anger is a literal beast. In fact, it manifests as a dragon composed solely of dark words. This dragon makes quite the scene as it enters my home, circling my body, screaming. I observe the beast, and listen. After all, many of its words are my own ireful thoughts.

Again, I remain with this scene for a stretch until I grow weary of it. This is when I look around the room for a weapon to thwart it. Carefully, I move to the fireplace and lift a thin log. Then, I light it, and swipe at the dragon. This takes some effort, as fielding anger does; but I don’t stop until the beast-of-words falls, burning to the ground.

Exhausted, I stomp on the dragon’s leftovers–mere cinders–extinguishing them.

Now, I gaze at how my anger rests on the floor in ashes. While I allow them to cool, I do not pity; but appreciate them. In fact, I am aware that they’ve served me well in some ways. Perhaps even protected me. With this knowledge, I scoop some ashes into my hands and let them slip through my fingertips. Then, I place a handful into a jar and situate it on the fireplace’s mantel. As I do so, I kindly thank anger, and even repeat it as a mantra. Thank you anger. Thank you anger. Thank you anger.

Next, I unlatch my front door, find a broom, and sweep the remaining ashes outside. Likewise, I exit my home. Watch as a gust of wind greets anger’s ashes, and carries them far away. As those dusty particles fly in the sunlight, they almost seem happy to leave me; radiant on their journey into the horizon. I smile with relief, and a well-won victory.

Afterwards, I walk away from my cabin, leaving the door and windows wide open. I stroll along a beautiful trail deep into the forest that leads to a clear bubbling brook. Stooping, I scoop water and splash it on my cheeks. Then, I rest and allow sunlight to stream my face.

Anger is sleeping, this I know.

In time, I walk slowly back to my home, feeling fully present in nature. I reenter my abode to a fresh serene space, and then rest on the cushy bed to enjoy a long peaceful nap.

Steps for this Creative Meditation for Anger:

Visualize your ideal cozy home, decorating it with things you love the most.
Imagine an illustrated representation of your anger (a monster, dragon, wolf, etc.) composed of your angriest words.
Invite the beast of anger inside your home.
Observe it. Listen for a spell.
Then, find a fiery weapon, and fight it. Employ all of your aggression as you do so.
Once the beast dissolves in ashes, show gratitude for your anger. Repeat it as a thankful mantra.
Place some ashes in a jar, and keep it in your home.
Free the rest to exit and fly away.
Leave your home wide open, and then find a beautiful spot in nature to rest.
Return to your fresh and calm home with a heightened awareness and inner peace.

Why this Works for Me:

I liken the cozy home to my body in a state of well-being. After all, our bodies serve as our supreme house gifted to us at birth. Over our lifetime, it is ultimately up to us to create safe warm homes of them. This is one of life’s greatest challenges I’ve found, by the way.

When anger (the dragon) enters my home, I realize it is not ALL of me; but A PART of me. Seeing this in a visual way helps me befriend that sad irate piece of me. I even stop and listen to everything it wants to tell me.

Now, that I’ve listened and observed, I recognize the need to deflate anger. It is taking up too much space, and tainting the energy of my home.

This takes work, and that’s why I imagine battling the dragon. In doing so, it allows me to engage and contend with my anger in an aggressive way; which it requires for a release. Still, though, I am able to execute this in the safety of my imagination.

Once I battle the dragon and win, I take due time to respect it as a very human piece of my existence. In fact, I do not force all of my anger to leave my home. I keep some in a jar, contained; but present, as anger is an emotion that will always visit. The jar reminds me that I can deal with, defuse, and appreciate it in a respectful way.

But, again, I can’t have the beast living too largely in my home. So, I sweep its most toxic pieces from me, and watch them fly away.

Now, I must take a vacation from myself in a sense. So, I leave my home open to air out and refresh itself. Then, I wander in nature, becoming a part of it. I rest in sunlight, and bathe myself in clear water. This cleanses my mind, spirit, and body.

Only when I achieve a sense of well-being do I return to my home. Now, I am in sync with it; and the serene wonder of me.

I hope this creative meditation for anger delivers you to a state of inner peace.

We all deserve to feel this way.