Letting Go of Outrage

On Sunday morning I photographed this line of graffiti, painted along a long, low brick wall: If you’re not outraged, you’re not paying attention. Along with the directive: LOOK

I could feel the anger and frustration behind the words, the desire to pierce the bubble of those who are comfortable and complacent. It’s a sentence, written at the scale of whole-arm movement behind a can of spray paint, with the power to hook me.

I don’t want to be guilty of not paying attention. Attention matters. And attending to what matters is a moral duty. Closing ourselves off from the world is not what we’re here for. Yet neither are we here to live in a state of outrage. It exhausts us, while serving no good purpose.

How can we pay attention, yet not live in a continual state of outrage?

It helps to notice that eliciting outrage is often a form of manipulation. Those who want our outrage want to control our attention and our energy.  

One form of this manipulation is through taking action that provokes outrage. This is a way of both directing and thwarting our attention, like a magician gesturing grandly with one hand while performing a sleight-of-hand with the other. To understand what’s really going on, it’s important to look at more than what is being overtly presented.

Another kind of manipulation is using outrage to gather a following and fuel a movement. This kind of manipulation is more subtle. It uses righteous indignation, which can seem like the high moral ground. This is tricky territory, because the flare of anger can indeed bring with it energy for important action. Anger brings with it information about a line that has been crossed, and the energy to respond—hopefully with clarity and respect for life. Anger in itself, when it moves through and moves on, is not a problem.

Remaining in a state of outrage, however, steeps us in a toxic brew. It limits how we see the world; it impedes the growth of creative solutions to problems. Overtaken by outrage, we lose the ability to discern when our efforts are no longer effective. Living from a place of outrage turns the world into a battlefront that gives life to no one. It cuts us off from the source of life, and from one another, as we rely only on our own rapidly depleting resources. We become brittle, like the dying branch of a tree.

When we can pay attention and respond from a place not rooted in anger, but in the fertile soil of wisdom, then we have something to offer that actually makes the world better. When we can set aside our own reactivity, and allow our actions to be led by what is highest and best within us, we have a chance to bring healing to ourselves and others. We can only do this if we can consciously choose where to place our attention.

Where there is life there is hope. The brittle branch may yet show a green bud in the spring. Our rough bark can still hold the life force that unfurls a new leaf.

What new life might we be a conduit for?

Susan Christerson Brown

Working with Anger using the Enneagram

Fire is such a natural metaphor for anger they’re woven together into our language. Fire can “rage.” We “burn” with anger. Fire, like anger, can catch without warning and blaze out of control. Or it can smolder unnoticed, waiting for enough fuel and air to make itself known.

Fire is also a life-giving element. It brings warmth and light. It transforms food into nourishment. Fire makes it possible for metal to be shaped by the smith.

Likewise, anger has life-giving qualities. It brings information, showing us when an important line has been crossed. The power of anger plays a role in our survival. It generates the energy we need to counter a threatening force, whether the danger is to our safety and survival, our sense of justice, or our sense of worth.

But when anger takes over it means we’re no longer in charge. The anger of others easily triggers that response in ourselves. Our instinctive reaction of fight, flight, or freeze is revved up, and we don’t get to choose how to respond. Instead, we slip into unconscious automatic patterns that formed long ago. For some people, anger brings on a volcanic eruption that drives others away. For others, the pattern ignites a backfire that depletes the available oxygen.  

The Enneagram is the most effective tool I’ve found for growing beyond our habitual reactions. Learning our Enneagram type helps us become aware of our pattern and recognize when we’re caught in it. Rising anger is instinctive, and our reaction to it becomes wired into our nervous system from a very young age. The body experiences anger before the mind has a chance to process it. Anger-driven reactivity looks very different for each Enneagram type, but being caught there is to give up control and choice.  

Being caught in our type pattern means we’re not free. It also means that our view of the world is distorted. Our lives and our relationships suffer for it. But if we can learn to recognize what’s happening, we can respond in a way that serves us better. We can use the energy and information anger brings, while choosing our response with more wisdom and skill.

This begins with noticing when anger begins to ignite our automatic responses, and allowing a counter-intuitive pause. Take a deep breath. Our nervous system gears up as if we don’t have time to think, as if our survival is at stake. It takes a few moments to process the reality that we have a choice. Pausing creates a space in which we can decide how best to respond.

We need the clarity and power that anger brings. Yet it raises internal alarms because anger and danger look and feel similar. It takes practice to discern what’s really happening, calm the alarm, and respond in a more effective way. It’s simple, but it’s not easy.

That this is possible at all feels miraculous. Practicing the pause makes new options available. It grants us more freedom in how to live than we might ever have imagined.

David Daniels, cofounder of The Narrative Enneagram school where I did my training, has written about anger and the enneagram here.

Susan Christerson Brown