The Time for Sacred Rage
I stood within the energized circle, the roda, heart pounding as the berimbau’s single string vibrated in rhythm with the tambourine and drum. Our collective songs and claps fueled the game, stoking anticipation. Ready to cartwheel into the center, I was primed to dance, spar, and move with my opponent. Capoeira was my passion and my life in my 20s. I poured myself into this martial art that resembles breakdancing, motion embodying fierce spirit and grace.
Capoeira is more than a dance. It is a Brazilian martial art born as a form of self-defense by enslaved Brazilians. Within the circle, the roda, my love for the community, the culture, and the music was electric. Each movement was a conversation: kicks, cartwheels, daring flips, weaving the emotions of two players in an unspoken dialogue.
Typically, my aim was fluidity and grace, centered and responsive. But one day, seemingly without provocation, my opponent struck intentionally. Fury rushed through me, electrifying my limbs and elevating my kicks to sharper heights. I became a lioness, unrestrained and fierce, my response igniting the music’s tempo and the chorus of claps around us. The circle vibrated with this raw force.
Afterward, I learned that my Mestre, my teacher, had encouraged the hit. He wanted to summon the rage lying dormant within me. At that moment, it felt like a betrayal, like he had made me a spectacle. I left the class reeling from the intensity of my reaction, shame laced with confusion.
Rage is an energy I, like many, have buried. We have come to see rage only as destructive and thus shameful, something to press down until it hardens within our bodies. Over time, it roots itself in the places of expression - hips, thighs, back - stiffening these centers of creation.
Rage surfaces when something deeply vital has been dismissed when a part of ourselves demands to be seen, heard, and respected. In its raw state, it feels untamed, wild, and unpredictable, which is why we’ve learned to bury it. Yet, rage holds medicine within it - an honest, unapologetic power. This is what I call Sacred Rage. It is rage in its purest, intentional form - a force that unveils truth, catalyzes movement and disrupts patterns that no longer serve us.
Sacred Rage is what we summon when we stand not for ourselves alone but for the greater whole - for the earth, humanity, and justice. Sacred Rage rises not from the head but from the deep, ancestral place within us, a resonance born of clarity and truth.
I left that day embarrassed and angry at my Mestre for drawing out this fire in me. It wasn’t until recently that I understood the profound gift it offered. I could see that what I mistook as judgment from the group was, in fact, awe at my raw power.
Women, we need all of our power now.
There is so much calling for our attention, so much that needs healing and transformation. While nurturing and softness are part of who we are, the fire of our rage is just as essential. Sacred Rage has a place here, and it is welcome.
