As Election Day approaches, many of us are getting caught in political conversations that make our cheeks burn and our temples throb. While feeling righteous and angry can maybe feel good in the short term, it can do lasting damage to our minds, bodies, and relationships. So, what can we do about the anger we experience in response to today’s politics? 

The prevailing wisdom in spiritual and self-care circles is to take a break and engage in loving-kindness meditation and other calming activities as balms for our rage. But after doing exactly this for over a decade as a campaigner and activist—and finding it sorely lacking—I began my Zen training, which prescribes the complete opposite. 

At Chozen-ji, the Rinzai Zen temple and martial arts dojo in Honolulu where I live, we combine rigorous seated meditation with martial and fine-arts training to go straight into the heart of what limits us, including inner rage. 

“Being the person we want to be, regardless of our external circumstances, takes a great deal of work.”

One of my first teachers told me, “It’s great if you can feel calm and in control on the cushion. But what about with a sword at your throat? Or with a calligraphy brush in your hand?” His point was that it’s far more likely that you’ll be able to bring the skills of breath, posture, and concentration off the cushion if they’ve been tested in activity and, in particular, under stress. That’s why my Zen training has included several days a week of particularly aggressive kendo (the “way of the sword” or Japanese fencing) and boxing, as well as ceramics and chado (the “way of tea” or Japanese tea ceremony), which are also done at Chozen-ji with a martial discipline.

I will try to share some insight into how these core components of my Zen training—zazen (seated meditation) and physical activities like the martial arts—can be effective approaches to anger and other difficult emotions.

First of all, zazen shouldn’t feel like a subdued, solitary activity. In fact, at Chozen-ji, it resembles an intense team sport. We sit with our eyes open, focusing on a spot ten feet away on the floor, but also seeing the whole room with our peripheral vision, as if taking in a wide vista. All of our senses are open, instead of muted. We see, hear, and feel everything. It’s like we’re early humans hunting—we’re alert and ready to jump up and take action.

Most importantly, throughout our forty-five-minute sittings, we don’t move—even if a mosquito lands on our noses, even if our knees are on fire. Beginners sit for shorter periods until they can sit for forty-five minutes without moving, and those with injuries and other limitations may sit on chairs. But no gross movement is allowed. This contributes more than anything to the feeling of zazen as a team sport; everyone sees and relies on each other to keep the zazen sharp, beginning with resisting the temptation to move—not for the sake of oneself, but for everyone in the room.

Concentration is also built by counting one’s exhalations and breathing with the hara, the low abdomen below the belly button. The exhalations are long and slow, sometimes spanning as long as thirty seconds. The posture is straight and erect, with a slight forward feeling, again as if we’re ready to jump into action.

Try this kind of attentive meditation at home and you may find that it translates easily into moments of activity and that it transforms an experience. When experiencing anger, for example, what happens when you try to feel your feet on the ground, see 180 degrees in every direction, and breathe slowly with your hara?

After zazen, the best thing to do is to go out and use the body. “Zen without the accompanying physical experience,” our founders wrote in our temple’s canon, “is nothing but empty discussion.” Doing simple, repetitive, but vigorous physical work—whether it’s martial arts, endurance activities like running, or challenging manual labor like chopping wood—can dissipate difficult feelings and lead to more clarity, perspective, and calm. 

Pushing through when emotions surface during routine workouts is a good way to become more familiar with and eventually unwind these emotions, especially when aided by good habits from zazen in breathing, posture, and concentration. This reduces the store of emotions one carries, making it easier to either not have difficult emotions like anger flare up in the first place, or to more effectively perceive and deal with what’s right in front of you even if anger is present. Also, pushing oneself to get out there even on days when one doesn’t feel like exercising is a powerful way to build willpower and discipline, which can be put to good use in the face of difficult circumstances.

At a higher level, after unburdening oneself of some underlying baggage and developing some strength, Zen training becomes more about refinement and finding effective action without wasted effort. Only with discipline and strength have I been able to cultivate any sense of warmth, ease, and effortlessness in my ceramics and chado. The same energy can be applied to any fine art such as cooking, painting, or arranging flowers—and to every aspect of our lives, including politics.

I’ve been known my whole life as an intense and highly political person prone to anger. I still get angry when I feel personally aggrieved or I hear certain kinds of political rhetoric. But these days, people often describe me as a composed person who imparts a feeling of calm to others, and responds to challenging views with grace.

When people say this sort of thing, I usually laugh and joke that all the training I’ve been doing better be worth something. They laugh with me, but rarely do I get the sense that they understand just how hard-earned my calmness really is. Being the person we want to be, regardless of our external circumstances, takes a great deal of work. In fact, it takes serious training. Hopefully, here, you’ve found some ways to start.