The Beauty of Anger

I recall an evening session in one of  the creative psychotherapy groups I ostensibly lead.   I insert ostensibly because this was one of those nights I was especially grateful to be there. The discussion was in reference to their experiences of rage in their life.  They reflected on how they reacted in the past and how they responded now. 
The subject would seem a provocative one,but the atmosphere was oddly comforting. 
It was like sitting around a central  hearth. The anger fire  was there in the center, but it was banked all around by a consciousness, that was respectful of this volatile  element neither feeding the flame or killing it. There I sat watching in the dark  as the firelight offered glimpses of each persons hard earned wisdom. It was beautiful.