🔥 When Anger Meets Anger:

When anger meets anger, it doesn’t resolve—it echoes. It becomes a closed circuit, a feedback loop. Not because anger is inherently wrong, but because it has nowhere to go.

It's not creative or destructive by itself—it's unresolved energy, pulsing, waiting.

Without someone to ground it, to receive it, to witness it—it doesn’t discharge. It calcifies.

🪨 The Descent into Stone

Untransformed anger becomes form.
Vitality becomes rigidity.
Emotion becomes fossil.

In this way, anger doesn’t die—it ossifies. And those stones become the very structures we later feel trapped in. Laws. Roles. Stories. Systems.

It's like a psychic law of gravity: what is not metabolised will be memorialised—in muscle, in memory, in myth.

🐍 The Gaze That Hardens

Medusa’s gaze turns people to stone—but maybe only because they meet her with fear.

What if she’s not monstrous, but unwitnessed?

In some tellings, she is rage incarnate—not villainous, but sacred. The fury of the betrayed. The one who was violated and then punished for surviving. Her hair becomes serpents, her eyes hold flame. And if you meet her without presence, without curiosity, you freeze.

Not because she hates you.
But because she’s holding a truth too powerful to look at directly.

She is not trying to destroy.
She is trying to be seen without being turned away.

🌿 The Alchemy

Anger is not useless. But it is volatile.
It asks not to be fought or fed—but held.

When received with Self-energy—calm, curiosity, compassion—it begins to transmute.

Stone softens.
Salt dissolves.
The gaze becomes a mirror, not a curse.

And anger, at last, can become what it was always meant to be:
a messenger.
a protector.
a source of truth.

What am I protecting?
What was violated?
What truth am I holding in my eyes?

These are the questions anger might ask—if we dare to meet her, not with fear, but with breath.

✨ A Final Image

Picture Medusa again—not as a monster, but as a woman at the edge of a cliff. Her snakes are coiled not to strike, but to signal. Her eyes are not weapons—they are witnesses.

If you can meet her gaze without turning to stone—if you can hold her without hardening—
you break the spell.

Not by silencing anger.
But by letting it be seen.

Written in reflection. Offered as alchemy.
If it speaks to you, let it be a mirror. If not, let it pass like heat off stone.

#MedusaDidNothingWrong #WitnessMeDontFixMe #PetTheSnakesOrLeave