So for the next few weeks, I’m going to share the principles one at a time, in their own posts, because they matter that much. Each one is simple on paper… and life-changing in practice.
And honestly, it feels especially important right now. The world feels loud. People feel stretched. Everyone has an opinion, a stance, a trigger - and it doesn’t take much for frustration to turn into anger.
I keep thinking: if we each released even a little of what we’re carrying, we’d breathe easier. We’d speak differently. We’d show up more human.
So we’re starting with the one that may be the most relevant and the most freeing:
Just for today – I will not anger.
There’s a certain kind of anger that doesn’t show up like a volcano.
It shows up like a tight jaw while you’re making coffee.
Like a fast heartbeat when you see a name on your phone.
Like an “I’m fine” that feels sharp on the way out.
It’s the kind of anger that can live quietly in the body for days… months… sometimes years - long after the moment that sparked it has passed.
And the hard truth is this: the person you’re angry at might not even know. They might be sleeping just fine, moving through their day, laughing, living. Meanwhile, you’re the one carrying the weight - replaying it, re-arguing it, re-feeling it.
Anger can feel like power, but most of the time it’s actually pain wearing armor.
A story we don’t talk about enough
Years ago, I watched someone I care about hold onto anger like it was a form of protection.
And I understood it. I really did.
Because when someone hurts you, it can feel like letting go means what happened “didn’t matter.” Like releasing the anger means you’re letting them off the hook. Like you’re saying, That was okay.
But it wasn’t okay.
And that’s what makes anger so sticky - because it often begins as a valid signal: Something crossed a line. Something felt unfair. Something hurt.
The signal isn’t the problem. The storing of it is.
Over time, I watched what that anger did. Not to the other person… but to the one holding it.
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Their shoulders stayed tense.
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Their mood had a shorter fuse.
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Their patience got thinner.
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Their nervous system stayed on alert.
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Their joy felt “far,” like it had to fight for space.
And one day they said something that stopped me in my tracks:
“I don’t even think about them anymore…
but my body still reacts like it’s happening.”
That’s when it clicked. Anger isn’t just an emotion. It’s energy. It’s activation. It’s the body preparing to protect.
And if we don’t discharge that energy - if we don’t process it, move it, soothe it, reframe it - it doesn’t simply disappear. It settles in.
It turns into tension. Resentment. Irritability. Exhaustion.
Sometimes it even shows up as headaches, stomach issues, or that “wired but tired” feeling.
Anger, unprocessed, keeps the nervous system living in the past.
“Just for today” is the doorway
This is why the Reiki principle is so wise:
Just for today – I will not anger.
It doesn’t say, “I will never feel anger again.”
It doesn’t shame you for having it.
It doesn’t ask you to become a saint.
It simply offers a 24-hour practice.
Because “forever” feels impossible when you’re triggered.
But “just for today” feels doable.
It’s like saying: I can choose one day of peace.
I can choose one day of softness.
I can choose one day where I don’t let anger drive the car.
And that’s where the shift begins.
The part most people miss: “not anger” doesn’t mean “no boundaries”
Let’s be clear: “I will not anger” does not mean:
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You tolerate disrespect.
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You stay quiet when something needs to be addressed.
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You swallow your truth.
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You pretend you’re not hurt.
It means something much more powerful:
You refuse to let anger become your home.
You can still have boundaries - strong ones.
You can still say “no.”
You can still speak up.
You can still hold people accountable.
But you do it from center, not from combustion.
Anger tends to narrow us.
Peace expands us.
And expansion is where discernment lives.
A simple practice for the moment you feel anger rise
Try this the next time you feel anger in your body - especially if it’s sudden or intense.
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Name it without feeding it.
Say quietly: “This is anger.”
Not “I am angry” (which fuses you to it), but “This is anger” (which creates space). -
Find where it lives in your body.
Jaw? Chest? Belly? Throat? Hands?
Just notice. No fixing yet. -
Breathe low and slow - three times.
Inhale through the nose.
Exhale longer than the inhale.
Tell your body: “We are safe right now.” -
Ask one question:
“What is this anger protecting?”
Often the answer is: a hurt, a fear, a boundary, a longing, a grief. -
Choose your “just for today” response.
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Just for today, I will pause before I speak.
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Just for today, I will not re-live this story all day.
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Just for today, I will discharge this energy with a walk, a shake-out, or a journal page.
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Just for today, I will choose peace - not because they deserve it, but because I do.
That last one is the heart of it. It's worth repeating:
Just for today, I will choose peace - not because they deserve it, but because I do.
Letting go of anger isn’t a gift to the other person.
It’s a gift to your nervous system.
Your health. Your sleep. Your clarity. Your future.
A reframe that changes everything
Here’s one of the most liberating truths I’ve learned:
You can acknowledge what happened without continuing to carry it.
You can validate your pain without staying activated.
You can remember the lesson without re-opening the wound every time you think of it.
And sometimes, the most courageous act is this:
I’m not doing this to be “nice.”
I’m doing this to be free.
Because anger doesn’t punish the person who hurt you.
It punishes the one who holds it.
So today - just for today - practice the release.
Not perfection.
Not denial.
Not spiritual bypassing.
Just a choice:
I choose calm first.
Then I move forward intentionally.
If this principle speaks to you, sit with it this week. Write about it. Practice it for 24 hours at a time. And if you want support processing what your body is still holding, that’s exactly the work I love to do - gentle, grounded, nervous-system-friendly.
Just for today… choose peace.
You are allowed.
Be well,
Mary-Anne








