The other day, I was ambushed by a pack of wild dogs in Urabamba, the local town where I buy my groceries.
The day began like any other.
I woke up.
Brushed my teeth.
Made a steaming hot mug of cacao (LOVE that stuff 🤤).
Worked.
Choked and got choked (Brazilian Ju Jitsu).
Lifted weights.
Ate.
Showered.
Painted my nails and brushed my hair 💅
AND THEN…
I jumped on my Boxer motorbike, revved the engine and raced in to Urabamba.
Time to hunt some juicy groceries!
Little did I know what was in store for me.
The drive was great.
Soaring mountains in every direction.
Waterfalls.
A glacier or two.
Then came Urabamba, a small town of 5,000 people.
I turned right at the gas station as usual.
Drove up the main street.
Left at the side-road towards the market.
So far, so good.
I drove down the side road without a care in the world.
Wind in my hair, singing “Feelin’ Good” by Nina Simone:
Birds flying high
You know how I feel
Sun in the sky
You know how I feel
Breeze driftin’ on by
You know how I feel
It’s a new dawn
It’s a new day
It’s a new life
For me
And I’m feeling good
I’m feeling good
That’s when it happened.
They came out of nowhere.
One moment, I’m feelin’ good.
The next?
One of them has my ankle in its jaws.
Another froths at the mouth and bares its razor sharp teeth as it sprints after me down the narrow cobbled-stone Peruvian street.
Uh oh 🫣
I can’t slow down because then I’ll be dead meat…
…but I’m a hair away from crashing as it is so I can’t speed up either.
NOT good.
Not good at all.
😩
But while it was a bad day for my ankle, the experience gave me a fantastic example of the mammalian nervous system to use in The Daily Rage.
Here’s how:
When animals get angry, they don’t hold it in.
They EXPRESS the fuck out of it.
They growl, bare their teeth and narrow their eyes to focus on the threat (or the prey).
Unlike humans (who are ALSO mammals), they don’t feel guilty for feeling what they feel and they don’t make excuses for it.
They ARE who they are:
Themselves.
But what do humans do?
We feel guilty for saying no.
Ashamed of our anger.
And there is absolutely NO way we will growl or bare our teeth when we get angry.
In other words…
We are NOT ourselves, especially when it comes to anger.
We are who we think people want us to be.
Why?
Because it’s not safe to be ourselves (or so we think).
But here’s the thing:
Anger works the same way in us as it works in animals.
It NEEDS to express itself.
Not just in thoughts or even in words.
In PHYSICAL actions.
Yes, I am literally talking about growling and snarling and narrowing your eyes.
This is one of the exercises inside Rageheart.
You unblock your fight instinct. Your healthy aggression. You get in touch with your anger and you learn how to use it properly.
That might sound like a bunch of bullshit and totally ridiculous (I mean, REALLY JOHN, you want me to growl like a dog?), let me tell you that it’s based on the science of the nervous system.
Here’s the deal:
If you’re not connected to your anger in a HEALTHY way, you’ll have trouble confronting people, trouble standing up for yourself and trouble going after what you want in life.
But make the connection and you UNLEASH THE BEAST.
You stop putting up with bullshit in all its forms. You start confronting people and tell them what you REALLY think (in a healthy way). You finally have the aggression and energy you need to create the life of your dreams and do whatever it is that you want to do (instead of what other people want you to do).
That’s why I’m in Peru, living the life of my dreams, instead of hanging out in Australia, working a job or running a business I don’t like.
It’s why I keep talking about the beast.
The beast is inside you… you just gotta wake it the fuck up.
That’s Rageheart in a nutshell.
Rageheart is the name.
Unleashing the beast is the game.
If you want that, click the link below and sign up to Rageheart before the 3 remaining spots are gone (doors close Sunday night at 11:59pm Eastern):
Flip that #beastmode switch… you know you want to.
John Wood
P.S.Obviously, I got away from the dogs or I wouldn’t be writing today’s Daily Rage BUT…
…I do have a scar on my leg to prove it happened.
And you know what they say?
Chicks dig scars.