Some years ago, a friend and I walked into a small coffee shop. A man was offering free palm readings, and always intrigued by things beyond the five senses, I sat down and presented my hand with high expectations. After a pause the reader gently said, you are very angry. Not exactly what I had in mind. Surely he had to see Id be a successful performing artist so naturally, he had to be confusing the lines in my hand with someone elses. What could I, the Queen of Effervescence possibly be angry about? Despite my protests he insisted, and my supposed anger was all he talked about for the brief session.

Fast-forward a few years; Im artfully navigating the Seas of Life. Things were cool-I was healthy, the bills were getting paid, and the love life was stellar. No major complaints though I couldnt deny the existence of a quiet undertow of feeling off kilter, a sense of something being wrong without tangible evidence. So I did what a lot of us do, put it aside and focused on the day-to-day operations of my life. But one July 4th I was forced to take a swim in the undertow and come clean.

The city was in the throes of a heat wave and my honey had just left town so I had the place to myself. He was barely gone a day before I was visited by my ultimate phobia. A waterbug. Now, waterbugs are to me what mice, snakes, and spiders are to other people. They cause me to-freak-out! Since my protector was gone I had to slay the monster myself and I wound up screaming and crying like a willful toddler in the terrible two stage. Just pitiful.

Numb, the next day I faced myself. Why had I lost it like that? Yes, I do abhor waterbugs but gees I had carried on! Something was consuming my soul and needed tending to. But what?

As I sat quietly a voice responded, you are full of rage. Ive tried to tell you in many ways but you would not listen. And in that moment, I knew Truth. I was full of pure unfiltered, uranium rage. I was more than frustrated, more than angry; I was a fire-breathing behemoth behind my innocent looking face.

Then Ms. Wise-in-Hymer speaks up, loudly. Okay, so we admit were enraged, but at what pray tell? For a minute Im stumped. I have absolutely no clue. Now really, I was in no mood to go deep sea-soul searching. Like most of us, Ive had my servings of rough and tough times, with one time in particular when it looked like I, the patient wasnt gonna make it.

A vast amount of inner work got me through that excruciating phase. And now here I was after all that doggone work with yet more to do! I knew it was beyond the obvious, which was the lack of a relationship with my father, but I couldnt imagine what else it could beno, its NOT POSSIBLE! I gotta be kiddin me! How could I be mad at my mother, a woman who had been dead for over thirty years?! My rational mind screamed, this is preposterous of course youre mad at your dad! Look at all the stuff he did to you and then had the nerve, the gall to shun you! But I knew it was integral to the evolution of my being to deny it no longer. I was ticked off because mommy died on me.

All that I endured in my childhood was a direct result of her passing. The step-mom from hell, a tyrannical dad who I think just snapped due to guilt and the sudden loss; loving relatives cast aside and rendered strangers. My entire world was turned upside down and because things moved so fast and furious, I didnt have the time to mourn my loss. I followed the example of the adults in my life and moved on.

But I had only postponed the inevitable, the How Do I Feel about this life-altering event' When I finally came to grips with all of this I felt like I had shed a hundred pounds. I am the person I am because of the sum total of my experiences and of that Im proud. I am thankful for the time I had my mom. The things she taught me in her short time on earth stay in my heart and mind.

Coming to terms with my anger created the freedom to rejoice in being a living product of her. And everyday I look in the mirror I see her, and a happier me.