Chapter2 The Faces of Anger 24

The Faces of Anger

THE NEXT MORNING I was awake early. Chris had already left.

I rolled around restlessly trying to fall back asleep but sleep alluded me. I lay there wondering if I might have had another dream with the blue angel and the little girl. Somehow, I felt I had, but as I searched my memory banks there was no dream there. I had a certain feeling though. It was the same buoyant feeling I had discovered yesterday when I was in the flow and my energy was so high. It was a wonderful feeling. Over the course of the next year, I would begin to recognize that feeling and know it was time to pull out my journal or sit down at my computer and write. I thought about what Chris had said last night. “It’s almost like you have been given an assignment by God or something to write the how to manual of emotional healing.”

As I lay there, I looked at the clock. I still had almost two hours before I had to start getting ready. I yawned and stretched as I stood and headed toward the bathroom. Grabbing my toothbrush, I glanced in the mirror. For some reason, I really started to study my face. My eyes looked different to me. I looked different. I actually liked what I was seeing. The usual routine was to think “ugh,” and glance away as quickly as possible. This